Chapter 5: Questions and Answers

Sherloc didn't need cases to keep himself busy with like he used to. Being in love and intimate with Jon contributed to fulfilling him. He felt content. Simply lying in bed with Jon often was peaceful, because he knew he was in the right place at the right time with the right man.

When discussing what safety word to use they agreed on 'lemon', because it was not a word they used in casual conversation. Its connotations were: "Yellow like a warning sign, tastes unpleasant - Stop!" Easy to remember. A few weeks into their relationship as life-partners, neither of them had to use it yet.

Jon was a perceptive lover, not rough. Just because Sherloc refused to be penetrated by anything in any way didn't mean he didn't occasionally fantasize about being dominated by Jon, whom he trusted, just a little bit. He had asked Jon whether he would restrain him, or hit him, just a little bit. Jon refused adamantly!

"I don't understand why you refuse to restrain or hit me," Sherloc thought out loud. "It doesn't have to be tight, and it doesn't have to result in red skin, welts or bruising."

"It's called consensual sex, Sherloc, con meaning together, both partners have to agree. I'm not agreeing!" Jon was starting to get upset. "You won't even let me lick your anus or insert one finger! Do you even know what it feels like to have your prostate stimulated? - Never mind, I didn't think so," he said on seeing Sherloc's raised eyebrows. "I don't sit here and ask you to let me penetrate you. Why do you not want to be penetrated anyways, can you answer that? - I'm going to the loo, we can continue talking when I'm back. - Do you want me to bring you something to eat or drink?" Jon offered.

Sherloc shook his head, watched Jon put on his dressing gown and disappear in the bathroom. He stretched out under the duvet, put his hands under his head and thought about what Jon had said and asked.

ooo

He understood the meaning of consensual. If Jon were so much as to touch his anus directly, he'd say "Lemon!" He got that. The way he imagined to be tied or hit, just a little bit, he didn't consider to be heavy bondage or beating. Since it wasn't, why was Jon so set against it?

He had noticed that Jon liked to cuddle, put his head on Sherloc's shoulder. Sometimes he'd place it deliberately on his chest. Also, - maybe Jon thought Sherloc wouldn't notice, but of course he did - quite often he took Sherloc's pulse unobtrusively after he had an orgasm. Why would he do that, take his pulse? Which was feeling Sherloc's heartbeat with his fingers... When he put his head on his chest, was it in order to listen to Sherloc's heart beat?

Given the opportunity, Jon also liked to feel, massage, knead his bum, always respecting that Sherloc did not want his anus touched. Getting his cheeks kissed tenderly could be arousing... Maybe not wanting to be penetrated had something to do with wanting to be in control? But he was willing to give up some control to Jon by willing to be restrained or hit, just a little bit,... His aversion didn't make sense to himself, he wasn't a psychologist.

He did know why he liked penetrating Jon. For one, this act was physically and mentally arousing, but second, it went deeper than that: He wanted to share himself physically with Jon in the deepest way possible that he could think of, which was to put his semen inside him. A gift of himself, to share, to be assimilated into his body, to become one. It was more than sex, he realized, for him it was spiritual. - He blinked.

Did Jon view anal intercourse with him the same way? Did he want to give him a gift of himself in the form of his semen put deep inside Sherloc? Would Sherloc accept this gift if he offered? Of course he would welcome and want it! Viewed this way, the thought of him being penetrated by Jon became arousing...

ooo

Jon came back from the bathroom, hung up his dressing gown. Lifting the corner of the duvet to lie down beside Sherloc, he noticed his hard-on. He smiled briefly, lay down, propped himself up on his elbow to look at Sherloc.

"What were you thinking about?" his eyes moved to the area where Sherloc's erection was under the duvet.

"The last thing I was thinking about was you giving me the gift of your semen deep inside me," Sherloc said sounding reverently. "Do you view anal intercourse with me like that? Is that what you want?"

Jon swallowed, began to get hard himself talking about this topic. "Erm, I hadn't really, so far. I was more thinking of that it can be pleasurable and certainly is intimate. - A gift? Yeah, that makes sense... It sounds soppy, romantic, and deeeep," Jon lowered his voice there. "Does that mean you want to try it some time?" His smile was soft and hopeful.

"Likely, yes. I'm surprised myself, given my previous unwillingness. Hmm..."

"Maybe it's a matter of perspective? Seeing it as receiving a gift helps you want it?" Jon raised his eyebrows in question.

"Looks like it," Sherloc propped himself also up on his elbow to face Jon. "Seeing how I'm willing to try something I didn't want before, will you ever restrain or hit me just a little bit?"

