“He looks so much older, Victor. Thinner. Nearly broken.”
“Yes, well, losing you will do that to a man.” Victor attempted a weak smile. “Or so I imagine.” He cleared his throat. “Well. You’ve made up your mind, then?”
“I have.” Sherlock apparently could not bring himself to look into Victor’s eyes. “I’m going back home to him at the end of the week. I only hope he will find a way to forgive me for the pain I’ve caused him.”
Victor let out a barely-audible sigh. “He will; I assure you.”
“May I continue to stay with you until I… meet with him? Or would you prefer I find somewhere else?”
“Sherlock, for God’s sake,” Victor answered hoarsely before regaining his composure. “You don’t have to ask me that. You never have to ask me that. I want to help you in any way I can.” This time, Victor met Sherlock’s gaze. “Even if it means watching you leave again.”
Sherlock’s lips parted for a moment, then closed abruptly, cutting of a response Victor could only try to guess at. Instead, Sherlock merely asked a question. “Did you know he would be here tonight?”
Something cold gnawed at Victor’s stomach, but he smiled nonetheless. “No. I didn’t think this type of … establishment… would attract the man you’ve described to me. I’m rather surprised he can afford it, too. Or would that be your generous estate we have to thank?”
A smile crept across Sherlock’s lips. “Hardly. He’s working. For Lestrade, I imagine.”
“Applying your methods, in your honour. One might use the phrase ‘In Loving Memory’. You don’t worry he’ll see you?” Tightness gripped Victor’s chest and throat.
Not yet. Not just yet, please. Give me these last few days.
“I shouldn’t think so. He’s obviously on the lookout for a man of about his height, one with very dark hair. Those are the only individuals getting his attention tonight. Still,” Sherlock took one hand out of his jacket pocket and placed it on Victor’s shoulder, close enough to let his thumb brush the skin on Victor’s neck; “We should leave now, just to be sure. Would you be terribly disappointed to make it an early night?”
“Not at all. That would be fine,” Victor breathed.
Sherlock moved closer, backing Victor up to the wall, but not pressing him against it. He took his friend’s face in his hands, pulled it down slightly, and kissed him.
A soft, slow, loving kiss.
When Victor opened his eyes again, he saw Sherlock turn slightly away as if to check that John’s attention had drifted elsewhere.
His heart sank. “Ah. Was that… camouflage? Was that for him?”
Sherlock looked back, his own eyes wet with tears, now.
“No. No, my friend; that was for me.”
——-
Photo submitted by pati79 . Text by valeria2067
High res image of #BenedictCumberbatch promoting War Horse. It’s the photoshoot that keeps on giving! Thanks so much to the poster for all these amazing photos.Benedict Cumberbatch #09
Anon asked:6 Favourite Photos of Johnlock
Not really photos, but these are my favourite scenes with the two!
Anon asked:6 Favourite Photos of Johnlock
Not really photos, but these are my favourite scenes with the two!
