John's heart almost stopped in his chest when Sherlock kissed him, it lasted only a few moments before he pulled away cheeks burning red stammering an apology. "Don't be sorry," was all John said before grabbing Sherlock's face, pulling it to him and kissed him.
For a moment, Sherlock was stunned; he had not expected this to happen. He was not going to let it slip through his fingers asking questions, though. Sherlock reached up to John's face in return, leaning into the kiss. Hid heart pounded with excitement, and he could hardly believe this was happening.
John's heart beat faster as Sherlock leaned into the kiss, John was so happy; he just hoped that this wasn't another dream. He ran his hands through Sherlock's hair enjoying ruffling it up even more then what it was.
Feeling John's fingers running through Sherlock's hair, he hummed softly in approval, but then forced his self to break away. "We cannot do this here," he said softly, peering around. "Someone might see." Officer or not, it would not protect us from the law.
When Sherlock broke away John was saddened until he said, "We cannot do this here. Someone might see." John nodded standing up; he held his hand out to him, "My tent or yours?"
The invitation to one of the tents caused Sherlock's already racing heart to flutter nervously. Still, he did not want this to come to an end. "Yours," Sherlock answered. John's tent had more room. Sherlock stood, starting back into the camp toward his tent.
John smiled and followed Sherlock back into the camp to John's tent, when they entered his tent John pulled Sherlock back to him wanting to taste him again.
As Watson pulled Sherlock against him, Sherlock smiled, leaning in to kiss him again. This time, it was deeper, his arms wrapping around him to pull their bodies flush against one another.
Sherlock wrapped his arms around John pulling them closer and John let him. John once again tangled his hands in Sherlock's hair, enjoying the feeling.
Sherlock was a little nervous. Strange as it might have been, he had never gone further than this point with anyone, and even this he had only done while in disguise on a case. He did not get close to people, after all, he saw them merely as figures in an equation. Watson was different, though. Sherlock broke away again to catch his breath, pressing another quick kiss to John's jaw.
When Sherlock broke away John quickly caught his breath as Sherlock placed a quick kiss to John's jaw. "Holmes," John murmured.
Sherlock shivered as John said his name, running a hand over his back. Sherlock wondered for a moment if this was really about him, or if John was only feeling lonely after his fiancé's death, not entirely sure how to ask that question.
"I need you Holmes," John looked at Sherlock seeing the thoughts in his eyes, "Just stay with me and hold me at least. Please."
His words erased the thoughts from Sherlock's mind - an astounding feat on its own - and his eyes softened. Sherlock reached up to take John's face in his hands, kissing him on the lips again. "If you need me, then I am here, Watson."
John took Sherlock's hand and led him over to John's cot where John laid down with him, snuggling his head into Sherlock's chest.
As they laid down and Watson snuggled into Sherlock's chest, Sherlock wrapped his arms around John, drawing John closer to him. It was strange for him, to be laying with someone, but it was warm and comfortable.
It was so warm and comfortable being in Homes' arms as he drew John closer to him. "I'm sorry Holmes," John whispered.
Sherlock frowned, not sure why John was apologizing to him. "Whatever for, my dear Watson?" Sherlock asked softly.
John laughed lightly, "I really don't know. It just seemed to be the right thing to say. I guess its for everything, for making you think that you were just a replacement for Mary."
John's words brought a pause to Sherlock, and Sherlock frowned, turning them over in his head. "Aren't I?" he asked quietly. "You loved her, after all. Surely you cannot be over her death by now."
"True I am still saddened," John was surprised by his words, "But, for some reason I have been fighting back feelings for you when I practically first laid eyes on you."
John's words caused heat to travel to Sherlock's cheeks, but he pushed the blush away. "That is romantic twaddle, Watson. There can be no 'feelings' save lust before you even know who I am," Sherlock stated, though if he were honest, he had felt much the same way. Since Watson first showed Sherlock his intelligence, Sherlock's feelings had become stronger and stronger.
John laughed slightly, "May we just lay here? No more talking?"
Something about the doctor's laugh always caused Sherlock to melt a little. Despite his words, he smiled faintly. "Yes. That sounds like a fantastic idea."
John smiled softly, allowing his self to drift off to sleep in Sherlock's arms. It was just so comfortable there, he felt safe, safer then he ever had before. When he fell asleep he felt completely at peace.
Sherlock listened to John's breath even out, smiling a little to his self. Sherlock closed his eyes and eventually fell asleep as well, content and warm.
John heard deep, even breathing and he smiled as he looked up to see that Holmes was actually there and last night wasn't a dream. John kissed Sherlock's jaw hoping it would wake him up.