Jon's face took on a more serious expression. "I don't even like to talk about it. I don't know... Like, I assume you want me to do that cause you think you'll find it arousing... but I find that picture very disturbing. - Distressing would be the better word," he said after a brief pause. "Somehow I have this need to see you free and unhurt..."

"Hmm...," Sherloc mused, "can I ask you something?"

"Go ahead."

"I think you like to put your head on my chest sometimes to hear my heart beat, and sometimes you take my pulse after I come. You thought I wouldn't notice... Why is that?"

Jon swallowed. "Pardon?" Pretending he didn't understand the question wouldn't make it go away.

Sherloc looked at him puzzled. "You do it when you're relaxed, or after you've come already, so it's not about sexual pleasure for you. Did you do that with previous lovers as well? - Or is it just me?" he asked interpreting Jon's facial expressions. "I see..."

"What?"

"For some reason you have the need to know that my heart beats. Heartbeat equals life, ergo you have the need to reassure yourself that I am alive. - Why?"

"I..."

"Is this connected to what caused you to change? Something happened when you were at the hospital? - At Spiddi's you said you were afraid I wouldn't believe you."

Jon pursed his lips, blinked. "I'd rather not talk about it."

Sherloc lay down, extended his arm towards Jon. "Lie down? You can put your head on my shoulder, or on my chest. I will try to believe you. I promise."

After a few seconds Jon lay down, put his head on Sherloc's shoulder. He placed his free arm over Sherloc's waist. Sherloc slid his hand under Jon's so he'd be able to take his pulse if he felt the need to.

"I haven't told anyone," he said quietly. "You're right, I do check your heartbeat. I didn't even know why I felt the need to, but now it makes sense..."

"I'm listening," Sherloc placed a kiss on Jon's head.

"As you know I fractured my skull. I was unconscious for a few days. When I came to they asked me what I remembered, meaning from before I lost consciousness."

"And?"

"I did remember, from before. - Erm,..." Jon cleared his throat, "this is difficult."

"Take your time..."

Jon was quiet for a minute, then cleared his throat again. He sighed, was quiet for another minute.

"I'm here," Sherloc reassured him by placing another kiss on Jon's head.

"Right,... So,... Erm," he licked his lips, "it must have happened some time while I was unconscious. I saw a newspaper page. What jumped out at me were four names, three of which I recognized, just spelled slightly differently. Your first name ended with 'ck', your brother's was with 'c' only, mine also had an 'h'. The fourth was only a last name starting with 'M', so I don't know whether it was a man's or a woman's, I don't want to spell it out."

"Interesting," Sherloc commented. "Did you glean anything about circumstances from this newspaper page?"

"No. I think it was strictly to point out the different spelling of names."

Sherloc could not imagine Jon changing so obviously just from having seen names spelled differently. "What else happened? You saw something else?" he encouraged Jon to go on.

"Yes. There was this man, John Watson, with an 'h', from the newspaper page, he looked just like me. I was kind of experiencing things through him there... Anyways,..." Jon sighed again, "he was on his cell, looking up at Sherlock - with 'ck', looked just like you by the way - who was standing right on the edge of the roof of a multi-story building. - It's... He said, 'Goodbye, John.' I said 'No, don't.', shouted his name as I watched him fall," Jon paused, 'It was horrible!' remained unsaid.

"I couldn't get to him right away, a small group of people had gathered where he lay. There was a lot of blood from his head, I took his pulse - couldn't feel it - his eyes were open... then we were separated."

"I'm sorry you experienced this," Sherloc pulled Jon close to him.

Jon pressed a kiss on Sherloc's chest as he placed his fingers on Sherloc's wrist to take his pulse. Sherloc felt his shoulder getting wet as Jon began to cry.

"You know, I know John loves Sherlock, and Sherlock loves John. I felt it. Definitely!" he sniffled. "But up until that point neither of them had told the other. It's a fucking tragedy!" Jon sobbed clutching at Sherloc.

Sherloc's eyes were filled with tears as well, some ran down his cheeks. He kept quiet for a while until Jon appeared to calm down, then reached over to his night table, grabbed a tissue and placed it in Jon's hand. Jon wiped at his eyes with it and also used it to wipe up some of his tears and mucus from his nose off Sherloc's shoulder, then tossed it on Sherloc's side of the bed. Finally he sighed.

"Thanks for listening. Do you believe me?" he asked.

"That you experienced this while you were unconscious? Yes, I do. I have no reason to doubt you."

Jon breathed a sigh of relief. "What does it mean, though?"

"I don't know," Sherloc frowned. "You said you recognized three of the four names. So the man or woman you called 'M' you haven't met yet. Since three of the four names are spelled only slightly different, do you think you would recognize that name if it also was spelled slightly different?"

Jon nodded.

