One More Time (With Feeling)
"Are you sure?" Sherlock eyed the familiar street with wonder.
"Completely sure." The man behind him in the big blue box smiled. He was leaning over Sherlock's shoulder, trying to get a peek ... "This the moment?" he asked, grinning wider.
"This was ... this was it," Sherlock stammered. His feet betrayed him, already eagerly stepping out of the box and onto the cobblestone pavement.
He made it two steps towards Angelo's before the thought struck him. "What if he doesnt-?"
"-Want you?!" The man mocked incredulity, shaking his head, "trust me ... you're irresistible." Then he shut the doors of the Tardis, and Sherlock had to move or risk being seen.
He took a deep breath, then heard the whir of the machine disappearing behind him.
This was it.
.
Sherlock straightened his suit jacket, running his fingers through his messy curls and ... decided to take the jacket off and make himself appear as much like his younger self as possible.
Next ... he shot a text to himself. Waiting until that Sherlock was out of the way in the loos, he stole into the same seat beside John.
"So ... you have a girlfriend?" John was just asking.
Perfect timing.
. ... God, how much he had missed this John!
. eager, and open, and .... waiting ... ?
.
"Not really my area." he answered, swallowing his fears.
He feigned interest out the window, keeping his minds-eye firmly fixed on John. Trying to capture and record every minute detail of this precious moment.
"Oh," John took a bite, and then looked up again quickly, "Oh? You ... have a boyfriend, then?"
Sherlock's eyes flitted towards John's despite his best efforts.
"Which is fine, of course!" John hurried to add.
"Of course it's fine," Sherlock answered, suddenly needing water. He took a deep drink and caught his eyes drifting back to meet John's.
"So you have a boyfriend?" John asked.
Hurried pulse. Short breaths.
John had even licked at his lips when he spoke, like he was nervous ... afraid to ask? ... how had he not noticed before ... ?
"Nope," Sherlock replied, deepening his voice to a purr. The effect was not lost on John ...
Dilated eyes.
. Cheeks turning rosy.
. Slight shift in his seat ...
"Not unless ... you are applying for the job?" Sherlock asked unconcerned, unbuttoning the top button of his shirt.
John was watching his neck ... his pulse. Licking his lips again. His breathing hitched. Heavy.
This was hardly a fair game.
.
"Maybe we should go?" he asked, extending his hand.
Suddenly John rose with him.
Then hesitated.
"Did we need to-" John looked out the window, "... your murderer?" he asked, genuinely concerned they would let a criminal roam free if they left? It was adorable.
"Oh ... just passing the time," Sherlock reassured him with a dismissing wave of his hand, "it was a long-shot he would appear." Then ... as much as he wanted to stay and enjoy what followed ...
. Decided ...
He'd better go tell his younger, idiotic self .... the chances he was throwing away if he did not continue.
He would be understanding.
"Let me settle the bill," he lied, excusing himself to see John eagerly already out the door pacing back and forth with a smile on his face.
(psst! ... more is beneath cut!) - Liri