Title: Love looks not with eyes, but with the mind.
Rating: light R
Warnings: MALE x MALE. SLASH. So no flames because I warned you.
Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me. No-beta
"John … John"
John woke up with a start, bolting upright, duvet falling over the side of the bed and automatically reaching for his gun on top of the bedside cabinet, fingers wrapped around his wrist causing John's eyes to snap up to where Sherlock was standing over his bed illuminated by the orange lamps outside indicating that it was still night, and the quiet traffic noise said that it was after 4am, when all the party people have gone home and London seemed to be in a state of quiet before the storm.
"Sherlock, Do you know what time it is? You promised you wouldn't wake me up in the middle of the night" John groaned out, and tried to take his wrist back.
"Sherlock" Eyes became adjusted to the little light and he found himself staring up into Sherlock's blue suddenly dead eyes, his face a mask of stone. Sherlock was leaning over him wrapped up in his robe, one of his hands had moved to holding John's hand, and the other arm clutching at his own waist. His eyes moved down to my hand he was clutching.
Sherlock began rubbing John's hand with his thumb. Instantly his heart began to race. It took John a minute to figure out what was happening and at least another to get over the shock. John didn't immediately respond and Sherlock stopped. They both kind of stilled for a minute,
"John" he said in a small broken voice.
John not understanding what he was doing pulled Sherlock to lie next to him slowly and carefully as if handling a skittish animal ready to run and hide at any hint of trouble. John pulled Sherlock's head onto his chest, pushing one arm under his head and curling the other arm around the clothed back of his flat mate/best-friend before closing his eyes and sighing.
After a short moment John felt a finger begin to slide slowly down his chest and stop at the elastic band on his boxers before working its way back up to the centre of his chest. John knew then what Sherlock wanted and it made him nervous, not because it was a guy but more that it would change his whole relationship with Sherlock.
John sighed and started slowly stroking his fingers lightly down Sherlock's back. At first Sherlock didn't do anything else but stroke his fingers up and down John's chest. At his soft touch John slowly began to stiffen, in response to his slow seduction, Sherlock suddenly slid his hand under the waistband.
John's head cleared enough to say "Sherlock, what are you doing?"
His reply was simply, "Because I could not stop for death, He kindly stopped for me; the carriage held but just ourselves and immortality"
John couldn't say anything else, so lightly kissed the top of Sherlock's head before groaning.
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Looking up into Sherlock's eyes, John couldn't help but moan at the feel of Sherlock's soft body on his own war-torn skin, stimulating his nerve endings to the point of bursting.
"Why?" John asked again, whispering it against Sherlock's lips
"Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation"
And with that, Sherlock covered John's lips with his own, a soft moan vibrating out of Sherlock's throat as John opened up his mouth to his tongue, and Sherlock plundered his mouth searching every nook and cranny with as much precision as the dissection of a human genome. John smoothed his tongue over Sherlock's and pushed up into his mouth tasting tea and a unique taste that was utterly addicting.
John looked down straight into Sherlock's eyes, which were wide and shinning, looking up at him as if he was the most spectacular sight in the world, before whispering up to John,
"The influence of each human being on others in this life is a kind of immortality"
Before he collapsed John moved himself up and collapsed onto his back next to a still panting Sherlock.
John heavily panting, turned on his side before reaching out and touching Sherlock's smooth, sweaty and bony back, poking him when he didn't get his attention
Sherlock turned over on his side to John just as the pale sun was rising up over a fog misted morning in London, it cast a halo around Sherlock's body that didn't match the stormy eyes and tear tracks running down his sculpted cheeks. The birds were slowly waking up to a warm morning and the noise of London nearly drowning out Sherlock's words
"You can fool some of the people all of the time, and all of the people some of the time, but you can not fool all of the people all of the time"
John looked into Sherlock's eyes, and took him into his arms pushing Sherlock's face into his neck and slowly stroking his back, tears wetting his shoulder with a slight keening noise coming from Sherlock.
Looking over at a bird that was perched on the outside windowsill, John whispered into the dark and soft hair of Sherlock
"Shallow understanding from people of good will is more frustrating than absolute misunderstanding from people of ill will"
And then the perfect stillness of the morning allowed John and Sherlock to sleep, entwined together and finally able to rid themselves, if only temporary, their nightmares of that fateful night at the swimming pool.
Kahlil Gibran - Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.
Emily Dickinson - Because I could not stop for death, He kindly stopped for me; the carriage held but just ourselves and immortality.
Abraham Lincoln - You can fool some of the people all of the time, and all of the people some of the time, but you can not fool all of the people all of the time.
John Quincy Adams - The influence of each human being on others in this life is a kind of immortality
Martin Luther King Jr - Shallow understanding from people of good will is more frustrating than absolute misunderstanding from people of ill will. "Letter from Birmingham Jail," April 16, 1963