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A Bit Better	By : VulpineBeesKnees Category: S through Z > Sherlock (BBC) > Sherlock (BBC) Views: 3330 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
The next few days carried on in about the same way and Sherlock managed to find a reason each day that John wouldn’t be able to make it into the clinic. They’d spent their days working on cold cases John was sure would have normally been dismissed as boring, and making up experiments that required an extra pair of hands. This wasn’t really the problem though, John didn’t mind staying home to help Sherlock, that’s why he’d only been volunteering at the clinic. The real issue was the fact that the detective was constantly touching him.
Sherlock was not a touchy person, he didn’t like being touched unless it was on his terms, and he normally didn’t seek out displays of affection from John unless he was planning to follow through with sex. It had always been like that, all or nothing. This was completely different. They still hadn’t had sex since before their argument about Sherlock’s mother, of course the problem had been laid to rest and they were planning to visit her the following weekend, but something had changed for the detective, and it was driving John insane.
On the second day of this madness John decided to take matters into his own hands. He was making his morning cup of tea when Sherlock blundered in, babbling on about the latest cold case he’d worked out. The detective immediately tucked himself behind John, wrapping an arm around his waist and resting his chin on his shoulder as he continued to explain his discovery. This had become frustratingly normal the past few days.
“Fascinating,” John mumbled, his own pent up frustrations dropped his voice to a deeper tone. He shifted slightly against the detective so they were flush, and wrapped his good arm back a bit, so his fingers were dancing across the skin on his hip, just above the low riding pyjama bottoms. Nothing.
Sherlock continued talking, describing in detail how the three women had been buried in their own vehicles and who committed the crime, and when John had finished making their tea he scooped his up and returned to the sitting room to open a new file. He wasn’t pushing John away, that was the worst part, he was being more affectionate than ever, there just didn’t seem to be any sexual drive there.
By the fourth day John was becoming worried. He had spent most of the last two days purposefully teasing Sherlock, trying to catch his attention in any way with no avail.
It had started small. Bending over directly in front of the detective, or making a small groan of pleasure when he'd sip his tea. When none of that worked, he'd moved on to less subtle things like eating phallic foods almost sinfully in front of the curly headed man. But Sherlock stayed ridiculously oblivious, even when he rocked his hips against him in bed. The taller man had just taken it as a cue for tighter cuddling. It was absolutely maddening.
Perhaps the detective was growing bored of their relationship, although that didn’t explain his constant need for physical contact, which had only become increasingly more insistent.
John had almost given up on trying to seduce Sherlock, and had been sitting on the sofa, bowed over his computer which was perched on his knees, when the detective clambered up behind him to sit on the back of the sofa. A small groan escaped his lips as the sharp knees pressed against his sides, but the detective quickly adjusted so John was nestled between them before leaning forward, his arms draped over the doctors shoulders.
“What are you doing?” Sherlock’s voice held his normal curiosity, as if there was nothing odd about how he’d been acting, but John’s patience was wearing thin.
“I’m updating our blog, trying to find us a case that will get us out of this bloody flat.” His voice was strained, but he set the laptop on the coffee table and leaned back into the detectives touch. His voice softened slightly as laid a hand over Sherlock’s, pressing the cool fingers against his chest. “What in the world are you doing?”
"I'm sitting behind you John." He replied simply. Leaning forward he pressed the side of his head to the top of John's. the past few days had been hell for the detective. The night of their fight, he'd suddenly become very aware of how little they actually touched outside of sex and now he felt like he couldn't get enough of it. Sex had been the furthest thing from his mind as he had been doing some research while John slept at night about the importance of physical touch in a relationship. Like anything else he did, the detective took it to an extreme.
"Does it bother you?"
“No..” John started, feeling the last few days crash over him. “I mean... I’m enjoying the intimacy, but it’s not very you. What’s with the sudden change? I don’t know if this is some sort of payback for the stunt I pulled, but really that was one night, this is getting ridiculous.” He closed his eyes, reveling in the feel of the detectives body against his. He was acutely aware of each place their bodies touched.
The detective was silent for a moment, trying to decipher his meaning, was his increase in physical touch a payback for John attempting to force him to see his mother? No matter the angle he looked at it, it didn't make sense.
