His Great Game (Sherlock x Reader)

Chapter 33: What You Mean to Me

A/N: What? What's this? I actually updated on time?!? That's right, I finally did, just because I love you all so much and the new season premiere had me in my Sherlock feels. Thank you guys so much for 55.1K reads and 2.98K votes :) There are some VERY important notes at the end of this chapter so please read them.

This one has some Sherlock POV, because I thought it was time we saw ourselves through the detective's eyes again :) It's also hella long. Oops sorry not sorry. Enjoy.

(Your POV)

Purple looked good on Sherlock. I mean, really good. As he sat in his armchair by the fire, plucking absentmindedly on his violin and talking to Irene, I couldn't help but stare. He had changed earlier this afternoon. Why? No idea. I guess he decided white just wasn't working for him. But then he came out from the bedroom in that and... Daaamn. If Irene hadn't been there, I might've just pinned him to the wall. I chuckled to myself. Yeah, right, as if I would have the guts to initiate that sort of thing. Sure, we showered each other with physical affection daily, but nothing ever got too heated.

I leaned against the back of the sofa, taking in the sight of Sherlock's godly image for a while longer. The firelight reflected brilliantly off his face, casting shadows onto those impossibly high cheekbones. It was early in the evening, but as it was winter, the sky was already dark. The lack of light coming in from the windows only added to the contrast on his face.

But it wasn't just his cheekbones that had caught my attention from this angle. There were his obscenely long legs. Those dark, chocolatey curls that were like silk to the touch. His brilliant, ever-changing eyes that could reduce me to an incoherent mess with just a glance. Those agile fingers that were delicately plucking his violin right now, but could probably do unspeakable things to... Okay, (Y/n), stop it!!

I jerked back to reality, surprised by my own thoughts. Of course I had always thought Sherlock was attractive, but my mind had never gone this far. I found it hard to believe that Sherlock's mind might've ever gone that far, either. Was he kidding this morning? He looked serious... I sighed and shook my head- no, he was probably kidding. All part of the act. I'm pretty sure John said something about him being asexual once. That was fine by me- I'd never done anything like that before, anyways.

I was more than content with just being by his side- the girlfriend of the most brilliant and (secretly) kind person in the world. I smiled to myself. And to think he chose me over the dozens of women that probably throw themselves at him. I jerked back to reality once more. Speaking of other women... I looked over at John's chair to see Irene staring straight at me, another smug grin on her face. I nearly groaned aloud. How long has she been watching me? Oh God, I really hope she couldn't tell what I was thinking. But by the way she adjusted the hem of Sherlock's dressing gown and preened her loose hair, I knew I was done for.

She stared straight at me as she spoke her next words. "Sherlock, have you ever had anyone?"

(Sherlock's POV)

"Sherlock, have you ever had anyone?"

Irene's sudden question made me look up in surprise. Had anyone? What was that supposed to mean? Thrown off-guard, it took me a moment to respond to the dark-haired woman sitting in front of me. "Sorry?"

"And when I say 'had,' I'm being indelicate." She stared at me intently, and I did a mental sweep over her for a few seconds, figuring out what she meant. I took a deep breath, realizing what she must be implying.

I risked a quick glance at (Y/n), who was sitting on the sofa. She refused to meet my gaze, looking utterly embarrassed. I frowned. Could that mean she never wants me to do anything of that nature with her? I tried to shake off my disappointment. I made a quick calculation. In order to appease (Y/n) as well as get information out of Irene, I had to pretend to be oblivious. "I don't understand." I replied simply, setting my violin on the arm of my chair.