A Chance To Stay Alive - Johnlock

29) A Little Night Dancing

It was already sunset by the time that everyone had left 221b, the lazy sun casting an orange glow upon the flat as Sherlock lay curled up in his armchair, wrapped in a blanket with his eyes closed. John had apparently left to the shops to buy some more milk - leaving the curly-haired boy by himself in the apartment. Reluctantly, he got to his feet, sliding off his blanket and pulling on a pair of slippers, before making his way into the bathroom. Sherlock managed to stifle a small yawn before closing the door behind him and gazing up at himself in the mirror. At once, his heart sank slightly as he recognised his reflection - it had changed so much during the last months. His figure was skeletally thin whilst his skin was ghostly pale. The curly-haired boy continued to stare at himself for a moment before he felt the first, salty tear dribble down his cheek. He stood there for a moment, trembling on the spot before he felt a pair of soft hands wrap around his waist.

"John," Sherlock whispered, his eyes widening in slight realisation. The blonde boy said nothing for a moment, his hands still continuing to slip around his hips.
"It's fine," John promised him, his voice smooth and alluring.
"Say nothing."
Slowly, he proceeded to spin Sherlock around on his heels so that his back was turned against the mirror, his eyes staring directly into John's.
"I found some of your old shoes behind the bed this morning," John whispered, resting his head upon the curly-haired boy's chest.
"I never knew you did ballet."
The bathroom was silent for a moment before eventually Sherlock gave a small, relaxed chuckle.
"My college years," he explained warmly, holding also to John's waist.
"Well come on then posh boy, show me what you've got," the blonde boy hummed, raising an eyebrow in curiosity.
A small smile began to creep onto Sherlock's face as he outstretched an arm, his fingers intertwined with John's as they stepped into the living-room, gazing intently into each-other's eyes.

For a few minutes the flat was filled with silence as the two boys twirled around the room, John's head resting against Sherlock's chest as their hands slipped into each-others. Neither of them dared speak, they didn't want to end this perfect moment. They danced their way around the little room for a small while longer, continuing as the sun began to finally set outside, revealing a vast blanket of stars covering the darkened sky.
"Sherlock," the blonde boy's voice suddenly piped up, causing Sherlock to slow to a halt, gazing down upon him.
"Is everything going to be back to normal now?"
Surprised by this question, the curly-haired boy opened his mouth to say something before cracking a small smile.
"John Watson, when has anything ever been normal in 221b Baker Street?" He asked with a small chuckle - thankfully causing John to also laugh along too.
"Now...shall we continue?"
Sherlock slowly outstretched his arm and with a gleeful nod, John took it.
"Of course, pretty boy," the blonde boy cooed, perching up on his tip-toes and leaning in to plant a long kiss on the boy's cheek.

The next dance was a lot more quick-paced than the previous one. The flat was now filled with the warm, orange glow of the lamps as Sherlock and John  danced carelessly around the room, broad smiles across their faces as they did so. It wasn't long before Mrs Hudson finally appeared at the door, her hands on her hips and a vast look of surprise on her face.
"Boys!" She exclaimed suddenly, causing the two to stop and glance over at her, an awkward grin on both of their faces.
The land-lady gave a small giggle before placing down a tray of teacups besides them.
"I missed this place without you Sherlock."
She gave a small, reassuring smile before leaving the room, closing the door gently behind her and leaving Sherlock and John on their own.
The dancing continued for another half hour, and by the end of it both boys were exhausted. John crashed down onto the sofa, shortly followed by Sherlock as he reaches for the blanket, pulling it over them.
"Tea?" The curly-haired boy asked, passing his boyfriend a mug before getting himself one.
"Thanks," John muttered, managing to stifle a yawn as he rested his head back against one of the many pillows lasted out on the sofa.

"John..." Sherlock mumbled all of a sudden, his voice weak and tired.
"Yes Sherlock?" The blonde boy replied with a smile, stroking through his boyfriend's mop of curls.
"I do like you ya know, I really do like you."
John chuckled for a moment as he quickly shook his head.
"Well that's a relief," he joked, biting his lip and hugging tightly to Sherlock.
"I was getting worried for a minute."
But it was only John who could here these words - Sherlock was already asleep, his head rested up against John's chest as he began to snore gently, his stomach rising and falling rhythmically.
"Goodnight Sherlock," the blonde boy hummed quietly, planting a gentle kiss onto his cheek before flicking off the light-switch and setting down under the blanket.

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