"What do you mean? How could my increase in physical contact be considered a punishment if you like it?" He sounded genuinely puzzled, "all the research I've done suggests that a person will leave a relationship if physical contact is not an avid part in everyday living. I'm merely trying to keep you interested so that you will refrain from leaving..." He trailed off not really willing to add in the rest of his thought process.
John normally melted into his embrace, but that night he'd been indifferent. It had been the closest thing to being emotionally hurt Sherlock had ever felt, and it still sent a searing tingle of nausea through his stomach to think about it. He didn't ever want to feel that again, and in a way, he wondered if he had been keeping John at arm's length by pulling him so close that he couldn't hurt him again, even if it hadn't been intentional.
“Oh for the love of-”
John was done. He was utterly finished dancing around Sherlock trying to get his attention. Pulling from the detectives grasp he quickly turned, guiding Sherlock down by the shoulders, a bit rougher than entirely necessary, so he was sitting on the sofa. Before he had a chance to fully work out what was happening John was straddling his lap, one hand laced tightly through his thick curls pulling his head back so they were nose to nose.
Sherlock's eyes were wide as the smaller man practically shoved him down on the couch. There was a slight pain when his head was wrenched back, but it wasn't unpleasant.
“I am very interested,” Pulling softly on Sherlock’s hair John arched his neck back to nip up it softly, beginning at his collar bone, until he reached his earlobe. His lips were brushing Sherlock’s ear as he growled out the next words. “So. For the last time Sherlock, I’m not going anywhere.”
John relaxed the hand in Sherlock’s hair slightly and he pulled back, an utter feral look in his eyes as they met the green in front of him. A devilish grin broke across his face as he brushed his nose against the detectives. “I need you in the bedroom. Now.” It was as if there were different sides to John. There was the doctor, his blogger, and then there was Captain John Watson. It wasn’t often that this side presented itself, but when it did there was no mistaking it.
His shoulders rolled back, making him slightly taller so his body emanated confidence. But of course it was the tone of his voice that really affected Sherlock.
A visible shiver went through Sherlock's body at the sound of that voice. It screamed obey or suffer the consequences. And while every part of the detective's being wanted to submit to this new and exciting side of John, he also liked the danger in the undertones of his voice. His hands had fallen to John's hips when he'd started in on the taller man's pale throat, and now they squeezed tightly.
"If I refuse?" He licked his lower lip almost nervously. Now that he did the math it had been a while since they'd done anything sexual and he'd probably driven John crazy by it. But if this were the result, Sherlock promised to drive him mad more often. Captain John Watson was new in this aspect, and Sherlock could tell he was going to thoroughly enjoy himself no matter what happened.
John chuckled darkly as his free hand skirted down the detectives front, slipping his hand under the hem of his shirt to tease along the waistline of his trousers. Leaning forward a bit he spoke again, his voice was lower and even more commanding.
“Not an option.”
He caught Sherlock’s lips before he could voice a rebuttal, a deep greedy kiss fueled by his own desire, before pulling away and moving toward the bedroom without a second look back. Once in the bedroom, John had half a moment of panic. All of their previous sexual encounters had been initiated by Sherlock, not because John wasn't interested, but because that was part of how their relationship worked. Up until this point John had been too cautious to push for anything, rather taken whenever the opportunity presented itself. His fears were quickly brushed away as he heard bare feet making their way towards the bedroom.
Sherlock had been taken utterly by surprise when John had been so forceful, but by the time he made it to the bedroom, he was rock hard and his body was begging for more than the greedy kiss John had taken.
His hands were down to his side as he entered the room, and he stopped when he found John still standing and not on the bed like he had expected. Although he'd done power play with one or two of his previous sexual partners, this was completely different, and he knew John was getting off on commanding him as much as he was at being told what to do. Having complete control over his mind at all times was a necessity, but having some of that control forcefully taken away from him was exciting him beyond compare.
He raised an eyebrow slightly as he leaned against the door jamb, waiting for instruction.
When the footfalls stopped in the doorway John’s eyes slowly ran up the detective, taking in his appearance. It took a moment for him to realize Sherlock was waiting, and the realization sent excited thrill through his body. Squaring his shoulders John turned cocking his head to the side as he licked his bottom lip.
“Inside. Close the door.” In comparison, most of John’s experiences with other partners had been rather vanilla. It wasn’t news that he was enjoying their game, his casual relationships simply hadn’t allowed for him to explore it in the past. He could feel his arousal quickly growing at the thought of Sherlock relinquishing himself like this.
