Chapter Text
Sherlock could feel his skin on fire, his every nerve burning as callused hands caressed him. Warm lips pressed against his own, and the genius couldn’t help but whimper at the gentle nibble tugging at his bottom lip.
He desperately wanted to touch back, but the chains around his wrists held him tight. He whined in frustration.
The sound of John’s chuckle rang in Sherlock’s ears, “Impatient, aren’t you?”
Sherlock didn’t know how to respond, what he could possibly say to get John to sate the fire burning within him.
He could feel John’s hand traveling down his body, closer towards—
A sharp blast of cold air forced Sherlock’s eyes to open, sitting up with a jolt. It only took a half second for him to realized that he was in his own bed and that the vivid and torrid experience he had just experience had been just a dream, a variation of his memory of losing his virginity.
With a groan, Sherlock rubbed his eyes. John was invading nearly all his sleeping thoughts, and it was growing increasing frustrating because of John’s reluctance to engage in intercourse with Sherlock. Sherlock would have to think of a new way to convince John of the logical next step of their relationship.
Sherlock stood up, making his way out of his bedroom and toward John’s. Unfortunately, Sherlock had failed to convince John of how logical it would be for him to move into Sherlock's room and allow the second room to become a lab. Honestly, the man could be so stubborn…
For some strange reason that Sherlock had yet to discover, watching John sleep seemed so sooth his overactive mind enough to allow him to sleep (even if he would claim he did not need to sleep). John was a very still sleeper, when he wasn’t in the throes of a nightmare of course. Even in his sleep, John was a soldier: laying on his back, hands folded across his stomach, head perfectly positioned in the center of the pillow, breathing at a perfectly even count— in for three seconds, out for three seconds.
In…
Out…
In…
Out…
In…
“Sherlock?”
The sudden sound startled Sherlock slightly; he hadn’t expected John to wake up and catch him watching. He didn’t know what to say, what could he say?
John sat up in bed, “Are you alright?”
Sherlock shrugged, still feeling sheepish about being caught (honestly, the longer he spent with John, the more emotions he was feeling).
After a few moments of silence, John sighed, “Do you want to join me?” he asked, moving over in the bed.
Sherlock didn’t remember answering, or even moving to the bed, but the next thing he knew, he was in John’s bed, lying beside his blogger. He felt John’s arm wrap around him, and the heat of the doctor’s body spread to Sherlock’s in a comforting warmth. As Sherlock rested his head against John’s chest, he could hear the other man’s heartbeat.
And, as John fell back asleep, Sherlock found him counting his friend’s breaths as well as his heartbeat.
In…beat, beat…
Out…beat, beat…
In…beat, beat…
Out…beat, beat…