"Sherlock, I don't understand." John Watson looks at his flatmate, Sherlock Holmes, deeply in the eyes.
"What's there not to understand, John?" Sherlock seems to pin John in his place with his gaze.
"You said that..." John looks down at his feet, not knowing where else to go with that statement.
"That, I did, John, and what's your answer?" He stares down at the ex-army doctor.
"Yes." John looks up at his friend and bites his lip.
"Yes?" Sherlock looks at him, a slightly amused expression on his face.
"Yes. Why did you ask me, out of anyone you know you asked me. Why?"
"Because I know you...and I trust you." John smiles at Sherlock.
"Really?" Sherlock nods.
"I always have." John smiles wider.
"Thank you." Sherlock looks at him, genuinely puzzled.
"Asking me to come along." Sherlock shrugs noncommittally.
"Like I said. I trust you above everyone else." John smiled again.
"Do you want to go back to the flat, make some tea?" Sherlock shrugs again.
"Might as well...Lestrade is supposed to text me when he gets anything new..."
"Alright." John starts walking, then looks back over his shoulder. "Come on Sherlock." Sherlock throws one last glance over his shoulder, then follows his blogger.
"Are you worried?" John raises his eyebrows. Sherlock turns back around quickly.
"No...of course not." It is John's turn to pin Sherlock with a look.
"You're lying, Sherlock."
"No...I'm fine..." John wouldn't drop it.
"Are you really that worried someone over heard us?"
"Overheard us? No..." John crosses his arms, looking at him sternly.
"What would you do If someone did hear us?"
"Worried I'd take back what I said?"
"Yes." John bites his lip and looks up at Sherlock. Sherlock looks at him with his serious, stormy grey eyes. "I wouldn't."
"Good, I wouldn't either." John looked into Sherlock's eyes then looked back down.
"Glad we sorted that out..."
"Yes, me too."
"Home then, John?" John nods.
"Yeah, let's go." Sherlock walks along the street, hands in his pockets, coat collar turned up. John smiles.
"Stop it with you and your cheekbones." Sherlock arches an eyebrow.
"'Me and my cheekbones'?"
"Yes, look at you."
"Look at me what?" He tilts his head curiously.
"You're just walking, and looking very cool and i'm walking next to you looking very lame."
"I don't think you're lame."
"Thanks." John puts his hands in his coat pockets and keeps walking.
"In fact, I find you endlessly fascinating."
"Really now?" John turns his head so he can look at Sherlock while he talks. Sherlock looks at him, unblinking. "Of course."
"What do you mean?"
"What do I mean what?"
"How am I fascinating to you?"
"You're the one person I can't seem to figure out..." He walks along.
"Figure out? Sherlock, I can't figure you out at all."
"Because I keep it that way."
"Yes, you do."
"You do the same thing to me."
"What do you mean?" Sherlock turns on his heel and pierces John with his unwavering stare. John stops and just looks at Sherlock.
"What? What's wrong?"
"Seeing what?" John looks over his right shoulder, then his left.
"You." John looks back at Sherlock.
"Uh okay, what for?"
"You're a mystery, John Watson."
"Hmm..." He turns back and starts walking again.
"What?" John runs and catches up to Sherlock, whose legs are much longer than his. Sherlock shrugs his coat up, hands in his pockets.
"You're a mystery too, Sherlock."
"Mmmhmm..." They finally reach the flat and John unlocks the door, opening it for Sherlock. He nods a thank you, then takes the steps up to their flat two at a time, unlocking their door and going inside. John follows Sherlock.
"What tea do you want?" Sherlock shrugs off his coat, hanging it up along with his scarf.
"The usual, thank you." John walks in to the kitchen and puts some water in the teapot and puts it on the stove.
"Thank you, John..."
"Sure." John replies as he pulls out the tea bags and cups.
"I...really do appreciate you." John looks over at Sherlock.
"Thank you, I appreciate you too." Sherlock gives him a slight smile. John smiles back and turns back to the teapot. Sherlock curls up in his chair. Once the tea is done, John brings a cup over to Sherlock.
"Here you are." Sherlock looks up and takes it.
"Of course." John grabs his tea and sits in his chair too. Sherlock sips his tea, then absentmindedly checks his phone.
"No...worrying a bit..."
"About what?" John's eyebrows knit close together.
"Lestrade should've by now..."
"He should have answered you by now?"
"Yes....I suspect my brother is involved..." He fiddled with the buttons.
"Hmm.... is it about a case?"
"My needing Lestrade, or my brother?"
"I needed him to factcheck something for me...and....who knows with Mycroft..."
"Can I help in any way?"
"I don't see how...unless you can distract my dear brother."
"I don't know if I can do that, Sherlock, I don't think he likes me very much."
"Why wouldn't he like you?"
"He doesn't seem like he likes very many people." Sherlock shrugs.
