#deaf!john

Today was the day you were finally going to tell him how you felt. You didn't know how he was going to respond but he was your best bro. You really hoped he wouldn't reject you and never talk to you again. That would be the worst thing to happen. You had been going to speech therapy for months for this and your voice was still really shaky, or so your therapist had told you the day before. Even so you were really excited, yet nervous at the same time. Grabbing your backpack, your dad gave you a quick hug that you shrugged off. You walked outside to wait for Dave to come pick you up for school. Five minutes later he pulled up and by that point you were shaking with nervousness. Stepping up into his red truck you waved at him and he nodded at you. A few minutes later you pulled into the high school parking lot and you realized this was your last chance to say it before he got crowded with people. You sighed deeply and leaned closer to him. "Dave," You said, and he looked at you in shock, "I love you." You looked down at you lap as your cheeks flushed bright red. Peeking out of the corner of your eye you saw him look at you for a second and then he tilted your chin up. 

Stranger: I'll do what I can. Get everyone else out. -JW

You: Promise me something. SH

Stranger: What? -JW

You: Come out in one piece. SH

Stranger: I'll try. -JW

You: No, promise me. SH

Stranger: I won't make a promise I'm not sure I can keep. -JW

You: Please. SH

Stranger: I promise. -JW

You: Thank you. SH

Stranger: How much time do I have left? -JW

You: Roughly thirteen minutes. SH

Stranger: I've barely gotten half the people out of here. -JW

You: Lestrade should be there soon. SH

Stranger: Where are you? -JW

You: Trying to save your life. SH

Stranger: What? -JW

You: My location is irrelevant. SH

Stranger: Please tell me you are not in the building. -JW

You: Why would you think that? SH

Stranger: Because your an idiot. -JW

Stranger: *you're

You: Someone has to stop him. SH

Stranger: Don't get yourself killed. Promise me that. -JW

You: [No reply]

Stranger: Please, Sherlock. -JW

You: It's my fault your life is in danger. SH

Stranger: You said danger the first day I met you and yet here I am. -JW

You: You shouldn't be. SH

Stranger: I wouldn't want a life without you in it. -JW

You: I wouldn't want one without you. And I'll make sure it doesn't happen. SH

Stranger: Can I tell you something? -JW

You: Of course. SH

Stranger: I love you, Sherlock. -JW

You: I love you too, John. Which is why you can't die today. SH

Stranger: Almost everyone is out. -JW

You: Do you trust me? SH'

Stranger: With my life. -JW

You: Then get out now. SH

Stranger: Just a few more people. -JW

You: Leave them and get out. Now. SH

Stranger: I can't just leave them! -JW

You: You said you trust me. SH

Stranger: Okay. -JW

You: Tell me when you're out. SH

Stranger: Alright. -JW

Stranger: How much time do I have left? -JW

You: Enough if you hurry. SH

Stranger: I'm trying. -JW

You: Run. SH

Stranger: [No Reply]

You: John? SH

You: Damn it, John! SH

You: Answer me! SH

Stranger: I can't get one of the doors open. -JW

Stranger: Something locked it. -JW

You: You have to get out because I don't know if my idea will work. SH

You: Go out a window if you have to. SH

Stranger: There are no windows! -JW

You: Then hide under something sturdy. There isn't time to look for something else. SH

Stranger: Sherlock. I'm scared. -JW

You: Trust me. SH

Stranger: Time? -JW

You: A minute, maybe? SH

You: Are you under something? SH

Stranger: I'm trapped in the stairwell. I can only hide under the stairs. -JW

You: What floor? SH

Stranger: Bottom. -JW

You: I love you. SH

Stranger: I love you too. -JW

You: A loud sound echoed throughout the building as the bomb went off, somehow confined to only part of the building. Flames leaped up, burning the destroyed half of the building and starting to spread to the barely damaged portion. Firetrucks worked quickly on the fire outside as officers and firemen broke doors down to pull the rest of the people out. Several firemen broke into the stairwell where John was, providing him with an oxygen mask against the black smoke that was filtering into the air everywhere.

Stranger: Everything was a blur to John, his heart beating loudly in his ears. He remembered a loud roaring sound, the ground shaking beneath him. Parts of the stair way had crumbled. Everything went black after that. When he came to, the ex-army doctor was in the hospital, bright white walls blinding him. His head felt like it was full of cotton, a sharp pain in his skull. Memories flooded back to him. Sherlock's texts, the bomb, evacuating the building, begging for God to let him live once more. A heavy sigh left his lips. At least he was alive.

You: There was a loud commotion outside John's room and suddenly his door flew open. Sherlock stumbled in and shut the door behind him, shaking from the effort of being upright. He swallowed and glanced at the door before leaning on his IV stand as he crossed the small room to collapse into the chair by John's bed. He itched at where his IV went into his arm, wincing as it brushed across bruises. He was covered in bruises and some burn marks, obviously in pain but trying to ignore it.

Stranger: With wide eyes, John stared at the detective, all battered and bruised. "What happened to you?" As soon as the words left his mouth, something seemed off. It didn't sound right in his ears, almost like he was underwater. He watched Sherlock's lips move but nothing reached his ears. Tentatively, he raised a trembling hand to his ear, mouth agape, heart beating a mile a minute. "I can't hear you."

