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Sometimes, when John runs with Sherlock, he tastes starlight.
There is a certain power you get when you’re watching the flap of Sherlock’s coat as he pursues a criminal, John’s felt it. It’s a bit like the feeling he got when he saved a soldier from bleeding out- it’s a certain sense of living that he’s never really been able to obtain on his own. He’s not sure if it’s a sense of purpose he’s after, or just a cheap thrill, but after finally finding it after life as a soldier he knows that he’s hooked. It’s his own personal addiction, and Sherlock is his unfortunate drug dealer.
As a kid, he’d always had a thing for superheros- It probably explained his career choice, getting high off saving lives- and he, quite ridiculously, feels like he is one. Like he’s making history. Like his spine is a book that Sherlock could run his dexterous fingers down and he would explode in a supernova of a million pages so that the world could read his story- their story.
And then, in the peri-winkle early morning moments, when Sherlock’s €800 shoes are slapping against the concrete and the next serial killer psycho-murder is getting away from them, John will start to laugh. And the noise will ricochet through the alleyway and all the way to the underground where it will fill all of London because John can feel the cosmos turning under his feet as the world shifts as he saves lives and catches bad guys and laughs and laughs and laughs and lives. Sometimes Sherlock will ignore him, but others he will half turn to grin his stupid grin at his blogger, and John will see the rest of the universe in his impossible eyes. Because when Sherlock had asked him if he wanted a bit more danger and he had said God Yes he had really, really meant it.
Sometimes, when John runs with Sherlock, he tastes starlight.
AUTHOR NOTE PLEASE READ: Can one of the team leaders please submit this for me? I can’t do it from my phone. D: the song was the second one, and don’t bother with a title.