Sherlock stepped inside and closed the door quietly behind him. Once inside, he stood, his feet slightly spread, and fingertips pressed together in front of him. He could see how much this was exciting John and it seemed to spur Sherlock on as well.
John crossed the small space between them in a few steps so he was directly in front of the other man. He knew Sherlock was waiting for the next command, but he waited a moment, letting the tension, and question of what he’d say next, build between them.
“Clothes,” He tugged on the pocket of Sherlock’s jeans as if to emphasize his displeasure with them, John could only manage short statements, he felt almost dizzy from the high of endorphins. “Off.” And when he saw Sherlock slowly complying, one arduous button at a time, John quickly rid himself of his own clothing as he moved to stand behind him.
It wasn't often that so few words could turn him on so completely, but he supposed with John anything and everything was possible. When his fingers slipped the last button, he let the shirt slide down his arms, resting in the crook of his elbows as long fingers began working on his belt and pants. He let the jeans fall off his thin hips once the fastenings we're opened to reveal the fact that he hadn't worn pants that day. He stepped out of them and let the shirt fall off his arms before crossing them and sinking back into a hip. He smirked lightly at John as if to say challenge accepted, what next?
He noticed the smaller man had quickly divested himself of his own clothing, and letting his eyes run up John's body he wondered which of them was harder from the experience.
John hadn’t been sure what his next moves would be, but then Sherlock flashed that smart smirk and something else took over. It surprised him that this was the first time he’d been in control of what they were doing, but he was planning on taking advantage of it. Before the evening was out he’d have the bastard gagging for it.
With both of them stark naked John felt considerably calmer. His eyes darted towards the bed as he spoke, mirroring the detectives challenge, “Lie down.”
Sherlock's lips curled upwards in a grin. They both had a penchant for danger and he knew several things about the man before him than would make his next statement very fun. His eyes traveled up and down the John’s frame once more before his eyes traveled to the bed. He sniffed at it haughtily before turning back to John. His eyes hard and defiant.
"Make me." He said.
John was only slightly surprised by the detectives defiance, and even more surprised by his own quick reaction. “With pleasure,” he growled, catching Sherlocks wrists and pinning them in the small of his back with one hand. The bed was no longer in the forefront of his mind as he pushed Sherlock back, pinning him against the closed door.
Sherlock let out a small noise of surprise. He’d expected to be thrown down on the bed, but the older man had reacted so swiftly, he hadn’t been able to preemptively deduce his actions. He twisted his hands in the small of his back, testing how tight the man’s grip was, and was surprised by what he found. He couldn’t move much at all. He could probably break John’s grip if he really tried, but he would have to put forth a lot of effort. Looking down, he watched the other in awe of the power he somehow forgotten John had.
Keeping the thin wrists caught in his hand John began greedily working his way down the Sherlock’s chest. Starting just below his collarbone he began nipping hard enough at the pale skin that he knew there would be a lovely mark before they were through. He let his tongue trace across the mark before he moved down breathing hotly against one nipple and then the other.
His free hand traveled lower, careful to not do more than brush his member as he found the pronounced hip. His lips found a new, unmarred area below the opposite collarbone to leave his mark as his fingers traced the curve of Sherlock’s hip, following the crease at his groin till his nails were dancing across the inside of his thigh. He could feel heat radiating off of Sherlock as he beamed down at his work on the pale chest.
Sherlock knew that John was feeling a little apprehension. This was new for them, probably totally new for John, and Sherlock wanted to ease his way into it. However, he didn’t have to try very hard, as his body was responding quite well to the lack of control and the hungry possessive touches were driving him crazy.
“John...” he said breathlessly as the nails on his inner thigh made his cock twitch in anticipation. The desire to reach out and touch the doctor was overwhelming, but as he reflexively went to reach for him, his hands met the other man’s strong grasp, and he let out a low desperate moan.
John's lips pulled into a small smile, loosening his grip slightly. He spoke in between light kisses along the detectives neck, tracing his path from earlier, up to his ear.
"Ready to listen now?" The words fell from his lips easily, as if he knew what they were doing. His hand traveled back up gripping Sherlocks hip tightly as he pressed up against him, rolling his hips slightly. John buried his face against the detectives neck at the motion, muffling the moan it produced.