You: Sherlock hesitated before answering, trying to catch his breath. "My plan worked," he answered vaguely, his brow furrowing as he watched John. He struggled to pull the chair closer to John's bed, wincing, before he settled back down. He rested his arms on John's bed, concerned eyes moving over John's face. "You were the second closest to the bomb," he answered slowly, hoping John could read his lips.

Stranger: At first John was scared, worrying about how he would deal with his loss of hearing. That fear quickly turned into depression as he watched Sherlock's lips move once more. Already he missed the detective's voice. It was one of the many things he loved about the younger man. No he would never be able to hear it again. It felt as if his heart was lodged in his throat, choking him. He tried to be strong, not let Sherlock know how badly it was affecting him. Reaching out, he grabbed the brunettes hand.

You: Sherlock watched the emotions flash across his friend's- were they still friends?- face.He sighed, pain showing on his own face for just a brief moment. He tensed in surprise and looked down at their hands, squeezing John's gently. "It might not last," he said quietly, trying to see any sign of recognition on John's face. "It's only been a day," he paused and swallowed, shifting his hand slightly in John's. "I love you."

Stranger: John watched Sherlock's lips move with an intense gaze, trying to read them. He didn't understand the first part but the last words he could tell clear as day. A smile tugged at his lips, gently raising their joined hands, pressing a kiss against the back of Sherlock's. "I love you too." It was true. If anything, John was glad he had said that to him before all this happened.

You: Sherlock felt a small smile form on his lips and his thumb absently rubbed John's hand once they were settled back to the bed. His brow furrowed slightly and he looked around before grabbing a pen and paper and slipping his hand from John's to write quickly in his scribbly handwriting. "It might not last. It's only been a day. I love you," he repeated on paper, smiling at writing the last part again.

Stranger: John read it quickly, deciding to write his response as well. He had heard those who were deaf speak before. Despite living his life hearing his own voice, it would just save time if he wrote it down. It may seem right to him but come out completely different. "I think it might be permanent. I was far too close to the bomb when it went off. That and I think some pieces of rubble hit me. I've treated enough deaf people to realize when it is permanent or not. I love you too. I wish I could hear you say it. I miss your voice already."

You: Sherlock's eyes moved over the paper slowly, far slower than he actually read as he read it numerous times. "I was closer," he wrote simply and showed it to John before starting to write more. "It can't be permanent. I rely on your hearing as much as you do," his brow furrowed as he wrote, his hand trembling and making his writing that much harder to read. "You'll be okay. You promised you'd come out in one piece."

Stranger: John reached up to his ears, startled to feel gauze stuffed inside. "My ears must have been bleeding." He turned his ears, showing Sherlock his ears. "Even if it's not permanent, I may not be able to hear perfectly ever again. We'll have to learn sign language." He explained, knowing that the detective would master it quickly. That was, if he didn't know it already.

You: Sherlock sighed and glanced to the door. "I'll teach you," he replied after a moment, his lips quirking into a frown as he turned back to look over John and the gauze-filled ears. He raised his hand and rubbed at the bandage wrapped around his head, feeling the still present headache. He hadn't stayed in his room long to enough to hear what his injuries were. "I won't be able to stay much longer."

Stranger: John frowned upon reading his last sentence. Frantically, the doctor wrote out his reply. "See if we can get a room with two beds. I don't want to be alone like this. Call Mycroft, get him to do something about it. Please." Once finished, he held it up, showing Sherlock his response, panic evident on his face.

You: Sherlock swallowed as he read the frantic words, hearing John's voice say them in his head. He simply nodded and reached to grab the hospital phone, wincing at the movement and as the stretch tugged his IV. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath to calm down. "Even if they won't let us, I'll come back," he wrote quickly before dialing his brother's number and waiting.

Stranger: John nodded, hands fidgeting with the edge of his sheets. He didn't like that Sherlock was hurt but there wasn't a thing he could do about it. All he could do was wait. Hopefully they could share a room. This was all frightening and new to him. Having dealt with similar patients before, he knew that having a loved one close by made it all the easier.

You: A scowl passed over Sherlock's face as his brother answer the phone. He kept his explanations and responses short and stiff, for once relieved that Mycroft was aware of everything. He hung up after a few minutes and managed a small, but forced, smile to John. "It's being arranged now," he wrote slowly before handing it to him and closing his eyes.

Stranger: "Thank you. I know you don't like to ask your brother for anything. I just don't want to be alone. I love you." He added that after a moment, hoping it eased the sourness on Sherlock's face. "I love you /very/ much." He underlined very, hoping to put a real smile on the detective's face. "What does this make us?"

Stranger: (brb)

You: Sherlock accepted the paper but didn't open his eyes for a few moments. He smiled slightly as he read the words, his eyes lingering on the underlined word. "I love you too, but I don't know. I've never loved anyone before. Or been in a relationship," he wrote, pausing after every few words.

Stranger: "I've never loved anyone like I love you. We'll make this work. I'll do anything to have you by my side." John wrote out carefully, his writing from before sloppy due to his panic. "We can just be partners for now. Boyfriend and lover just don't seem to fit us."

