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It was a white Christmas. There was no need for Jim to worry about his tracks, for they would be covered in the next five minutes with the falling snow. With all the lights it was almost a beautiful sight, but Jim couldn't care less about Christmas. Just another ridiculous holiday people took too far with the gifts and the "joy" and everything else in between, and yet here he was delivering his own present to Sherlock Holmes.
Jim stared up at the building. It seemed meaner, almost unwelcoming since the last time he invited himself over. No matter. It's been one and a half years since the last visit; a sojourn at the very least was in order.
The smell of a dying fire and the feel of a growing chill greeted the criminal as he walked in. Silence carried on as Jim tiptoed up the stairs, mindful of the areas that creaked and moaned when stepped on.
Creak!
Except that damn stair. It got him last time, and it got Jim again. Someone, if not Sherlock, would be awake by now. Jim held his breath, freezing in place. Nothing indicated to a disturbed dweller, so the criminal continued upstairs to the living room door. The gradual turn of the doorknob led to a darkened apartment with dying kindling in the fireplace and a softly snoring detective.
Perhaps Jim should leave the gift on the table. Sherlock would be awake early enough to open it before others would pry. Jim was most definitely not waiting until he awoke, and waking the detective would just be rude. Sherlock looked so peaceful. His back was turned to Jim, and his messy curls fell on his forehead. It took every ounce of will power to put the present on the table and start heading over the door, instead of putting a hand on his shoulder or possibly nibbling on his neck. Or joining Sherlock in his slumber, in his arms. But Jim knew better than to give into those desires.
Jim almost made it out the door until he heard the detective call out sleepily,
"Stay?"
His hand wavered over the doorknob, soon to fall back to his side. Dammit, Jim.
"Please?"
Jim let out a sigh and turned to a half-asleep Sherlock, his back now facing upwards and his eyes stared at Jim with a mix of drowsiness and longing. Sherlock had probably been pretending to be dozing since the stair incident. There was no way around this now. The detective was smarter than to think this a mere dream, Jim would hope.
"You're so needy." The criminal sat opposite from Sherlock. This was not in the plans, but for once Jim was flexible.
"So ‘re you," Sherlock replied, slightly smirking before shifting to a more comfortable position. "Otherwise you wouldn't have come back."
"Not everything is about you, Sherlock."
"But this time it is."
Jim mumbled something about skinning the detective, which only evoked chuckles from Sherlock.
"I missed you," Sherlock said before closing his eyes again.
"Don't get soppy with me. It's not like you."
"And you missed me."
"Hmph." Jim sat back on the chair, not denying but very much confirming that statement. It was more than missing. Sherlock Holmes was a craving, someone you couldn’t get out of your head no matter how hard you tried. "I liked you better when you were sleeping."
More chuckles came from detective before utter silence settled in the room again. It was true, Jim was here for Sherlock. He was here because he missed the games they used to play. The flirting, the homoerotic themes, the puzzles. Sherlock played along to all, and sometimes returned some of the banter himself. They were made for each other, truly, in all the best and worst of ways.
Jim cared about Sherlock. Maybe care was taking it a bit far, but it was the only word that sort of fit. Love was too strong, like was too weak. But it was definitely a level of intimacy that had not existed in Jim's life for a while.
Sherlock began his breathing pattern again, which eventually turned into his soft snoring. This was Jim's cue to leave. He couldn't stay the whole night, as much as he wanted to. Being dead to the world had responsibilities.
After getting up from the chair, Jim walked over to Sherlock.
"You'll see me again one day. You'll see. Everyone will see."
With that in mind, the criminal left Sherlock to sleep. Jim's time was soon to come.
Everyone will see that I actually do care.