Sherlock was woken by the gentle brush along his jaw. His eyes fluttered open slowly, and a warm happiness filled him when he was greeted by Watson's soft blue eyes. "Good morning."
John smiled reaching up and kissing Sherlock on his lips, "We should get up, before someone comes in here and we both get into trouble."
Sherlock sighed, knowing they'd have to move, but not much wanting to. "Of course." He forced his self to release John, sitting up on the cot and attempting to smooth his rumpled up uniform.
John sat up then looked at Sherlock shaking his head, "I should of let you get some other type of clothing, so you didn't have to sleep in your uniform."
Sherlock shrugged, standing up. "I've slept in worse conditions." He ran his fingers through his hair in an attempt to smooth it as well, but it really only ruffled it up more. "If anyone questions me being in your tent, we will simply tell them that we are continuing with my experimenting.
John smiled up at Sherlock, "In a way we were experimenting old boy." John kissed Sherlock, "I like it when your hair's like that, leave it that-a-way."
The kiss and his compliment caused Sherlock to smile again, his cheeks turning pink if John wanted Sherlock to leave his hair this way, he would gladly do it. "Is that an order, Sir?" He asked teasingly.
John's cheeks turned slightly pink at Sherlock's teasing, he smirked at Sherlock, "I guess so, but here is a better order. Kiss me Holmes."
Sherlock knew that if he wanted to, he could tell John no, and John would not object, but Sherlock obeyed the order anyways. "Yes sir," he murmured as Sherlock took John's face into his hands and kissed John again, passionately.
John smiled into the kiss, tangling his hands in Sherlock's hair as John was so accustomed to. He continued the kiss for a while longer before breaking away panting, "We need to get moving, someone might just pop in."
Sherlock nearly whimpered as Watson broke away, not wanting it to end, though he was quite out of breath by now. "Yes... of course..." Sherlock responded, knowing John was right. Shaking his head at his self, Sherlock took a couple steps away and straightened his clothing one last time. "Shall we then, Doctor?"
"I will see you later Holmes," John said as he walked out of the tent and headed on his way to the medical tent. When he got there he was able to relieve the doctor on duty, and after that release the final patient, deeming him healthy enough to go on. After that was done John sat down and started working on some paperwork.
Sherlock walked out after Watson, going to perform his own duties. Sherlock was, unfortunately, still a low rank, and was thus assigned to some of the menial work around camp. He seemed to be running around camp for everyone, yet while he should have been bored, Sherlock felt lighter than air, thinking about last night. His delight only grew when a higher ranked soldier ordered Sherlock to deliver some forms to the doctor. "Watson?" Sherlock asked, entering the medical tent.
John looked up at the sound of his voice being called, "In here," he called back wondering what Holmes was doing in the medical tent.
Hearing Watson, Sherlock continued into the tent, approaching the desk he was at. "I have some forms here for you to sign, oh great commanding officer," Sherlock joked softly, his good mood clear. The first good mood that he had been in since arriving there, in fact, and all thanks to the man before him now.
John smiled up at Sherlock, "You seem in a wonderful mood so far today old boy, care to tell me why?" John looked at him waiting.
Sherlock set the paperwork in front of John before resting his hands flat on the desk, looking down at him. "I've absolutely no reason at all to be in a wonderful mood. I'm running around the camp doing everyone's dirty work - but perhaps I just woke up on the right side of the bed this morning." Sherlock smiled teasingly at John, knowing the 'right side of the bed' was 'his bed'.
John's smile got bigger, "Well I could have you being dirty work here, and I guess I'm going to have you wake up on the right side of the bed more often."
Sherlock forced his self not to blush, not wanting anyone to catch on to their flirting. "I am here to do any dirty work you might require, Doctor" he shot back, his own smile growing as he added a suggestive note to his words. "I hope to waking up on the right side of the bed whenever possible."
John's smile got huge at Sherlock's last words, "Maybe later you can do some dirty work for my, right now I need to fill out this paper work."
It was very difficult to restrain from leaning in and kissing John at that moment. Instead, Sherlock forced his self to take a couple steps back. "I am quite looking forward to it."
John watched as Sherlock took a couple of steps back, John was having so much fun playing with him. "I am to Holmes," John replied back with a smirk.
"Until then, my dear Watson," Sherlock saluted to John, stepping out of the tent quickly before he lost his self control and simply kissed John there in front of everyone else.