You: Sherlock started to nod his agreement but stopped and held his head, closing his eyes again. He swallowed and opened his eyes again after a minute. "I'm fine," he wrote in response to the look of concern he saw. "I like partners. Or just us. John and Sherlock."

Stranger: Not wanting to make Sherlock focus on the paper again, he spoke, "Go back to your room. You're in obvious pain. I'll see you when we get put in the same room. Don't fight it. Do this. For /me/." It felt odd to speak. It wasn't pleasant anymore.

You: Sherlock sighed quietly and looked over to John. "I love you," he mouthed, not bothering to use his vocal cords. He took John's hand for a brief moment and squeezed it before pushing himself up with a quiet groan. He gripped his IV stand and glanced at John again before slowly making his way out of the room.

Stranger: (Do you want to do a time skip or keep going like this?)

You: ((Time skip works))

Stranger: ((Out of the hospital?))

You: ((Sure.))

Stranger: It was over a week before the pair returned to Baker Street, wounds all healed. During their stay, John was informed that while his deafness was technically not permanent, there was a slim chance that his hearing would return. In their shared room, the detective taught his doctor some sign language. Not enough to be fluent yet but a good amount to get by on. They occasionally relied on pen and paper, mostly when John was flustered and couldn't think of the proper way to sign. After being fussed over by their land lady, the ex-army doctor headed up stairs, flopping onto the couch.

You: Sherlock followed slowly behind John, one arm wrapped in a sling to stop him from using it and causing more damage as he had during the week long stay. He dropped the bag of prescribed medication on the floor by the coat wrack before making his way over to his chair and lowering himself into it, his eyes watching John carefully.

Stranger: John was just over joyed to be home, back in a place he felt comfortable. He smiled over at the brunette, wriggling about in his seat. 'Do you want some tea?' He signed, that particular sentence being the first that he learned.

You: Sherlock smiled slightly in return, more at John's smooth signing than anything. "That sounds lovely," he signed back after a moment, carefully shifting around in his seat. "I suppose I'll get out our pills," he gestured to the bag, unsure of which words John remembered.

Stranger: 'Don't look so excited.' He teased, laughing soundlessly. Standing, he headed to the kitchen, beginning the task he could do with his eyes closed. It was almost like he was on auto-pilot, the entire process passing in a blur. Adding the sugar and milk that the detective enjoyed, he carried the tea into the sitting room, handing Sherlock his cup.

You: Sherlock smiled a little more and stood after John did. He grabbed the bag and poured out four pills for John, setting them on the coffee table in front of the couch. He poured out three for himself and swallowed them dry before setting the bag on the table and settling into his chair, accepting the tea with a sincere smile. "Thank you."

Stranger: John grimaced as he watched Sherlock dry swallow the pills, sticking out his tongue playfully in disgust. 'That's gross.' He remarked before swallowing his own pills with his tea. 'How are you feeling?' The older man asked.

You: Sherlock gave a small shrug and took a small sip of the hot liquid. He chuckled quietly and absently, but gingerly, rubbed his head. "Sore," he answered after a moment. "But better than a week ago."

Stranger: Standing from his seat, he pressed a quick kiss against Sherlock's lips. It was a spur of the moment decision. Not a day had gone by where they had not said "I love you" to one another. John hadn't initiated anything because they were both injured. Now seemed like a good time.

You: Sherlock looked up at John with a slightly raised eyebrow but smiled. "I love you," he mouthed as he signed the three words, slowly raising a hand to tangle it John's shirt.

Stranger: John bit his lip nervously, "I love you too." He spoke the words. It was only when uttering those words that John actually spoke, very self-conscious about how his voice sounded.

You: Sherlock tugged gently on the older man's shirt, trying to pull him closer. "I love your voice," he signed slowly, spelling the words out with only one hand, refusing to let go of John's shirt with his other.

Stranger: 'I don't know how I sound anymore. I've heard others speak in my situation and they don't sound normal. I don't want to speak unless I have to.' John signed, having paused every moment or two, having trouble.

You: Sherlock slowly stood up and pulled John up against him. "Then only speak when we're alone. I always know what you're trying to say and I'll help. I have to do something," he signed, spelling out the words he knew John didn't know yet.

Stranger: He nodded, trying to figure out what Sherlock was going to do. Had he gone too far with the kiss? Was it still too early in their relationship for intimate contact? These thoughts and ones very similar ran through his head.

You: Sherlock watched John's thoughts practically flicker across his face. "I liked the kiss," he finally signed with a sincere smile. "I really, really did. It was.. amazing. My first kiss."

Stranger: John had a bewildered look on his face. 'Your first kiss? How is that possible? You are very attractive, it seems impossible.' He tried to express his disbelief with his signing.

You: "I never was interested in anything like that before. It seemed stupid and a waste of time." Sherlock shrugged and glanced back at the cup of coffee. "Until I met you, that is."

Stranger: Smiling, he carefully wrapped his arms around Sherlock's waist, resting his head against the detective's strong chest. At first he tried to hear his heartbeat, but was quickly disheartened when he remembered he couldn't.

You: Sherlock sighed and wrapped his arms around John, resting his head on the sandy hair. Realizing what John was trying to do, he lightly tapped his heartbeat out on John's back, sighing again.

