Chapter 5

"What about Moriarty?"

"He doesn't frighten me," John stated firmly.

Sherlock propped himself up on his elbows so that he could look at John more squarely. "You do remember all those things he said at the pool? All those threats of burning and the like? John, with the way things are now, it is the same as if he was referring to you. Hurting you in order to get to me."

"Sherlock, I don't plan on burning. I'm sure you aren't planning on it either," the doctor smiled. He reached up to move a stray hair out of the detective's face. "You shouldn't worry about it. Besides, I can protect you."

"Moriarty could hurt you in order to destroy me," Sherlock said with slow emphasis. "I should take responsibility and protect you," he insisted.

"Look, no one needs to protect anyone from anybody yet, Sherlock. And I don't see Moriarty wasting his time and efforts on me," John assured. "Don't worry about it."

"This is Moriarty we are talking about, John." Sherlock sat up completely now, John falling back into his lap. "The man that strapped bombs to you and other people."

"Yes, I know," John said strongly, trying to get his point across. "But if he tried anything like that again, you would know because you're clever and stop it."

Still looking rather edgy, Sherlock nodded uncertainly. "Alright."

John leaned in to give Sherlock another gentle kiss. "Yes, it's going to be alright," he said, then a mocking smirk appeared. "Besides, you seem more likely to get hit by a car than destroyed by Moriarty."

"That wasn't important," Sherlock retorted. "And it won't happen again."

"How is almost getting hit by a car not important?" John raised his voice. "You could have been injured or worse. Am I not allowed to be afraid for you, is that it?"

There was a slight jerk back in Sherlock's shoulders as if he'd been startled. "Afraid for me?"

"Of course," John huffed. "You're recklessness is going to be the end of you."

"Who cares if I'm reckless as long as I do my job?" the dark haired man retorted. "As long as I can solve the case?"

"Not life threatening wise," John stated quietly. Sadness slowly crept into his eyes as he remembered previous cases where Sherlock had been reckless, where he could have gotten hurt.

Seeing his flatmate's distress, Sherlock leaned closer and tried to comfort him. "John, please don't worry. I'm alive. I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere. I will never leave you now that I have you."

"Better not," was the childish reply.

To get his message across even further, Sherlock wrapped his arms around John and pressed their lips together. When he pulled back he spoke again. "I will not. Nothing will take you from me."

"I feel the same way," John kissed him back. "I don't know what I would do if you weren't around."

"You would have a psychosomatic limp, a hand tremor, wouldn't be able to pay full rent and would be completely bored," Sherlock listed off briskly. A smirk tugging at his mouth.

Looking at the man before him with a rather bemused expression due to the response he got, he spoke up innocently. "As incredibly accurate as that was, I didn't mean for you to answer it."

Sherlock raised a brow. "When you're talking with me you will get an answer," he stated obviously.

John rolled his eyes. "Oh, shut up," he muttered, deciding to silence the man with another kiss.

Completely okay with this form of silence, Sherlock returned the kiss. It didn't stop him from filing their conversation deep inside his mind palace for later.

John pulled them closer together by burying his fists into Sherlock's shirt, deepening their kiss. Though the dark haired man was enjoying himself immensely, he pulled away to trail short and soft kissed along John's cheeks, slowly moving down to nip at the others neck. Shivering in excitement, quiet moans slipped from the blond's lips. His hands explored along Sherlock's chest, feeling out the angles and curves, wanting to feel more of the other man. Sherlock inhaled sharply when John's warm fingers pushed open the buttons of shirt and come in contact with his warm skin. It was so calming yet exhilarating at the same time. In an attempt to reciprocate the feeling, Sherlock's right hand edged underneath John new shirt, his slender fingers finding their spot in the small of his back and rubbing slow circles on the skin. All the while ensuring the kisses to John's skin never stopped. The doctor's hands continued exploring the pale skin, his fingertips brushed over the other's nipples.

The jolt of arousal from the touches to his sensitive skin startled Sherlock out of his little daze and he quickly stopped his previous administrations and pulled away. "John, wait."

John froze at the serious tone and also backed up slightly, reluctantly moving his hands from the smooth skin. "What's wrong?"

Taking a deep breath that turned into a sigh, Sherlock looked at his boyfriend in the eye. "I think it's best to wait."

It took a moment for the words to sink in, but then John's eyes dawned in comprehension and he slowly nodded. "Alright, I understand," he murmured. "But… can I ask…?"

"I just think we should slow down," Sherlock hurriedly explained. "It's not that I don't want to, I don't think it's a bad idea. However, it should be best if we approach this… slowly and smartly."

Again, John nodded slowly, his body relaxing as he pushed what had been the first tingles of arousal to the back of his mind. He could see Sherlock's reasoning and he didn't want to do anything to upset the man.