"Can you tell me the fourth name?"

Jon hesitated. "Maybe there's a reason I haven't met this person yet."

"If you don't tell me the name, how do you know that I haven't met this person before I met you?"

"I don't want to say it. Do you have a piece of paper?"

Sherloc pulled his arm out from under Jon's head, leaned towards his night table and retrieved a notepad and pen from the drawer, handed them to Jon.

Jon looked at the paper for a second, pursed his lips, then wrote down 'Moriarty'. He stabbed with the pen at the name, saying, "Somehow I don't like this name. At. All," before handing the pad back to Sherloc.

"I have not met someone with this or a similar name," Sherloc said looking serious. "But, should we meet someone going by this name we can exercise caution. Thank you for telling me," Sherloc placed the pen and notepad on his night table, then lay down again to embrace Jon.

"I studied chemistry, not physics. Apparently there are different theories about time, space, reality, the universe... Not my area, really. But... Do you have an opinion on whether it was just a dream, or whether Sherlock, with 'ck', and John, with an 'h', really exist? Rest assured I do not plan to jump off any roof!"

"I'm not sure... I mean, of course I've thought about it. When he, John, tried to get to Sherlock, I felt like out of my body, it felt surreal, probably because John was in shock." Jon felt miserable revisiting the scene.

"Is it possible that Sherlock survived?"

"I can't say. It was an older building, the ones with the tall ceilings. He fell at least four stories... Like I said, we, I mean they, were separated. I only saw it up until then. - Of course I've wondered, if he exists, what if he survived? Maybe he was unconscious, like I was with my fractured skull, or in a coma, hasn't woken up yet?" For Jon it was painful to contemplate this. "I think John believed he was dead, because he was not able to feel a hearbeat when he took his pulse on his wrist. - Maybe that's why I was taking your pulse and listening to your heartbeat."

"You're a doctor. You know what the criteria to declare someone dead are. People have fallen from greater heights and survived..."

Jon nodded.

"Would it help you if we accept the possibility that he may have survived?"

"If he did, he may have severe medical issues as a consequence of that fall," Jon put his hand over his eyes.

"Is one possibility 'better' or easier to bear than the other: have possibly severe medical issues to deal with, or be dead?"

This was a heavy, sobering topic. They both sighed.

"I could need some fresh air. Would you like to come along for a walk?" Sherloc suggested. He certainly did not want to leave Jon by himself after their conversation.

"Probably a good idea, fresh air, think about and see something else," Jon agreed.

"I love you," Sherloc said, kissing him softly on the lips.

"I love you, too," Jon tightened his embrace on Sherloc.

"Do you think they would have eventually said that to each other?"

"I do," Jon started crying again. - He needed several more tissues to wipe up all the tears and mucus he left on Sherloc's shoulder.

ooo

"I'll make us some tea before we go out," Sherloc offered while Jon went to go have a shower.

"Thanks, I won't be long," Jon called from behind the bathroom door.

Sherloc got himself dressed quickly, tore the page with Moriarty's name from the notepad. After putting the kettle on, he proceeded to burn the page in the fireplace. He poured their cups of tea, carried them to the coffee table.

Jon's eyes and nose were still a little bit red, but overall he looked relieved when he joined Sherloc on the couch.

"Tea, lovely...," Jon reached for his cup.

"Hmm, I agree. I burned that page, by the way. I want to take the ashes along and get rid of them somewhere."

"Sounds good to me. What do you want to do for supper?" Jon inquired.

"There's this new East Indian restaurant we could go to after our walk," Sherloc suggested.

When they were finished with their tea - Sherloc only drank half of his, he liked the taste better when Jon made it, actually - he carried the mugs to the kitchen, then put the small amount of cooled ashes into an envelope, which he put in his coat pocket.

"Ready?"

"Ready," Jon put the medical journal he had started to read in the meantime down. They put on their coats and headed out to the park nearby.

"Here's a good place to get rid of these ashes," Sherloc said as they were crossing a bridge over moving water. He let go of Jon's hand, retrieved the envelope. After checking from where the wind blew they stood on the appropriate side of the bridge to make sure nothing of the ash would touch them.

"Here goes," his hands reached over the railing, opened the envelope, tilted and shook it to get the ashes to fall out. Next, he tore up the envelope into little bits, watched thoughtfully and determinedly as they fell into the water as well.

"Thanks, Sherloc." Jon, who had been watching the ash and envelope dumping, took his hand, squeezed it and held on. "Let's go on."

There on that bridge, Sherloc sincerely prayed, "Thank you, God, for sending me Jon."

ooo

Several months later Sherloc proposed.

Jon replied, "Yes, Sherloc, of course."

ooo

"M" never showed.

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