Stranger: The gesture drew a silent laugh from the army doctor. Pulling away, he smiled up at him, a true smile at that. "I love you." John repeated, taking the younger man's hands in his own. "What do you want to do?"

You: Sherlock matched John's smile and loosely intertwined their fingers. "I love you too. So very much," he signed, meeting John's eyes. "Whatever you want. I'm not picky."

Stranger: "Can we go to bed? Maybe...cuddle?" John asked, face flush with embarrassment. "Watch some crap telly and order takeaway, perhaps?" Yes, that seemed like a better decision.

You: Sherlock smiled a little more and nodded. "Your room has the working telly," he said after a moment. "Used mine for an experiment last week," he chuckled quietly. "But I still like the idea."

Stranger: "Sounds like a plan then." He gently began tugging Sherlock towards the stairs, fully intent on leading him to the bedroom. Probably not the best idea to walk backwards. When his heel hit the first step, he tumbled backwards, taking Sherlock with him.

You: Sherlock kept his eyes on the stairs but didn't stop John in time. He reached his arm out and craddled John's head to stop it from hitting the stairs, groaning as they landed on top of each other.

Stranger: "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I hurt your arm didn't I? I didn't mean to." John said in a panic, not wanting Sherlock to be upset with him. The brunette was in enough pain as it was. "I'm sorry. I

Stranger: *I'm sorry."

You: Sherlock carefully got off of John, shaking his head. "I'm fine," he sighed slowly, gently massaging first one hand and then the other with a wince. "Nothing is worse than it was before."

Stranger: "I saw you wince. You're hurt. I'm sorry. Please don't be upset with me." John whimpered, wanting to reach out and help Sherlock but afraid he would cause him more pain.

You: Sherlock took a deep breath and carefully pulled John up into a sitting position on the stairs, leaning them again the wall. "Yeah, I'm hurt," he signed carefully. "But it's not your fault. I'm not upset with you."

Stranger: John shook his head, gasping for air as his emotions threatened to consume him. He's felt so weak since he became deaf. "It is. You were hurt before. I just made it worse." He leaned against the wall as well, fingers toying with the hem of his jumper.

You: Sherlock covered John's hand with one of his own, squeezing it gently, before cupping his face. "Stop it, John," he commanded firmly, but gently. "Come on. Let's get in bed and I'll order takeaway and see if Mrs. Hudson will bring it up for us. Cuddling against you will help."

Stranger: With a nod of his head, he stood from his seat, climbing the stairs. He kept a decent distance from the younger man, not wanting to hurt him anymore than he already had. He felt comfortable once he was in bed, curled up under the blankets. Another wave of depression hit him when he turned on the telly, unable to hear it.

You: Sherlock watched John stand up, his eyes falling closed. He didn't know what to do to help John. He wasn't the doctor. He was the detective who was experiencing emotions for the first time and didn't know how to deal with deaf people. He took a deep breath before going back downstairs and swallowing a pill. He quickly climbed back upstairs and slid into bed beside John, fiddling with the remote until captions showed up.

Stranger: 'I'm sorry for all the depression. It's just....I'm realizing all the things I won't be able to do anymore. I've been ignoring your pain and I'm sorry for that. I never thanked you for practically saving my life. Though it was a stupid thing to do, I'm happy that you did. I'm happier that you are alive. I don't know what I would do with out you." It took John a moment or two to finish signing, sometimes having to spell out the words. It would be time for another lesson soon. 'I love you.'

You: Sherlock watched John carefully, his eyes going between the small weathered hands he knew so well and his face. He shook his head once John finished, but started off simple. "I love you too," he signed before pausing. "You can't help it, I know. My injuries will heal. I've had worse anyway. No matter what happens to me, John, you'll always be more important. Please remember that. "

Stranger: Carefully, John placed his hands on Sherlock's face, bringing their lips together. This kiss lasted longer than the last. He didn't move his lips, just held their mouths together. The last thing he wanted to do was overwhelm the younger man. It was only his second kiss after all. Their relationship would just take time.

You: Sherlock smiled against John's lips and slowly moved his lips against John's, testing it out. He hummed quietly and smiled a little more. "I love you," he mouthed. "I love you so much."

Stranger: Rising to his knees, John kissed him again. Using his new leverage, John deepened the kiss, cradling Sherlock's head in his hands. He moved his lips a bit faster than before but not too much so, allowing the detective to keep up.

You: Sherlock lightly gripped John's shirt with his good hand, silently telling him it was okay, to keep going. He followed John's movements and copied them, forgetting that he needed air.

Stranger: John pulled away for a moment, gasping for air before kissing him again. Playfully, he nipped at Sherlock's lower lip, pulling at it with his teeth.

You: Sherlock took in a gulp of air and opened his eyes to look over John. They fluttered closed again as he gave in to the second kiss, gasping quietly.

Stranger: Regretfully, John moved away, resting his forehead against Sherlock's. He didn't want to go too far. This was new to the younger man, no need to startle him. "Good?"

You: Sherlock took another few deep breaths before nodding slightly. "Wonderful. So wonderful," he answered simply, hoping John could see how much he ment the words.

You: *meant.

Stranger: 'I think that is enough for now. I don't want to rush you. I'll go as slow as you want me too. I love you.' John signed as he sat back onto the bed, knees burning a bit from being in the same position for so long.

