A Two Hug Problem

“Morning Sherlock,” I smiled, as I entered my flat. I'd been gone for over an hour, yet Shaun also known as Sherlock to his close friends, was stood exactly where I'd left him – staring at his problem wall. Whenever he had an issue with his work, he would take all the relevant papers, pictures, graphs etc., and pin them to the wall; hence his nickname.

“Morning,” his eyes flitted to me as I started to put my shopping away.

“Still struggling?”

“Evidently,” he replied, and the room fell quiet once more. I knew better than to interrupt Sherlock's thinking time. I always felt my talking to him was more of a hindrance than a help. I began to make tea; something I'd grown very accustomed to doing here, though I never drank it myself. As the kettle boiled, I surreptitiously looked over at Shaun. He was such an extraordinary person. I'd never met anyone that could be so invested in one train of thought. I'd never known anyone to be that passionate about anything. It didn't matter what he was doing really, because he put this much concentration into everything, from his work, to doing the dishes.

When the tea was ready, I warmed my winter-chilled fingers on his cup as I worked my way through his mess and carefully across the room. I moved a small table over to his side and placed the tea there. Straightening myself out, I looked over the problem wall and decided that I knew far too little about it to be able to help, at least until he was ready to talk about it. So I did my usual thing of being overly-friendly with my genius friend, and stood right in front of him. Luckily, being shorter than him meant that I was by no means in his way, as I decided to warm myself by sliding my hands between his jacket and shirt, and wrapping my arms around his waist. Being used to these displays of affection by now, Shaun lifted one arm and placed it gently around my back. I knew it probably didn't mean half as much to him as it did to me, but the feeling of being so close to him made me feel safe. It had been a long time since I resigned myself to not being noticed by him, so I rested my head on his chest and listened carefully to the beating of his heart. It always drummed harder when he was really interested in something, and this job seemed to have him completely engrossed. His breathing, however, was slow and intentional, like he had to concentrate on every in-breath and every out-breath. He seemed so controlled, and being pressed against his strong chest, listening to his body work, was like listening to a symphony. My thumb rubbed gently up and down against the back of his shirt, and I could feel his breathing change ever so slightly. He liked it. I moved my other fingers for a moment or two before beginning to pull away from him.

To me, each beat of Shaun's heart was so important that time would pass slowly for me to enjoy it, but from anyone else's perspective, only a moment or two would have passed in that hug. I tried to tear myself away from his body, but as my hands left the confines of his jacket, his arms pulled me straight back to him. Both of his arms wrapped around me like a blanket, as I leaned back to look into his face. His eyes darted down to meet mine, and he smiled quickly, before returning his attention to his wall.

“What's this?” I asked, more quietly than I'd intended.

Without breaking his stare at the wall, he breathed back, “It's a two-hug problem.”

I laughed almost silently, as I rested my head back on his chest, happy to stay there for as long as he wanted me to. After a warming minute, I felt him move, and my heart sank as I thought that it was over already, but then I felt the subtle touch of his lips on the top of my head, before he once again returned to his original stance. I heard the out-breath of a smile, and felt his heart-rate increase as I squeezed myself tighter against him and drew circles and lines with my fingers along his back, hoping the future would be filled with many more two-hug problems.