John smiled as Sherlock walked out, a half of an hour later he finally finished all of the paperwork. "John where in the bloody hell are you?" John looked up at the sound of Phillip's voice. "In here Phillip." Phillip found him, "Aha, now lets go. You been doing far to much paper work John, have you ate yet?"
John looked to Phillip opening his mouth to answer when his stomach grumbled, "Well there's your answer Phillip." He smiled, grabbing John by the wrist, "Well its time for you to eat." He then proceeded to drag John to the mess tent and made him make a plate to eat. When John sat down and started eating Phillip started talking.
Sherlock continued to run around, doing all those little errands for those of higher rank than his self. Often times, he had to force his self not to roll his eyes because, as good of a mood as he was in, he knew he was far too intelligent to be playing errand boy. Finally, Sherlock decided to get something to eat, stopping at the mess tent. Feeling as happy as he was, he actually had an appetite, filling his plate up. Sherlock peered around, pleased to spot Watson sitting down, though a bit disappointed to see him chatting with someone else. Still, Sherlock wouldn't let the man - also a doctor, he deduced easily - ruin his chance to talk with Watson a little more. So Sherlock moved to sit down nearby, "Watson," he greeted before glancing at the other man. "Doctor."
John looked to Holmes smiled, "Holmes this is Phillip, Philip this is Sherlock Holmes, the soldier that has been so helpful to me." Phillip smiled extending his hand, "Nice to meet you, although for the life of me I don't know why he hasn't properly introduced us before." John rolled his eyes, "Maybe Phillip because you are you."
Sherlock smiled wryly, politely shaking the hand offered to him. "And you. I see that you had to replace some stitches today. I do hope the patient is well," he commented off-handedly, showing off his deductions a little, a smooth smile on his face.
Phillip looked surprised, "How did you do that?" He asked like a child in a candy store. John pinched the bridge of his nose, "Phillip I've told you before and I'll tell you again, you need to grow up." Philip just ignored John and kept looking at Holmes.
Sherlock smiled, pleased that Phillip seemed to think it so impressive. "It's quite simple," he said, taking a slightly smug bite of his meal. "There is an indent on your left index finger where you hold the suture tight while stitching with your right hand. It also proves to me that you are right-handed, and that you had to give the patient at least twenty stitches to be holding it so long. It was a serious injury, then."
"Very well then," John stood up, "I have paperwork to turn in. Have fun talking. I will see the two of you whenever." He then walked out of the mess tent leaving Phillip to turn in his plate. He then went to the medical tent, just a few yards away from the tent he heard a stick break right in the woods. "Hello. Holmes is that you?" John called out.
Sherlock talked with Philip for a little while, but soon enough he finished his meal and stood up, saying his goodbye. Watson likely had actual work to do, and Sherlock couldn't just stop in all the time, so he began to wander a little bit, pushing his hands into his pockets.
John watched as a man in an enemy uniform stepped put, "Not quite." He then held his pistol up at John, "This is for the gas incident." He then shot John in the leg, he yelled falling to the ground watching as the other man put the gun to his head and pulling the trigger, his lifeless body falling to the ground.
Sherlock was about to head to his own tent when the sound of two gunshots and a yell caught his attention. His eyes widened - he recognized that voice! "Watson!" He turned sharply, running toward the medical tent. Sherlock saw him on the ground, a stain of blood blooming around his leg. Sherlock dropped to his knees beside him, yanking off his uniform coat to press it over the wound, trying to slow the bleeding. "We need a doctor here!"
"Holmes, thank you." John whispered as Sherlock took off his uniform coat and pressed it to John's wound. He grasped the front of Sherlock's shirt, "Please don't leave me Sherlock. I don't want to be alone."
Sherlock was surprised when John called him Sherlock - the only person that ever called him by his first name was his brother - but he did not waste time dwelling on it. "I will not leave you, John," Sherlock promised firmly, wanting so badly to kiss him, but a doctor arrived at their sides before he could."We need to get him to the medical te-"Sherlock had already lifted Watson into his arms before the doctor could finish, and he hurried to the medical tent, setting John gently on the operating table.
John remember being lifted in someone's arms then carried somewhere, where he was then sat on a table very gently. Then after that there was only darkness.
The doctors pushed Sherlock away, insisting that he go wait elsewhere, but he did not want to move away. "Soldier, the best thing you can do for him is go and let us do our jobs!" A soldier snapped. Sherlock hesitated, knowing he was right, and finally relented, going instead to wait in the post-op room.A while later after the surgery, they moved John to one of the beds, and Sherlock was at his side. In an instant.