Underneath him, the detective was in the same mindset. Sherlock gently took John's hands and leaned his head against the man's good shoulder. "I hope I'm not annoying you," he said almost guiltily.

"No, Sherlock," John gripped the hand in his. "Don't think that. Especially when it comes to things like this." He leaned closer to press a comforting kiss to the detective's forehead. "Besides even if you are annoying, I'm still here, right?"

"That's because you're an idiot," Sherlock snickered. "The best idiot I have ever met."

John gave him a small smile. "That was almost a compliment."

"Well, since you are always complimenting my work, it's about time I returned the favour just this once."

The two of them laughed together at that. Leaning against each other in complete comfort. The chuckles eventually died down to be once more replaced by the peaceful silence.

"It's late," Sherlock said after a while. "Should we be turning in?"

"You? Sleep? I didn't think you were capable of that," John joked.

"I think that I am quiet tired after solving nearly three cases, confessing my love, kissing you and you in general," Sherlock stated.

"Alright, alright," John conceded, climbing off the other man. He placed one last kiss into the soft curls. "Good night, Sherlock."

A disappointed look appeared on the detective's face. "I said we should turn in," he said again with more emphasis.

"Oh?" It clicked in John's mind, but he tried to hide his excitement. "Won't people talk?"

"Haven't I said that people do little else?" was Sherlock's reply. "I also ruined the heating in your room accidently during my last experiment, it will be cold up there."

"Accidentally?" John asked sceptically. "I suppose I have no other choice," he sighed with a smile.

With a pleased hum, Sherlock stood up from the couch and pulled John into a soft hug that was quickly returned. Arms around each other, the two of them slowly made their way to Sherlock's room. Even when they entered the room, neither broke contact nor said a word. Sherlock simply lead the way over to the bed and pulled them both down onto the mattress.

A huff of laughter was pushed from John's lungs as he landed on Sherlock's chest. He looked up at the taller man, never thinking he was the sort to fall into bed. "Good one," he huffed.

Sherlock just held him closer, his eyes already closed. His hands absent mindedly playing with the material of John's shirt, fisting it between his fingers and smoothing it out.

"I can't fall asleep in this position, you know?" the doctor said in a partially serious tone.

Grunting, Sherlock rolled them over onto their sides. Now their legs were slightly entangled and one of the detective's arms was now trapped between John and the mattress, but he didn't mind. He simply buried his nose into blond tresses and held the man tighter.

"That's better," John said, sighing contentedly at the new position.

A thought bubbled up at Sherlock's head. "Do you want to get into your pajamas?" he thought it was at least proper to ask.

"No, I'm fine," John replied. He then pulled closer so they wouldn't be separated.

As they settled back down on the bed, John jumped when Sherlock started to gently nibble on the blond's ear on a whim. "Stop that," John said, not sounding very convincing to either of them.

But Sherlock complied anyway, instead he rubbed comforting circles across John's back. When he spoke again his tone was quiet and serious. "You still have nightmares," he said, looking down at the man in his arms.

John took a second to organize his thoughts that had become unsettled by the statement. Unconsciously he moved closer to the other, as if hiding from something. "Yes," the answer was simple and quiet. "I'm not going to wake up screaming though," he tried to reassure, a sad smile on his face.

Sherlock hushed softly, running fingers through the man's hair. "Don't worry. I'll be right here for you if it happens. I'll even make you a cup of tea."

John shook his head. "There's no need to do that. You need to be resting instead of watching me all night."

"Oh, I only need a couple hours, I'll be fine," Sherlock said blandly. "Now go to sleep like a good soldier."

"Sherlock," John's voice was stern, "I do not want that. You need your rest as much as I. I would rather you don't harm yourself for my sake."

"Alright, fine," the detective placated. "Can't I just look out for you?" he asked exasperatedly.

"I appreciate the thought don't get me wrong. I'm just trying to take care of you too," John explained.

"Can't we plan out looking-after-each-other time? You look after me when I'm on a case and I look after you so that you don't get nightmares."

"A very good suggestion," John smiled.

"Of course, I came up with it."

John rolled his eyes at the expected response.

"Good night, John," Sherlock sighed. He reached down to the end of the bed and pulled up the duvet over the two of them.

"Good night, Sherlock," the doctor said softly. He settled more comfortably into the soft mattress and the warmth of the man beside him and slowly fell asleep.

Sherlock stayed awake for a couple more hours, watching over this one special person, the one he loved. But even sleep began to tug at the detective's eyes and body. Right before he passed out he mumbled some last words. "I love you, John. I will never let you go."

He didn't. All night he kept the army doctor in in arms and close to his chest.

John's only response was a soft snore.