Sherlock couldn’t speak. That tantalizing hip roll had stolen the ability. He felt and heard the evidence of John’s arousal, and pleasure tingled through him where their bodies touched. He wanted more, so much more, and at the moment the only way he would get it was by acquiescing.
He nodded, his hips canting back against John’s in an effort to derive more of that delicious friction from the smaller man’s body. His breath was coming hard and heavy in the blonde’s ear and his fingers gripped the other’s hand and his own forearms just to give them something to do to keep him from going totally insane by the mad teasing John was giving him.
John pressed into Sherlock once more, biting back the moan that followed, before relinquishing his hold on him. Taking a step back, attempting to even his breathing, he gave Sherlock the same challenging look from earlier as he gestured to the bed.
"Lie on your back with your feet spread apart." John had found his voice again, instincts seeming to take over where any hesitance had once been. He looked Sherlock over carefully, noting every detail.
His brows were knit together when John pulled away, and he let out a soft noise when cool air rushed over his body. However when the command was given, he didn’t hesitate this time. Laying down longways on the bed so that his feet wouldn’t hang over the edge, he let his hands rest on the mattress beside him, and spread his legs.
The position made his shaft jut out and curve back towards his stomach, tapping the tight muscles with the throb of his heartbeat. He was flushed starting from the hard member, and traveled up his chest in a trail up the center where it exploded over his neck and face. His eyes were cloudy as he looked up at the doctor. In that moment he wanted no more than to see a look of satisfaction cross John’s face. His brows rose as if to ask.
Good enough?
As John’s eyes swept up the flush skin, a pleasurable hum escaped his lips. He crept towards the bed slowly, keeping their gaze locked as he climbed over Sherlock, John’s body hovering just above the his. John’s hands Doug into the mattress on either side of is shoulders as he dipped down, placing a chaste kiss against his lips before slipping down the others body, nestling between his legs.
Part of Sherlock always running the show, meant the idea of switching roles during sex had never crossed their mind. Well, it hadn’t crossed Sherlocks at least. John had thought about it many times. He’d been curious. Not many of his previous lovers had had much interest in giving head, but Sherlock.. Sherlock seemed to lose himself in giving John pleasure.
The commanding presence dropped as he studied the throbbing member curiously. His hands splayed out across Sherlock’s thin hips, his thumbs brushing against the trimmed hairs. For someone who considers his body transport... John smiled wryly at the thought.
Sherlock swallowed thickly as John’s body moved down his and settled between his legs. He’d never really thought about John doing this to him before. He grit his teeth and let his head push back into the pillows, fighting not to move his hands. He knew John hadn’t told him not to touch him, but he had the distinct feeling if he did there would be consequences.
Those inquisitive fingers made the muscles in his legs twitch as he fought his body to keep from thrusting up against the lightest brush. The situation was definitely having an immense effect on him, and Sherlock wasn’t sure if he loved or hated the tension that was growing just from having John look at him.
John was moving painfully slow, testing his own boundaries more than his partners. He breathed heavily against Sherlock, his own breath hitching at the effect he was having on Sherlock.
One hand gripped the base of his member lightly, the head bobbing precariously close to his lips. His breath shook slightly, a mixture of apprehension and excitement whirling through him as his eyes flitted up the pale body. He couldn’t help but love having Sherlock like this, his entire body on edge, waiting for John to do something.
Licking his lips, and taking a deep breath, John leaned forward, taking Sherlock in slowly. He’d expected it to be different. More difficult, or uncomfortable, but he was surprised to find it wasn’t, not enough to stop anyways. John’s tongue explored the underside of the detectives shaft as he took in as much as he could without feeling overwhelmed.
The first feeling of warmth around the head of his throbbing member had been slight shock to Sherlock. His eyes had been closed and John had been teasing him for so long, that he half expected him to pull back and wag a finger at him. But as the inquisitive tongue moved around his shaft, he couldn’t help a long low moan that poured from his mouth, his fingers twisting in the duvet beneath him.
There was something sinful about such a curious mouth doing something so naughty as giving Sherlock a blowjob, and yet he couldn’t help but think that John’s mouth had been made for this. His legs pulled back, cradling John’s head with his thighs as he bent his knees. If he couldn’t grab onto the short locks and thrust up into his warm mouth, touching him any way possible was the next best thing.