You: Sherlock settled back against John again, nodding in agreement. "Thank you," he said sincerely, before sighing and signing the two words.

Stranger: 'We'll get through this, as long as we do it together.' John signed with a smile, 'I love you. I'll tell you that everyday.'

You: Sherlock nodded. "I wouldn't want to be anywhere else," he signed quickly before repeating it slower.

Stranger: ((Mind if I time skipped again?))

You: ((Go for it))

Stranger: It had been a little over two months since the incident, John now fluent in sign language. Sherlock was fully healed as well, going back to the way things were. The ex-army doctor didn't go out on as many cases as he used to. He just didn't feel safe going out there, unable to hear. Their relationship progressed slowly, not getting further than long make out sessions. John was updating his blog, the detective out on another case. He had ordered dinner, hoping Sherlock would be home before it got cold.

You: Sherlock found he didn't enjoy the cases nearly as much as he used to. He continued them because it kept him out of the house and busy, but he missed having John constantly by his side. Especially with their relationship. He always wanted to be near John instead of running around London. He sighed as he pushed open the door to the flat and tiredly trudged in. He hadn't slept in a few days and eaten in more. He gave a small smile to John when he saw him. "I'm going to shower first," he signed slowly.

Stranger: 'Okay.' He signed back setting Sherlock's food in the microwave. The other man was not well, lacking in both the eating and sleeping department. Hopefully tonight would be different. A nice shower, a hot meal, and cuddling in bed. If anything, he might be able to get Sherlock to take a sleeping pill. He waited patiently for him to finish his shower. The blogger missed the detective while he was out.

You: "I love you." Sherlock smiled a little more before turning and heading into the bathroom, leaving the doors open. He showered quickly and then threw on a pair of clean pyjamas with his robe. He tossed his clothes into hamper and rubbed the towel over his hair before slowly walking out to the living room and curling up in the corner of the couch with a quiet sigh. The cases were easier with John around and took less time to solve. He knew he needed to stay home and rest before he came down with something, but didn't know how likely it would happen.

Stranger: John brought Sherlock his food, setting it on the coffee table in front of him. 'Eat. You must be starving.' He told him, setting down on the couch next to the lanky detective. Grabbing the remote, he turned the telly onto a game show, something that would distract him.

You: Sherlock leaned against John and settled the food in his lap, taking a few small bites. "Thank you," he said before taking a few more bites. "How was your day?" Before, it wasn't something he asked often. But now that he wasn't with John all the time, he wanted to make sure his partner was doing okay.

Stranger: 'Good. I updated my blog, read some more of my book, watched some telly. Mrs. Hudson made me lunch today. I think she is still being too careful with me. She acts as if I'm...fragile.' John frowned at the last word. Noticing how little Sherlock had eaten, he pointed to the food. 'Eat more.'

You: Sherlock watched John, smiling at how fluent and smooth his signing was. "You're far from fragile," he told him. "You're one of the bravest men I know, if not the bravest," he obediently took a few more bites. "I miss you on the cases..."{

You: ((Ignore the last symbol that I don't know the name of...))

Stranger: John sat up straighter, deciding to bring up a topic he had avoided for a while. 'I...I was wondering...." He hesitated, nervous about what he was going to ask. 'Do you...do you think we could become more....intimate?' He suddenly changed his mind, 'I mean, I don't want to rush you so feel free to say no. It's all up to you.'

You: ((brb))

Stranger: ((okay))

You: Sherlock paused with the fork halfway to his mouth, his brow creasing in surprise. "How more more intimate?" He asked slowly, reaching out to take one of John's hand for a brief moment. "I'm... open to it..."

Stranger: 'No, never mind, it's too soon. Forget that I brought it up. Finish your dinner and then we will head up to bed.' Internally, the blogger was belittling himself. He stood from the sofa, cleaning up his dishes.

You: Sherlock watched John, his brow furrowing more. He hesitated a moment before setting his food off to the side and standing up. He took a deep breath before following after John, gently turning him around to face him. "I said I was open. I love you, remember," he signed slowly before leaning down to press his lips tenderly to John's. He rarely initiated a kiss or any sign of affection, but hoped that by doing it, John knew how sure he was.

Stranger: John held the kiss for a moment before pushing the younger man away. 'No, Sherlock. I don't want you to do this because you want to make me happy. I know you love me, but I want you to do this because you are ready.' He signed sloppily due to his emotion distress.

You: Sherlock stared at John, pointedly meeting his eyes. "Who says I'm doing this because I want to make you happy? I know you would be happy if I said it was too soon and I wanted to wait. And I know you would be happy if I said I'm ready now. I know you, John, and I am ready." As John signed slower and sloppily, Sherlock signed quickly, his words almost blending together.

Stranger: He mulled over Sherlock's words before heading up towards the bedroom, turning back to look at the other man. "Well? Are you coming or not?" John said, climbing the stairs, waiting for Sherlock to join him.

You: Sherlock raised an eyebrow as John walked away, wondering if he had said something wrong. He relaxed after a moment and followed him with a smile. "I'm coming, I'm coming."

Stranger: John stripped off his jumper and trousers, leaving him clad in only pants and a white t-shirt. Crawling onto the bed, he fidgeted while waiting for Sherlock. It wasn't his first time per say, but it was his first time with a man.

