Work Text:
He’d gotten used enough to sharing a bed with Molly over the last couple of months that he could tell when she was simply a little too far away from him but still in bed and when she was out of the bed completely. And right now she was out of bed completely, which he wasn’t all that happy about. He’d kind of hoped she’d stay there and he could convince her to go for round two to complement what was probably some of the best sex he’d had in his entire life the night before. There really was something to the adage that make up sex was the best sex, apparently. And when the two of them had finally gone to sleep he’d gone to sleep with thoughts of spending the entire next day with just the two of them and no interruptions, well-meaning friends be damned.
He wanted to smack everyone for setting him up on that date but truth be told if John and Mary and Sherlock hadn’t set it up so he and Molly were forced to sit down and talk he’d probably have spent however long he had left in London lonely and miserable. He knew he’d been a beast these last few weeks, and he could see Molly had been miserable too. It had been harder being separated from her and not having her around, not sharing moments with her, than he had thought it would be. He had thought to himself that not sharing his bed with her would have been the worst part but he’d been wrong about that. He hadn’t realized he’d fallen for her until she’d pushed him away, but he was so angry she’d done it he didn’t want to cave and tell her. His stubbornness and pride was going to be his downfall one of these days.
At least it wasn’t today.
He got out of bed and went to go get some underwear to slip on before trying to figure out where she’d gone. Hopefully, it wasn’t too far; they both had today off and he didn’t feel like leaving her flat unless and until they absolutely had to. But the smell of food being cooked told him he’d probably find her in the kitchen. The closer he got the stronger the smells of food became: bacon, eggs, coffee. He’d have to kiss her multiple time for this.
He stopped when he got to the doorway and saw her in the slightly wrinkled white button-down shirt he’d worn the night before and her knickers and nothing else. Her hair was pulled up on top of her head in a rather loose bun and secured there, though it looked like it might fall out of the band holding it at any point, and she was humming along to the music on the radio as she was cooking. There was something about this sight that just stuck him as absolutely perfect, and the fact that she’d agreed that she wanted to date him, really date him, meant he would have multiple chances to see it, hopefully.
“Morning,” he drawled out as he came into the kitchen.
“Good morning,” she said, turning to smile at him. When he got close enough, she pulled her attention away from the food to give him a leisurely kiss. “I know you like your coffee strong so that pot is yours.”
He stayed close, looking down at her. “How’d I get so lucky?” he asked.
She hesitated a moment, then turned off the heat under the skillet before stepping closer to him and wrapping her arms around his neck. He responded by settling his hands on her hips under the shirt, playing with the waistband of her knickers. “We could get into a rather lengthy discussion that involves multidimensional travel in time and space and how the timing for a series of events had to be just right and you had to be at precise locations at precise times and--”
He cut her off by pressing his lips against hers, and she sighed into the kiss as she pressed her body against his. He had the feeling that while the idea of her making them breakfast was a good one she probably wasn’t going to finish for a little while. Maybe even a long while, if he had his way. “I’d rather just spend the time kissing you and making up for the last few weeks we weren’t talking,” he said, keeping his face close to hers.
She moved her arms down and then framed his face with her hands. “I do wish I hadn’t pushed you away,” she said quietly. “I just...I was using you to make Sherlock jealous and somewhere along the line I stopped caring about that and I wanted you but you just thought I wanted him and it was such a mess.” She leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “I should have just told you.”
“It wasn’t all your fault. I said that last night,” he said, leaning his forehead against hers. “I was stubborn and pigheaded and I didn’t realize how I felt about you till you were gone. But we’ve straightened it out and we have a long time to spend together since I’m probably never going home. If you want to, I mean.”
“I think I would,” she said with a smile.
“Good,” he said before kissing her again and pulling her as close as he could get. She moved her hands to his shoulders and clung to him as the kiss increased in the passion and his hands began to inch the shirt she was wearing up more. Somehow he got the feeling that they may not make it back to the bedroom if things got a bit more frisky but he didn’t think she’d mind when she started to pull her hands away from his shoulders and move them down his chest towards the underwear he was wearing.
Yeah, somehow he didn’t think she’d mind at all...