John slowly opened my eyes to see Holmes sitting there at his bedside, he was slightly dozing. John looked around to remember what happened to him. "Holmes, are you awake?" John whispered not wanting to awake Sherlock if he was asleep.
Sherlock was very tired, waiting for Watson to wake up. He almost drifted off to sleep, until he heard his name. Sherlock started, his eyes snapping open and falling on the other man. "Watson?" He whispered, relief and joy, as well as several other emotions, washing over me. Sherlock reached out, cupping John's face in his hands and running his thumbs over John's cheeks. "John... I had thought..."
John smiled trying not to cry, "You thought what, my dear old boy? A simple gunshot to the leg won't kill me."
Sherlock laughed bitterly, knowing how silly it sounded. "No, I just..." He shook his head, trying to think of how to explain the fear that had hit him. "I have never... CARED about..." Anyone, really. He had never felt that type of concern, or helplessness. Sherlock was accustomed to being in a situation where he knew exactly what to do... but he was not a doctor.
John smiled laying a hand on Sherlock's chest, "You care about me, don't you?"
Had they not been in the middle of the medical tent, Sherlock probably would have kissed him. Instead, he just smiled, resting his hand over John's on his chest. "Yes," Sherlock admitted softly. "I do."
Oh how John wished that they were alone, and not in the middle of the damn medical tent. "Holmes, can you go and find the doctor please?" John asked him softly.
Watson needed something, and Sherlock nodded quickly, practically jumping up. "Of course! I will be only a moment." He hurried off to find the doctor that had cared for John. Not long after, he returned, the surgeon on his heels.
John looked up at the surgeon, "Can you do something about the nauseas? And possibly something for pain, not to much because I want to go back to my tent soon Thomas."
Sherlock could not help hovering nearby, concern tugging at his heart as Watson spoke of nausea and pain. Thomas smiled sympathetically "I can give you some ginger ale for the nausea, and some morphine for the pain, but you know as well as I do you won't be going back to your tent any time soon. Not until we rule out infection."
John huffed a sigh rolling his eyes just in the slightest, "Fine, but I want to be aware of my surroundings Thomas." John looked over to Holmes, "Quit being a mother hen Holmes, I will be fine."
Sherlock frowned, his cheeks reddening a little as John pointed out that he was acting like a mother hen. Sherlock wasn't sure what else to do with his self. Thomas just nodded. "I can try and find something weaker, if you'd like to be more aware."
John smiled up at Holmes and his reddening cheeks, and watched as Thomas walked away. "Holmes, why don't you go and get some sleep? You could use it, I don't want you running yourself ragged because of me. I will be fine, I am in the medical tent, with plenty of doctors and whatnot."
Sherlock frowned, remembering his promise not to leave John. He had sounded so desperate then, but now here he was, alive, better, telling Sherlock to go rest. "I will be fine, Watson. Those doctors have many patients, they will be too busy to get you everything you need."
John slightly glared at Sherlock, "Fine, but you have to rest later. I don't want you getting sick or anything because of me Sherlock."
"Now YOU are acting like a mother hen," Sherlock pointed out. "I am not the one who was shot, Watson. I will be fine."
John rolled his eyes, "You are lucky were in the middle of the medical tent Sherlock. Fine stand guard, just please make sure you don't get into to much trouble."
Sherlock pulled up a chair, sitting down next to Watson and smiling innocently. "Trouble? Me? What kind of man do you take me for, Doctor?"
John laughed, wincing when the laughter shook his leg, causing it to hurt even more, "This is why I hate the bloody war." John grabbed his leg, being careful so he wouldn't cause it more damage.
As he cringed, Sherlock started to reach out, stopping before he actually touched John. "Is that the only reason?" He asked softly, wishing he could do something to sooth the pain.
John thought for a moment before smiling and replying, "Besides the threat of dieing, and getting tortured, yeah that would be it."
Sherlock chuckled lightly, unable to resist reaching out to touch his shoulder. "I am... glad that you are okay, Watson. Do not scare me like that again, I beg you."
Before John could say anything Thomas came back in, "Here you go John this should do it for a little while." John smiled, "Thank you Thomas."
A big thanks to Jolly jamaican janitor for giving me the laugh that I needed….this chapter was dedicated just for you honey! Thanks to everyone else as well! I love you all! 3
So I've just gotten out of the hospital and it feels good to be home and watching Fruits Basket :-D even if netflix is being a DB….oh well.
Oh and I have a question…have stopped sending any of you guys notifications? Its driving you bloody insane! Anyway please R&R!SAVANNAH! 333333
P.S. And I promise that the "dirty gay sex" is coming up ;-D