The new pressure against the side of his head encouraged John to keep moving. He pulled up, slowly, sliding his tongue along until just the head remained in his mouth. John was aware that his slow movements were probably driving Sherlock absolutely insane, but he was busy carefully cataloguing the detectives reactions, learning what touch sent him reeling.
Exploring the silky head he could taste the small amount of precum that had built up there, it was salty but not entirely terrible. Taking Sherlock back in John sucked softly, granting him a movement from the detective that assured him in his efforts. Picking up the pace John continued experimenting, changing the pressure, flicking his tongue around the head.
The experimental movements and touches were getting to be too much. Just the sight of John's head buried between his legs was enough to get him close, and he knew he had to stop this before his orgasm crept up on him. His thighs pressed tighter against the doctor's face as he leaned up on his elbows.
"If you keep on like that I won't be very useful to you...." He was breathless as he spoke, still wary to reach out and touch the smaller man. Just then a particular roll of the blonde's tongue hit the sensitive area just beneath the glans and he found a husky moan falling from his lips as his head fell back, hair tickling his neck as his body shivered with pleasure.
"John... Please." The last word was almost a whisper.
John pulled away slowly, letting the heavy member fall from his lips where it bobbed against the taut stomach. He was mesmerized for a moment, the sight of Sherlock writhing beneath him was almost too much. John moved up his body slowly, so he was straddling Sherlock’s hips, the detectives member pressing against him.
Reaching to the bedside table he fished a small bottle from the drawer. As he popped it open he spoke, his tone demanded to be obeyed, “You’ve done very good at keeping your hands to yourself.” His voice was like a purr. Coating his fingers in the lube he reached behind them, stroking Sherlock slowly a few times before hastily preparing himself. “I’m going to ride you Sherlock, but if you move your hands from those sheets or if you start to cum without permission I will stop.”
The words dripped with promise as he carefully positioned himself over Sherlock. The pressure of the slick member against him sent a small shiver up Johns spine. He moved slowly, the lack of real preparation made it burn slightly, but it quickly faded into pleasure as he took all of Sherlock’s length. A soft groan ripped through him as his muscles relaxed enough to begin moving.
John leaned forward to press his hands into the mattress, his own member brushing against Sherlock’s stomach with his thrusts. Sherlock let out a deep groan, and had to twist his fingers in the duvet to keep them from reaching for him.
However, when John began to really move, his hips bucked up into him, and his hands shot to John’s hips, pulling him down to grind their hips together.
The reaction was instant. Even though the lack of contact pulled a deep moan from John, he pulled off of Sherlock, grabbing his wrists and pinning them back against the mattress. “What did I say?” His breath was heavy and rapid, he hadn’t fully expected to be tested. He really hadn’t expected the defiance to make his heart beat out of his chest in excitement.
Sherlock let out a sound that was dangerously close to a whimper, and tried to tame the need to grab the doctor’s hips and slam him back down on his cock by force. “You... just.. “ he was breathless, “I couldn’t help it.” he finished lamely, eyes taking on the look John had once deemed his puppy dog face. He made a point to wrap his hands in the blankets tighter so it would be harder for him to get them free, trying to show John he was willing to try again.
Relaxing his hold on Sherlock’s wrists he nudged his face to the side, dragging his lips along the detectives jaw line before whispering into his skin. “Good. When I tell you to come you can touch me. You just have to control yourself till then.”
He didn’t have to move as slowly as before, lining himself up with Sherlock he pressed down, moaning as he felt himself being filled again. It didn’t take long to find an angle that left them both gasping and moaning into each other.
Sherlock was hard pressed to keep his hands to himself. Normally he had free reign to mold John’s body to pleasure it and himself, but there was something glorious about his body being used purely for John’s pleasure at the moment that was driving him insane. As John moved he became increasingly vocal, also unusual for him.
The only thing he could do was thrust up against the doctor slightly, hoping for another squeeze of his muscles or particularly deep thrust. His head was thrown back and to the side, teeth biting on the cloth balled up in his fist, his back arched beautifully off the bed as he let go and let himself feel John riding him. With each movement he was getting closer to the edge until he heard himself crying out.
“John... I’m... “he couldn’t form coherent words, but he was sure the doctor would catch his meaning as his eyes screwed up in pleasure, his stomach muscles clamping down trying to stave off the orgasm that was rapidly baring down on him.
John wasn’t far behind, pleasure quickly pooling in his abdomen, and the detectives desperate cries were just enough to push him over the edge. Letting out a deep moan his head dropped, words spilling from his lips frantically, “Ye-yes Sherlock. Come on. Now.”
