Title: Goodbye Kiss
Disclaimer: Not mine!
Warnings: Slash, grief.
Spoilers: The usual.
Summary: They had what they called a 'goodbye kiss'.
They had what they called a 'goodbye kiss'. It was a kiss that they shared whenever they were about to plunge into a danger which could very easily get them killed, and it soon became a competition to see who could get the kiss in first.
John started it. They'd had one of those tentative conversations the night before, the ones that were loaded with tension and left both parties feeling like something important had just happened underneath all that arguing about heads in the fridge and lack of milk and texts that a certain someone forgot to send someone else confirming they were still alive. John was a man of action; to be honest, he had been waiting all day for an excuse, and he took it before they leapt down a lift shaft after the criminal - he grabbed two handfuls of Sherlock's coat, dragged him to a halt, and kissed him. It was a clumsy kiss between two pairs of chapped lips, but it was hot and entirely unexpected and right.
John had broken the kiss off while Sherlock was still wheeling his hands around in utter confusion, had said, "Just in case," and jumped down the lift shaft.
Sherlock should have followed right behind. Instead, he had taken the moment, just one second, to close his eyes and wait for the last of the warmth of John's lips to leave his own and relish the perfection of what had just happened.
They both lived that night - even the criminal, who only suffered a broken ankle - but there were other nights.
At first, John was in the lead, but it didn't take Sherlock long to cotton on and then take full advantage of his quicker thought processes to get ahead. Most of the time he was kissing John whilst John was still in the 'oh, this might be more dangerous than I realised' zone. At one point, they added another column to the tally chart, because there were times when they would realise trouble together and kiss each other simultaneously, and arguing about who did what first really wasn't worth it.
Sometimes the kisses were extremely brief, such as the lift shaft one. Other times, when they were waiting for something, such as the flames of a burning stick to scorch through the ropes tying them both, the kisses were more leisurely. They were always so intense that it was a wonder either of them could keep their heads afterwards.
Because, you see, they always kissed like they were going to die. Even if Sherlock was already plotting ahead and making plans to keep them alive, he put everything he had into the kiss. Just in case, as John had said.
John had always thought their real goodbye kiss would be hot and intense, and he hoped it would be a long one. In actuality, it never happened at all. They had parted ways, Sherlock going to the Falls, John going to a medical emergency, and it had never crossed his mind that this would be the real end.
It was the reason he'd decided Sherlock wasn't dead at all. Because they hadn't had their goodbye kiss. How could Sherlock be dead if John hadn't kissed him goodbye?
It was inconceivable.
All he had to do was wait for it.
(Just a little fic, I know...if I get interest, I may further the idea to a bigger story!)