You: Sherlock hurried up the stairs and stopped at the doorway, taking in John's figure on the bed. He smiled, admitting silently to himself that John was attractive. He slowly unbuttoned his shirt and moved into the room, dropping it near John's jumper.

Stranger: 'How would you like to do this? I'm comfortable with either way but I think it would be easier if you took control, went at your own pace. If you want me to top, I can. It's all up to you.' John was giving him complete and total control. He loved Sherlock and would do anything for him.

You: Sherlock took a deep breath as he stepped out of his trousers and sat cross legged on the edge of the bed, facing John. "I want you to top," he answered slowly, taking the time to think about each sign. "I trust you. I love you."

Stranger: John nodded, suddenly nervous as he switched positions with the detective. Taking a deep breath, he crawled on top of him, straddling his hips. "I love you." He whispered, kissing him quickly on the lips before trailing his lips down Sherlock's neck.

You: Sherlock shifted around to get comfortable beneath John. He fell still and leaned his head back, gasping quietly at the feel of John's lips.

Stranger: This bit was similar to being with a woman, lips moving down till he could take a nipple into his mouth, suckling at it.

You: Sherlock gasped a little louder and lightly rested his hands on John's hips, his fingers dipping down into his pants slightly.

Stranger: He felt the movement of Sherlock's body rather than hearing him, fingers moving to the neglected nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger.

You: Sherlock's hand tightened on John's hips and he gasped again, breathing a little heavier. He didn't understand the sensations John's mouth and hand could cause, but he found he enjoyed them and didn't question it.

Stranger: After a few moment, John switched, sucking on the opposite one, pinching the one he just left. He could feel Sherlock grow hard against his stomach. That was definitely a good sign.

You: Sherlock leaned his head forward to rest against John's, pushing his pants down a little more. "G-god," he breathed out, his breath teasing John's hair.

Stranger: Deciding to move along, he kissed his way down Sherlock's stomach, dipping his tongue into the detective's navel. His slipped his fingers beneath Sherlock's pants, sliding them down a bit.

You: Sherlock leaned back slightly to make it easier for John to reach. He let go of a hip to tilt John's head up, supporting himself on his elbows to sign. "I love you and this..." he trailed off, unable to think of the word.

Stranger: This was as far as John's experience could take him as he slipped Sherlock's pants off his long legs. He knew what he liked, it should be simple. Just do the same to Sherlock. Gently, he grasped the detective's length, licking the head.

You: Sherlock moaned in surprise and his elbows gave way. He laid back on the bed, his eyes falling closed at the pleasure.

Stranger: That seemed like a good sign. Tentatively, he took Sherlock into his mouth, swallowing as much as he could. It was...nice.

You: Sherlock's hips rocked up slightly, but not enough to gag John. He moaned again and breathed heavier, lightly tangling a hand in John's hair.

Stranger: John sucked on him for a bit, not going too fast. Sherlock was a virgin and it wouldn't take much for him to tip over the edge. With one more pass, he released Sherlock from his mouth. 'Good?'

You: Sherlock didn't respond at first, his mind shut off by the sensations. He gave a small nod and whimpered at the loss of John's mouth. "Better than good," he signed weakly.

Stranger: 'I have to stretch you now.' He explained, reaching into the bedside table for lubricant. Once he had it, he crawled back between Sherlock's legs, pouring some onto his fingers. With skilled hands, he slowly inched a finger past the tight ring of muscle.

You: Sherlock stretched his legs out and spread them open, leaving plenty of room for John. He arched his back slightly and he blindly groped around until he found John's shoulder. "S-s-slower..." he spelled out slowly.

Stranger: "Sorry." John said, removing his finger to spread some lube over Sherlock's entrance before adding more to his fingers. Slower than before, he relaxed the muscles, feeling them loosen to allow him inside. Once there, he crooked his finger, immediately finding his prostate.

You: Sherlock's back arched again. He relaxed as he grew accustomed to the feel of John's finger inside of him, but suddenly moaned loudly and arched his back more. His hand tightened on John's shoulder as he fell back to the bed with another quieter moan

Stranger: Using the distraction to his advantage, John slipped in another finger, thrusting them in and out, making sure to hit his prostate each and every time. John was incredibly focused, not wanting to hurt him but also not wanting to bring him over the edge.

You: Sherlock felt the added finger, but the pain was dulled by each push against his prostate that brought him closer and closer to the edge. He moaned and gasped with every moment, the feeling overwhelming but amazing.

Stranger: John could tell Sherlock wasn't going to last long so he stopped touching his prostate, scissoring his fingers to stretch the muscle. He did this for several minutes, deciding that was as stretched as Sherlock was going to get. Removing his fingers, he took of his pants, generously coating his length. 'Ready?'

You: Sherlock rocked his hips slightly with the thrusts, his moans quieting down when the assault on his prostate stopped. He opened his eyes at the loss of the fingers, feeling curiously empty. He watched John, his eyes roaming across the scar on John's shoulder and down his chest before shamelessly watching John stroke himself.

Stranger: It was now or never, John thought, positioning himself at Sherlock's entrance. Taking a few deep breaths, he began to push in, leaning down to kiss the younger man in hopes of distracting him from the pain that he would be feeling.

