Fandom: Sherlock (BBC)
Characters: Sherlock/Jim, Mrs. Hudson and John
Summary: Jim comes back
An: Also here at AO3
Sherlock was flat on his back on a large bed covered in red silk. Moonlight streamed through a window illuminating the scene before him.
He looked down at Jim. He was between Sherlock's legs and his mouth was wrapped around Sherlock cock. Sherlock groaned as Jim took him deeper and deeper. Suddenly, Sherlock came. Jim released Sherlock's cock and moved up Sherlock's body. He nuzzled Sherlock's neck and Sherlock rubbed his skin.
'You like that?' Jim asked.
For some reason Sherlock could not remember it was a horrible question. A question that he never got to answer.
Jim lifted his head and was about to brush his lips against Sherlock's...
...Suddenly, Sherlock woke up. He was gasping and panting. Jim might be gone, but he certainly wasn't forgotten.
He laid back onto his bed and tried to calm himself. It wasn't the first time he had had a sexual dream about Jim, but since Jim's death the dreams had become more frequent. If it had been just sex it wouldn't be a problem. He had had very few sexual urges, but it was the closeness that bothered him.
Jim had never held him in real life, the closest was a hand shake just before The Event, but his brain wanted closeness now that there would never be any.
He felt a dampness between his legs and it didn't take the world's greatest detective (which he was) to realise that he had come in his sleep.
He got up and made his way to the bathroom. He shivered as he took off his clothes and got into the shower. As he stood under the spray, he thought about Jim.
Jim wasn't the first criminal Sherlock dealt with, but he was certainly the best. No one excited Sherlock the way he did. It wasn't Sherlock's fault that his obsession with Jim would turn to something sexual when he was asleep.
Sherlock quickly washed himself and stepped out of the shower. He looked at himself in the bathroom mirror. His eyes had dark bags under them and his skin was pale and his cheeks bone were very pronounced.
He saw his blue veins standing out against his pale skin of his arms and thought about getting high so he could at least see Jim whilst awake, but Rosie was coming for a visit tomorrow and Mary would kill him (literally) if he was high around Rosie.
He quickly threw some clothes on.
He wandered around his flat, picking up and setting down various projects. He wanted nothing more than to do something... anything... but he could feel boredom crashing against him like waves of a restless ocean.
'Fuck it!' He explained as he put on his coat and scarf and headed out the door.
He walk around the city past drab buildings and boring ordinary people until he came to a familiar iron gate. The iron bars curved and twisted. He pushed the gate open and it creaked and groaned.
The cemetery were full of tombstones and green grass. He walked past a man who was laying flowers on his wife's grave while a women who was obviously his mistress looked on.
Walking past rows and rows of tombstones, he came to the one he wanted and stood in front of it.
Jim's tombstone was simple and unadorned. The sun was shinning and the breeze was warm. As he looked at the tombstone, he thought that it would be more fitting if the sky was grey.
He didn't believe in God, he believed in what he could see and feel, but if he did he would want Jim to be resurrected. The boredom was crushing and he could almost feel his brain dying from disuse.
Jim had been a drug that wormed his way into Sherlock's system. A drug that had given Sherlock the best high, but a drug never the less.
As he stared at the tombstone, someone came up beside him and stood next to him.
'Miss me?' A familiar voice asked.
Sherlock hadn't gotten high in a while, but he must be high because the spectre of Jim stood next to him.
'Go away,' Sherlock said. Now was not the time for hallucinations.
'Oh, honey. You don't mean that.'
'I do. You are merely a figment of my imagination.'
'Jim' grabbed Sherlock's shoulders and turned him to face Jim. He looked into Sherlock's eyes and grinned.
'Oh, really? What would you do if I kissed you?'
Sherlock thought about it. No matter how real 'Jim' was, that had never kissed. No matter how much Sherlock wanted it, they never even kissed in real life either.
He moved close and brushed his lips against Jim's cheeks. He catalogued everything. Jim's skin was warm and smelt like lemon scented soap.
'Jim' moved his head and their lips met. His lips were rough and chapped, but Sherlock couldn't get enough. He pulled Jim close and revelled in the way Jim kissed back with vigour.
