I do not own BBC's Sherlock, nor anything related to Sherlock in any way. Post Reichenbach Fall. Enjoy!


John saw him

John saw him. He was in the shopping center picking up groceries when he caught sight of the all too familiar man. At first he couldn't believe it. He shook his head, closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose, hoping to concentrate. When he opened his eyes he was still there. He knew it was him. He remembered the coat whipping behind him, the way the collar stood up in a pretentious manner, the way the man stood when deducing everything around him. John saw him, and he ran after him. He didn't know what the curly haired man was doing, but once he started running John ran after. He guessed that he'd always be chasing after Sherlock.

So he ran. He almost got hit by a car twice, ran into four men and three women, and ran down an alleyway that Sherlock had ran down himself. He wanted to call out to him, but he was too far, and when Sherlock was on the job he didn't quit that easily.

He kept running, keeping his eyes on the tall, slender man that was only a block ahead of him. He wished he was faster. He wished he could just find a way to catch Sherlock. He knew wishing had done him no good though.

For a split second John had lost Sherlock in a fit of frustration, then saw the man turning onto a street he knew too well. John hoped this was all a figment of his imagination as he turned down the same street, and ran into the empty apartment.

"John! Who is upstairs making all that ruckus?" John ran past an exasperated Mrs. Hudson, taking the steps two at a time, and arriving in the once shared flat, out of breath and staring at the most beautiful man he'd ever have the chance to lay his eyes on.

"John."

"Sherlock." John released his final breath before bending over, clutching his knees and breathing more heavily than he ever had. He had just ran after a sociopath for more than six minutes, so Sherlock allowed him time to recover.

"How-

"-am I here? I faked it."

"But-

"You saw me jump, yes. But you did not see me land."

"I saw you," John huffed out after finally catching his breath. "I went to your funeral. I mourned for you. I sat here for an entire year, hoping you'd come back. And now you're standing here, explaining but I'm not understanding. How are you here?"

Sherlock explained everything. Who helped him, how he did it, where he had stayed, and what he had been doing. John listened with tentative ears, not quite sure if he wanted to hear his explanation. He was afraid his nightmares would come back if he had listened to the events that unfolded a year ago at St. Bart's Hospital.

"John." John looked up at Sherlock who had stopped pacing. He had insisted on standing rather then sitting.

"Yes, Sherlock?" Sherlock knelt down in front of his friend - his only friend - and touched his shaking hands. John hadn't noticed till now but he was convulsing with sobs. Sherlock pulled his flat mate into a tight hug. John returned the gesture, missing Sherlock more than he could ever know. He didn't know what had come over him, and all he knew is that he needed to know this was real. He needed to know that Sherlock was here, and was here to stay. He'd just wished it wasn't like this, where he was acting a bit less manly than he'd hoped.

The duo had spent far too much time apart, Sherlock knew, because John was still hugging him a few minutes after he stopped crying. Their position had shifted, Sherlock leaning up against the couch holding John as he straddled the taller man and kept his head buried in the crook of his neck. Sherlock could not remember a time when he was this intimate with anyone, and he could not figure out why John and him were doing this now. Of course he had harbored feelings for the shorter man for a while now, so he didn't mind as much. John, however, always insisted he wasn't gay, and he hadn't ever shown much romantic interest in Sherlock, so why was he doing this now?

"John?"

"Yes, Sherlock?"

"Are you alright?"

"No, Sherlock."

"Why?" Sherlock asked, wanting an answer from his friend. He always needed to know the logical explanation of everything, including the feelings of his flat mate.

"You know why."

"I wouldn't be asking if I knew why, John."

"Because you're stupid."

"That's not a very reasonable explanation of the situation at hand John and-

To shut the detective up immediately, John pressed his lips to Sherlock's in a hesitant yet proud kiss. Sherlock had never experienced anything so special and magnificent since the first time he solved a case, and he thought this was way better. When John pulled away a frown appeared on Sherlock's face as John stared at him.

"That was marvelous," Sherlock mentioned, causing John to grin in happiness and to kiss Sherlock on the lips once again, making shivers run down Sherlock's spine. He had dreamed of this, but never dreamed of actually doing it.

John saw Sherlock. He chased after the man who had fallen. He found him again, and he intended to never let him go again, because a year had been enough.

"Sherlock?"

"Yes, John?"

"Tea?"

"Of course."


This is my first Johnlock fanfiction. Yes it's short, but aren't most of them? I just could not get the idea out of my freaking head. Gosh, I haven't written anything in a while... Well, if you're interested in anything else I write check my Wattpad! It's on my profile, along with some other dazzling fanfictions. :D More Johnlock to come! :D