You: Sherlock kissed him back almost desperately, his eyes falling closed as pain and pleasure overwhelmed his body. He knew he wouldn't last long, especially when the edge was this close with the pain and pleasure mixed.

Stranger: Once he was all the way in, he waited, allowing time for Sherlock to adjust. John looked into his eyes, forehead resting against one another. 'Ready?' He mouthed, waiting for his approval.

You: Sherlock managed a deep breath, tilting his head to press a soft kiss to John's lips. "Yeah," he mouthed in return, shifting his hips slightly as he adjusted to John.

Stranger: Initially, John moved at a snails pace, thrusting in and out very slowly. However, it became not enough very quickly. Soon, he was thrusting at a decent pace, reaching down to stroke Sherlock's length in the same rhythm.

You: Sherlock felt each thrust and stroke as the pain faded to be replaced with pure pleasure. He moaned loudly at every brush against his prostate, nearly panting and feeling so close to the edge.

Stranger: Seeing Sherlock's mouth open, face contorted into one of pleasure, John began thrusting faster. His eyes fell closed, he himself overwhelmed with pleasure.

You: Sherlock moaned louder and tumbled over the edge after only a few more thrusts and strokes, panting John's name as his back arched.

Stranger: John wasn't far behind, mouth open in a silent moan as he released inside of him. He panted heavily, opening his eyes slowly. It wasn't until he looked down that he realized Sherlock had come. He couldn't hear him. A wave of depression crashed onto him as he pulled out, kissing Sherlock's lips gently. "Go to sleep."

You: Sherlock's eyes fluttered closed as he collapsed back to the bed, still panting quietly. He smiled slightly against John's lips and nodded. "Alright," he mumbled without losing the contact, unaware of the depression that had settled over John.

Stranger: He moved away from the sated man, grabbing his pants from the floor and slipping them on. He just needed a moment or two. Sherlock was happy and John didn't wish to upset him. Silently, he moved into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Inside, he sat on the lid of the toilet. It started out with deep breaths, which quickly turned to hyperventilation, and finally ended in tears. John hadn't cried since the day of the incident, before he found out he was deaf. This was the final straw. He couldn't hold it back anymore.

You: Sherlock felt the bed shift with John's weight, but his brow furrowed slightly when it disappeared instead of settling next to him. He rubbed his eyes and slowly sat up as his breathing calmed, glancing around. His brow furrowed more as he wondered if he had done something wrong. He swallowed and rubbed his eyes again. "John?" He called quietly, before sighing and grabbing a sheet off John's bed. Confused, he wrapped it around himself and slowly made his way downstairs, thinking it was John's way of saying that it had been a mistake.

Stranger: John was completely distraught, head in his hands as he sobbed quietly. He never realized how he took his hearing for granted before. All the things he would never get to hear. Sherlock laughing. Sherlock talking. Sherlock's deductions. Sherlock moaning. Sherlock saying his name. The worst was realizing he would never hear Sherlock say, 'I love you.' The thought only made him feel worse.

You: Sherlock curled up on the couch with the sheet tightly wrapped around him. He pulled his legs up to his chest and wrapped his arms around him, the dried come still covering his chest. He didn't care and barely noticed it as his brow remained deeply furrowed. He couldn't figure out what he could have done and it bothered him. He swallowed and rubbed his eyes before kicking the food away from him in childish annoyance. The contained fell to the floor, spilling the food everywhere, but he left it.

Stranger: The more John cried, the more noise he began to make, his silent sobs becoming ones of great volume. Sherlock was upstairs asleep, he wouldn't hear him. He just needed to get this out of his system. When he finished, he would go up stairs, crawl in next to him and pretend like everything was okay. That was what Sherlock deserved.

You: Downstairs, Sherlock didn't hear John's sobs. He stared at the wall for a few minutes before slipping into his mind palace, desperate to see if he had any helpful knowledge so he could know if he had done something wrong. He tried so hard to keep John happy. The army doctor was the most important thing in his life.

Stranger: Finally, after calming down, John wiped away his tears. Standing, he checked himself over in the mirror. Sure his eyes were red but Sherlock was sleeping. Or so he thought. Returning to the bedroom, he was surprised to find Sherlock gone. Carefully, he headed down stairs, finding Sherlock on the couch. 'Are you okay?" He signed.

You: Sherlock didn't notice John come downstairs or him signing, searching through every piece of information he had memorized for absolutely anything that could be helpful. He found nothing, but continued looking, worried John would leave if he messed up.

Stranger: Not receiving a response, he moved closer. "Sherlock." He said, hoping his voice would drag him out of whatever trance he was in. John could tell by the look in his eyes that Sherlock was in his mind palace. "Sherlock." He repeated, just for good measure.

You: Sherlock rubbed at his eyes and mumbled incoherently as he was drawn out of mind by John's voice. He was annoyed that he hadn't found anything helpful. He let out a breath and hesitated before looking over to John. "Yes?"

Stranger: 'Are you okay? What are you doing downstairs?' John asked, slightly worried about the man before him. 'Are you feeling okay?;

You: Sherlock's eyes slowly moved over John's face and his brow furrowed again. "You... you left," he replied slowly, swallowing down the confusion.