Sherlock deepened the kiss and groaned as Jim gripped his shoulders. Sherlock felt rain drops hit him, but didn't care.
Jim's tongue brushed against Sherlock's lips and he opened his mouth and their tongues brushed against each other.
Jim broke the kiss and Sherlock whimpered. 'Do you still think I'm imaginary?'
Sherlock didn't trust himself to speak, Jim affected him in many ways, so he shook his head. He looked up and saw that the sky had suddenly turned grey and it was starting to rain.
'Good, now that I have you I'm not letting you go.'
If anyone would have said that, he would have rebelled, but it didn't sound so bad coming from Jim.
As they left the cemetery, the rain came down fast, soaking them. Everything happened quickly. They drove to Sherlock's flat. Sherlock registered very little of the trip except for Jim's hand on his knee.
They made their way to Sherlock's flat and Mrs. Hudson came up to meet them.
'Oh, Sherlock! Who's your 'friend'? She said with a big grin.
Jim took Mrs. Hudson's hand and held it. 'It is a pleasure to meet you. Sherlock has told me so much about you. My name is Richard.'
'Have you been 'friends' long?'
'Not long but I hope to be spending more time with him,' Jim said with a wink.
They spoke for several minutes and Sherlock watched as 'Richard' charmed Mrs. Hudson.
Once inside the flat, they grabbed at each other and clothes fell to the floor as they made their way to Sherlock's bedroom.
Jim's skin was pale and his body was all lean muscles. Sherlock ran his hand up and down Jim's body as Jim did the same. Jim had several faded scars on his chest that pointed to an abusive childhood. Sherlock kissed Jim's scars.
Sherlock looked at Jim's bright green pants. 'You're wearing the pants that Jim from IT had worn?'
'Of course I thought if anyone would appreciate that it would be you.'
Sherlock kissed and licked at Jim's shoulder and tasted salty skin.
Jim grinned. 'You like me, huh?'
Sherlock looked up at Jim. 'I thought that was obvious?'
'Nope. Lust and like are two different things.'
'What would you do if I said it was just lust?'
'I would woo you with the greatest crime spree ever.'
Sherlock kissed Jim cheek and whispered into his ear, 'It's more than lust. So much more, but I would like a crime spree.'
'Anything for you. Maybe for your birthday.'
Sherlock had spent his life cataloguing and defining everything, but he couldn't define his feelings for Jim. He felt more than lust.
'In that case, would you take a nap with me? You look like death.'
They got into his bed and Jim pulled Sherlock close as they laid down. A clap of thunder shook the room.
Sherlock rested his head on Jim's chest and let Jim's heartbeat lull him to sleep.
He might not believe in God, but he believed in Jim.
The next morning, Sherlock woke up in Jim's embrace. Jim was so warm and heavy that Sherlock didn't want to move. It was 6:30 in the morning which meant that Sherlock had slept twelve hours. He couldn't remember the last time he had slept more than six hours, but he had to admit he felt better.
Instead of feeling bored and slow, his mind felt clear and he was full of ideas. It might have been because of the large amount of sleep, but he thought it might have more to do with Jim.
He rubbed Jim's back and his skin was warm and soft.
Soon, Jim stirred and he looked up at Sherlock. His hair was a mess and he reminded Sherlock of Richard Brook. 'Morning. Welcome back to the land of the living.'
He continued to rub Jim's back and grinned. 'I didn't realise I was dead?'
'You were without me, but I'm back now.'
That reminded Sherlock of something. 'How did you survive?'
Now, it was Jim's turn to grin. 'You mean I was able to fool the great Sherlock Holmes? Lucky me. I...'
'What the hell?!' John exclaimed from the doorway.
Sherlock's eyes went wide and John moved to the foot of the bed.
'Hello, Jonny-boy,' Jim said as he nuzzled into Sherlock's neck.
'Get away from him! Sherlock what drug did he give you? What did he do?'
Jim got out of the bed and faced John. Sherlock should be concerned that John was upset, but he only wanted Jim's touch.
'First off, I should be offended that you think I would drug him, but it wouldn't be the first time I drugged someone. I didn't by the way. He willingly let me into his bed, now if you'll excuse me I have to get dressed.'