He was practically growling as he brought their bodies together, pinning his own member between their sweat slicked bodies. Any amount of control John had held up until now quickly dissipated as his thrusts became quick and erratic. His entire body began tensing as he buried his face against the others neck.
“Now.”
It was supposed to be a command, but the desperation in John’s voice made it sound as if he was the one begging for release.
It had been hard to keep himself together when John started to spasm around him, but when that voice commanded him, sounding a little desperate he lost it. His body arched up hard against the bed, his hands flashing out to grip at the smaller man’s back to pull him down tighter, as the doctor spilled out between them. A cry wrenched from his lips as he came harder than he ever remembered.
For one long moment, it felt like time stood still, his body taught as all his muscles clenched. Then the world came rushing back, and they collapsed into a quivering heap of detective and doctor. When Sherlock regained the ability, his hands rubbed in slow calming circles and he kissed the older man just above his ear.
“You John Watson, are an extremely interesting man.”
John chuckled softly against Sherlock’s neck, too spent to pull away. “Surprised myself a bit honestly. Was it..” The question hung in the air. In the moment everything had made sense, it had been instinctual, and now as they lay wrapped in each other, an absolute hot mess, he was able to reflect on the entire encounter.
He had never thought himself to be interested in anything particularly kinky, but he supposed it made sense with Sherlock. He became bored with just about everything in time, and frankly if this sort of power play kept him interested John didn’t mind in the least. The fact that this had began as an argument had completely left his mind.
“Was that all alright?” He said softly, finally deciding how to word the question.
“John that was quite a bit more than alright.” he kissed the doctor’s head and tightened his arms around him. “I may be tempted to rile you up more often if this is the result I’ll get.” He chuckled breathlessly, and pulled John into his side, and reached down grabbing a blanket that was folded at the foot of the bed and pulled it over them. He’d needed to wash his bedding soon anyway.
John considered arguing with that point, he did not want the detective purposefully working him up, but he'd be lying if he tried to say he didn't want it to happen again. He settled for a noncommittal growl as he pressed a kiss to the bruised collarbone.
Heaving a deep, bone rattling sigh, Sherlock pulled the man close up against him, and nuzzled into his hair. “So we go visit Mummy this weekend for her birthday.” he said softly, “I’m sure you’ll be glad to hear that Mycroft is bringing Lestrade, so you won’t be the only one there. However, Mummy does love a good party, so you’ll need a tuxedo. Her events are always black tie. She’s going for some sort of ball this year. ’ His fingers lazily drew on John’s shoulder as he spoke.
"Thank god. I'd hate to be cooped up with you and your brother for too long. Do try not to goad him too much." He relaxed against the detectives hands, his voice was thick and drowsy. Closing his eyes he went on without waiting for a response. There was no real chance at that sibling rivalry dying.
"So what does your mum know about us? I mean.. Flatmates? Friends?" It wasn't as if they were particularly secret about their relationship, if people didn't know it was only because the couple didn't act much different in public than the had before. Their few friends knew, but nothing official had actually been established, just an unspoken understanding that they belonged to each other and no one else.
Sherlock hummed in a soft chuckle, “Considering I never really had friends growing up, and you’re the first person I’ll have ever brought to meet her, I’m sure she’ll know there’s something different about you.” He looped one leg through John’s feeling rather possessive of his blogger at the moment.
“However I’m sure of several other things that will point her in the right direction. One, Mycroft has no doubt told her about his relationship with Lestrade and he is probably bringing him to meet mummy for the first time this weekend. Two Mummy is very bright comparatively, I’m sure that when she meets you, she’ll sense the intrigue and attraction between us fairly quickly if not immediately. She has a way of seeing straight through you, albeit in a different way than I do. and Third, I’m fairly sure Mycroft has told her we’re sleeping together. I’m told he keeps her quite up to date on all my affairs since I see her so little.”
“That’s good.” he mumbled softly as he pressed closer to Sherlock, far too spent and exhausted to formulate a real response.
Sherlock knew his mother would take the news just fine and had probably been waiting eagerly to properly meet John since they’d gotten together, although he hadn’t intended it to be so soon. He still wasn’t sure of the finality of their relationship, and if something happened to them after she’d met John, he wasn’t sure she’d ever forgive him.
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