Stranger: 'I just needed to use the loo.' John lied, trying to wave it off as nothing. 'You were sleeping. I didn't want to wake you.'

You: Sherlock shook his head. "Don't lie to me, John," he said, his hands movements swift and precise.

Stranger: John furrowed his brow in mock confusion, 'I'm not lying. I really had to use the loo. What is wrong with you?'

You: Sherlock looked away, his hands falling to his lap. He shook his head and sighed, not sure of what to say.

Stranger: "Sherlock." John whispered, "Have I upset you?" He was trying so hard, what did it have to be so difficult?

You: Sherlock didn't look at John, too many emotions running through him and none of them making sense. He remained silent, his hands absently tugging on the sheet.

Stranger: Sherlock's lack of response was threatening to pull all of his emotions back to the surface. No, he wouldn't break down in front of him. "Please say something."

You: Sherlock hesitated before slowly looking over at John, his mouth open but no words coming out. "Like what?" He said verbally as his hands signed them for John.

Stranger: 'Are you mad at me? Did I do something wrong? Was it not good for you? I'm sorry, I shouldn't have pushed you. This is all my fault.' John signed but it fell apart towards the end.

You: Sherlock tugged his legs closer and shook his head slightly. "You left," he repeated simply. "I thought /I/ did something wrong. I'm not..." He shook his head again. "I'm not good with emotions and now it feels like every one is running through my head and it is your fault. But I thought you would stay there to help me figure them out," his hands fell still, trembling slightly in his lap.

Stranger: John paced about at this, hands fisting tightly in his hair. "This is all my fault. I've ruined everything." He muttered, leaning against the wall and collapsing onto the floor. He had promised he wouldn't break in front of him, but it was a promise he couldn't keep. "Please. Please don't leave me." John begged, tears falling freely down his face.

You: Sherlock tensed as he watched John. He shook his head quickly, signing and speaking incoherently. He stopped and closed his eyes, his legs falling down off the couch. He stared at John, his mouth parted open. He didn't know what to say, how to express what he was feeling. It had been hard enough for him to confess to loving John, but it had been a single emotion. This was numerous ones; hurt, fear, love, pain and he didn't understand any of them or what to do.

Stranger: "I left...because I couldn't hear you. I miss hearing your voice so much and...the more time that passes, the more I realize that...that I won't ever hear it again. I didn't want you to see how much it was hurting me. I just wanted you to be happy. I left so you wouldn't have to see." He gasped for air, sobbing harder than before, "I'm so, so sorry."

You: Sherlock felt even more confused when he realized his cheeks were wet with his own tears. He swallowed around the lump of emotion in his throat and stepped over the food on the floor to kneel a few feet from John, watching him carefully. "John..." He moved forward slightly and hesitated before taking John's hand, giving him plenty of opportunity to let go.

Stranger: John didn't pass up the invitation, throwing his arms around Sherlock, burying his face into the detective's neck. "I'm sorry I wasn't there to help you. I was being selfish, as usual. Please...please don't leave me. I'll do whatever you want."

You: Sherlock fell back against the wall with the force of John, but he tightly wrapped his arms around him and held him close. "I love you," he mumbled over and over, despite knowing John couldn't hear him. After a few minutes, he pushed John away so he could see him. "I could never leave you. Ever. It will never happen because I need you."

Stranger: John sniffled, wiping away the tears from his eyes. 'How could you need me? I'm defective.' John signed sadly. In his eyes, Sherlock was perfect. Everything about him was perfect. Before the accident, John wasn't too fond of himself. Now, he practically hated himself. He didn't deserve someone like Sherlock and the detective could do so much better than him.

You: Sherlock pushed John away a little more and let the blanket fall to reveal his chest and arms. "I'm just as defective as you are," he responded quickly before slowly pointing out each scar that his arms. "You're not defective anyway. You're perfectly functional and I love you."

Stranger: 'I'm sorry that I left. I-I just couldn't take it anymore. I had been holding it in for so long...' He had wanted to say more but it was too hard to describe, his hands falling into his lap.

You: Sherlock took a deep breath and kissed John softly. "I know and I'm sorry. I was worried that I had done something wrong to make you leave. I'm scared you'll leave me."

Stranger: 'I would never leave you. You're all I have. The only one who understands me. I love you. I love you so much that just the thought of being away from you hurts me.' John replied, letting a hand caress Sherlock's cheek.

You: Sherlock shifted around and managed to tug John up into his lap. He wrapped his arms around him again and held him close. "I love you," he signed quickly before dropping one hand and letting the other absently rub John's back.

Stranger: ((I HATE to leave but unfortunately I have to get up early in the morning. This was so good. Too many feels.))

You: ((Awww! This was very lovely... angsty, but lovely))

Stranger: ((Angsty to the extreme. Do you have a tumblr by any chance?))

You: ((I do! It's downtonmudblood)

You: ((I've never done deaf John before and I loved it))

Stranger: ((It was my first time as well and I'm found of it. Mine is HikoriStickz))

You: ((Following you now))

Stranger: ((Followed you.))

Stranger: ((Well, I must be off but if you ever wish to rp again just give me a ring. I would love to continue this.))

You: ((Will do!))

Stranger: ((Have a lovely day! Ciao!))