Only your touch
Summary
While waking up from a nap, Sherlock realises that John's touch is the only one he truly accepts, and the only one that makes him feel safe.
Note
This is my first attempt at writing Johnlock, and of course it's soft and fluffy!
On AO3
469 words - Rating G
The world came back to Sherlock in successive waves.
First came the familiar smell of their apartment, then John's familiar scent, followed by the sounds from the street outside and John's soft humming. Finally came the physical sensations.
He could feel the worn, familiar leather of the sofa beneath him. He could feel the steady warmth of John’s thigh against which his head was resting. Finally, he could feel John’s hands: one resting motionless on his hip, and the other tangled in his hair, gently caressing him.
No one ever touched Sherlock the way John did.
In fact, he wouldn’t let anyone but John touch him that way.
It was far too intimate. It required far too much trust. It laid him bare, making him far too vulnerable.
With anyone else, physical contact felt like an unwanted intrusion, but with John, it was different. There was no disgust, no reluctance.
John had seen the worst of him. He had seen the darkest parts of Sherlock, and yet he stayed.
And yet he continued to touch Sherlock as if he were a precious being, a cherished one. John’s touch radiated warmth and comfort. Love.
It was a quiet, unassuming love that needed no words because John knew him so well.
The true power of John’s touch lay in its ability to silence Sherlock’s mind, if only temporarily. The gears of his mind simply came to a halt for a moment, simply because of John’s caring touch.
“Alright, there?”
John’s voice didn’t startle Sherlock out of his thoughts, but gently pulled him back to the present, while John’s hand continued to stroke Sherlock’s hair gently and soothingly, in a way that could almost have made Sherlock purr.
He raised his hand, his long, pale fingers finding the hand resting in his hair. With infinite tenderness, Sherlock took John's hand and brought it to his lips, kissing his knuckles gently.
Then, murmuring against the warm skin, he said, "More than all right, my dear."
After pressing one last lingering kiss on John’s hand, he gently returned it to his hair.
John chuckled softly. “Does that mean I should keep going?”
"If you're amenable," Sherlock replied, his voice taking on a rare note of vulnerability.
John didn’t respond with words right away. Instead, he shifted slightly, leaned forward, and pressed a tender, lingering kiss on Sherlock’s temple.
"I'm absolutely amenable, even more so if it makes you feel good,"John said fondly.
“It does, my dear John. I assure you it does.”
“Then I’ll keep going.”
John resumed stroking Sherlock’s hair gently with one hand, tracing slow, leisurely circles across his hip with the other.
Overcome with absolute contentment, Sherlock drifted back to sleep. He surrendered completely to the darkness, knowing in his very soul that he was safe in his beloved’s touch.
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Still not beta'd (my own choice)
Still not my native language
Still hoping you'll enjoy this story 🥰
Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝
