The Note: Together

John and Sherlock sat on opposite sides of the room, sipping tea that John had made them. It was silent in the flat, no noise. Sherlock glanced at John from his arm chair and noticed that steady hand of his was shaking.

"You alright, John?" Sherlock asked, looking at the solider and sipping his tea.

John sighed and placed his tea back in the saucer. He shook his head. "No... Sherlock I'm not. That note..."

"John..." Sherlock said sadly, placing his tea in it's saucer as well and setting it on the table.

"No, Sherlock, let me finish!!" John slammed the saucer back on the table. "You wrote me  a bloody note and left, leaving me to be kidnapped by Moriarty. You broke up with me, stabbed me in the heart, and I almost got killed! -We- almost got killed! I almost lost you completely! I can't even -look- at you without felling like I'm going to die! Without you I'm..." John stopped yelling and noticed he was on his feet. He stared at the ground. "I'm... I'm nothing, Sherlock..." 

Sherlock just watched John, who slumped into his chair behind him and hid his face. Sherlock stood and put on his coat and scarf. John heard a door shut and looked up, eyes watering, no Sherlock in sight.

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John sat in his room, window open, feeling the cool evening breeze on his wet face. Why did Sherlock have to do this to him? He never crys when his girlfriends end it with him.

But Sherlock isn't like any of the girls he's dated.

He heard rustling in the kitchen of glass wear and his heart dropped.

He was back. 

"John?" Sherlock's voice called. "John!?" Closer to his door. The door knob twisted and Sherlock was standing there in the door frame. "John, come out to the kitchen, I-"

"No." John said whipping his eyes, folding his arms across his chest, then laying down on the bed.

"John..."

"No..."

"Babe..." Sherlock's voice was covered in lust.

"Not you're babe anymore, remember? Besides, I'm not moving."

"Fine, you don't have to!" Sherlock said.

He stormed over to the side of John's bed, and scooped a bewildered (and protesting) John into his arms.

"Sherlock!" John began as Sherlock started towards the hallway.

"Shhhh." Sherlock hushed as they entered the kitchen. "Look."

John looked over to see the candle lit dinner Sherlock had fixed him when he first asked him out. Sherlock set him down feet first and led him over to a seat, pulling it out for him. He took the seat across from John.

"Sherlock... What is all of th-"

"John..." Sherlock took John's hand from across the table. "I'm sorry. I'm honestly truly sorry. I've hurt you and put you in danger, two things I never wanted to do. John, you're my life. I know I'm not good at being a boyfriend. I know I'm still learning. But John, you said it yourself too, without you, I am nothing. Please, John, let me make it up to you. Take me back? Please, John, take me back..."

John sat there speechless. Sherlock's hand squeezed his lightly. A thousand thoughts raced threw John's mind, so much so he actually felt dizzy. What should he say?

"John..?" John snapped back and looked at Sherlock. His eyes were watering. "I've never felt like this... Never had these feelings. It's different, it's weird, it's exciting! It's because of you. Back in the slaughter house, when I heard you sobbing, I couldn't control my anger. Moriarty... I've never been so out of control of my actions, I've never felt like that. Anger, pain, depression, regret. Seeing you like that... Killed me... I never want to see you like that... never want to see you like -this- again. I hurt you, I know... Tell me what I have to do... To get you back..."

"Sherlock..." John squeezed Sherlock's hand in return. "Come."

John stood and, Sherlock following him, hands together, led him to the couch. John turned Sherlock to face him, Sherlock's back to the couch.

"Sherlock..." John whispered as he hugged Sherlock. Before he knew it, Sherlock's back hit the sofa, John on top of him. John's body pinned Sherlock's body against the sofa, him unable to move. John kissed him once, slowly, moving his mouth open and closed to bring Sherlock into a deeper kiss.

Sherlock was in heaven, John on top of him, kissing him, taking control. Sherlock let his tongue slide up and press against John's lips, forcing them open. John moaned in surprise as Sherlock's tongue penetrated his lips, filling his mouth. It tasted like mint. Mint, and tea, with a slight hint of coffee. Fantastic! 

"Yes..." John moaned as he pulled away then hungrily attacked Sherlock's lips again.

"Humm?" Sherlock asked in a moan.

"Yes. I'll take you back." John muttered, twitting his fingers in Sherlock's amazing, soft hair.

Slowly, John started to unbutton Sherlock's tight, purple shirt, the one that hugged his body so perfectly in all the right places. He wanted to see Sherlock, see his perfect abs and body features.

Sherlock stopped him half way down.

"John, what are you doing?" Sherlock asked slowly.

-That's right...- John thought slowly. -Sherlock has never had sex...-