Jim left the room and John instantly went over to Sherlock and knelt down looking into his eyes.
'What did he do?'
'Nothing. I wanted him here.'
'Are you sure he didn't drug you? You don't know what you're saying.'
'I understand your concern, but I can assure you that he didn't drug me or force me to do anything.'
'Now what? Do we turn him in to your brother?'
'Oh, god. No.'
'I hope you know what you're doing. He's killed people. Are you sure he won't kill you?'
'Correction I've had people killed and if I wanted Sherlock dead, he'd be dead by now,' Jim said from the doorway.
John stood up to his full height and poked Jim in the chest. 'I'm only going to say this once, if you hurt Sherlock in any way I will track you down and kill you in the slowest most painful way possible.'
Jim grinned. 'Sounds like a plan.'
Jim walked over to Sherlock. He was fully dressed and Sherlock's scarf was wrapped around his neck. 'See you later, Honey. Daddy has work to do.'
Jim kissed Sherlock and then left.
John's shoulders sagged. 'I hope you know that this is beyond fucked up. He tried to kill both of us.'
Sherlock just nodded. No ever said that his life wasn't fucked up even before Jim came back. At least now maybe Mrs. Hudson wouldn't think that Sherlock and John were dating.
Days later, Sherlock walked into his flat and felt a different kind of high, he had solved a rather difficult case (thanks to Jim) and felt energized. He knew he had missed Jim's particular flare for crime, but he hadn't realized how much.
His cock was half-hard and that was perfectly normal after a case and he knew what he had to do. He pulled off his clothes and hissed as cool air touched his cock and made his way to his bedroom. He settled down on his bed, got a tube of lube and squeezed the cool gel onto his hand and slid his hand over his cock. He wrapped his hand around his cock and began to stroke it. After a few strokes, he heard familiar foot steps and grinned as Jim walked into his room.
'Oh my. Are you putting on a show for me?' Jim asked as he walked close to Sherlocks bed.
'Do you want a show or would you rather participate?'
Jim started removing his clothes. 'Oh, the dirty dirty things I'm going to do to you.'
Once Jim was naked, he moved to Sherlock's bed and fell on top of Sherlock.
He started by kissing Sherlock's neck. Sherlock groaned as Jim moved and licked and sucked Sherlock's nipple.
Sherlock gripped Jim's shoulder as Jim kept licking and sucking.
'Oh, fuck!' Sherlock exclaimed as Jim nipped at the nipple.
'You like that,' Jim said as he looked up at Sherlock. It was a statement not a question.
Jim moved down Sherlock's body and Sherlock's hips bucked up as Jim wrapped his lips around Sherlock's hard cock and sucked.
Sherlock gripped the sheets until his knuckles were white and Jim took more and more of the cock shaft into his mouth.
As Jim's head bobbed up and down, Sherlock tried to keep himself from coming. He didn't want the sensation of Jim's wet warm mouth around his cock to end, but he knew it would.
Jim back off Sherlock's cock and then licked at Sherlock's balls. After a few licks, he moved back to Sherlock's cock and took it deep into his mouth.
Sherlock shouted as he came in Jim's mouth.
Once he came down from his orgasm, he noticed that Jim was straddling his hips and he watched as Jim stroked his hard cock. His cock was thinner and longer than Sherlock's own, the tip was a dark red and his balls were covered with dark hair.
Jim threw his head back and came, splattering come onto Sherlock's stomach. Sherlock reached for Jim and he fell on top of Sherlock.
'Was it good for you?' Jim asked jokingly.
'Of course. I assume you enjoyed yourself as well.'
'Yeah,' Jim said as he nuzzled into Sherlock's neck.
Sherlock just held Jim as they both drifted in and out of sleep.
The next day, Sherlock came home to fine 'Richard' sitting at the kitchen table with Mrs. Hudson.
'Oh, Sherlock, Richard and I were just swapping recipes. I really want to try his cherry pie.'
'Oh, really,' Sherlock said as he made his way to 'Richard' and kissed his cheek.
'He said he wanted to make you my famous angel food cake. He is so good to you, you're very lucky.'
Sherlock just grinned, he couldn't help but agree. Not only had he found his mortal enemy, but he had also found someone who could excite him and keep the boredom away.