"One of the few ways we are alike."
"And I like you...so why shouldn't he?"
"It seems likes he's annoyed with me."
"Annoyed?" He lifts an eyebrow elegantly.
"Yes, it seems that I just follow you around to him, do you think he thinks that?"
"Does it matter what my brother thinks of us?"
"No." John looks up from his tea.
"Then why do you care?"
"I was just thinking."
"About what?" He sets his tea down on the table and leans forward in the chair.
"Us, you know..." John keeps looking at Sherlock.
"Us...?" John shakes his head. "Working together, how strange it all fell together you know?"
"I don't think so...I was looking for a partner and a flatmate..."
"Oh right...sorry." John looked down at his tea.
"Unless...you were...wanting the other kind?"
"No, no." John didn't look up.
"Look at me." John blushes deep red and looks up. Sherlock scans his face. John just looks at Sherlock.
"Did I what?" John's brain freezes and he doesn't know what to say.
"Did you want the other kind of partner?"
"I wasn't planning on it." He doesn't take his eyes off Sherlock. /Why was he being so pushy with this?/
"'Wasn't planning on it'....hmmm..." He sits back in his chair.
"Why are you so curious, Sherlock?" John drops his glaze to his cup.
"Yes, you won't drop it."
"Only because you're being cagey."
"What's the big problem? We're friends, aren't we? Should this be something we should be able to talk about?"
"Yes, we should be able to but I don't know what my feelings are right now, alright?"
"What about you? What were you looking for.."
"Nothing..." He pulls his knees up to his chest.
"Are you sure?"
"Who's the one who won't drop it now?" John rolls his eyes and he takes a sip of his tea.
"If you must know, I did."
"What do you mean "What happened"?"
"I thought you meant when you said you did, you were in a relationship or you were looking for someone."
"Looking for someone."
"I think so..." he looks up at him.
"Really? Who?" Sherlock looks back down at his knees.
"Sherlock, come on, you can tell me." That only makes him curl tighter in on himself.
"Please." Sherlock's eyes flick up to John's face.
"Sher- Oh." John looks at Sherlock, then blushes and looks down. Sherlock shifts uncomfortably in his chair. John drinks his tea, and doesn't look at Sherlock.
Unexpectedly, Sherlock gets to his feet, grabs his phone and coat and heads for the door.
"Sherlock!" John gets to his feet too. The door slams as he runs down the steps. John runs after Sherlock, dropping his tea cup. Sherlock heads down the street, not even caring where he's headed or who he bumps into. John runs after Sherlock. He keeps running until he's behind Sherlock, panting. John puts a hand on Sherlock's shoulder. Sherlock shrugs him off, tucking his coat like a protective suit of armour tighter around him. John sneaks around Sherlock and stands in front of him. "Sherlock."
"What?" He says flatly, staring beyond John.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Tell you what?"
"That.. just never mind." John looks up at Sherlock, wishing he would stop acting dumb.
"Tell Dr. John "I'm not gay" Watson that I fancied him?"
"I guess you don't know me very well then Sherlock."
"Every time someone hints that we're a couple, you counter with "I'm not gay." What am I supposed to think?"
"That I'm scared you don't feel the same." Sherlock freezes, mouth moving wordlessly.
"See, you didn't ever figure that out Sherlock."
"It was a distraction."
"How long what?" John looks down at the ground.
"How long have you...felt that way?"
"It's been fading in and out now. When I first met you, I just knew you were..."
"Something to look out for." Sherlock chuckles. "That's one way to describe me I guess."
"When did you start feeling things for me?
"Hmm...that...first time at Angelo's....actually...then...I knew when you shot that cabbie."
John smiled. "That soon?"
"I told you, John...you fascinate me."
"I thought you meant, I was different which I am but I didn't take in that way." He shrugs.
"I didn't expect you would...most think me...what's the word...asexual." John just looks at Sherlock and doesn't say anything. He shrugs again.
"I'm not sure what I thought." John says after a few minutes. Sherlock looks down at John's face. John looks up at him and bites his lip.
"Did you think I was asexual too?"
"Yeah, I tried not to think about it too much, you know?"
"What now?" John looked around where they were standing.
"Well...I'd planned this big dramatic exit....but...you came after me."
"You were just going to leave me?"
"Well...you did reject me...so...is that not a proper response?"
"I didn't reject you!"
"It seemed like it."
"Well sorry, that it did." Sherlock focuses on a brick wall beyond John's left shoulder. John licked his lips.
"Home?" He looks at John hopefully.
"I suspect Lestrade will be preoccupied with my darling brother for a while longer..." John looks at him.
"Are you wanting to go somewhere else?" He shakes his curly head. "I need the information from Lestrade if I'm to continue the case. Trust me when I say I will be having words with Mycroft later."
John smiled at him. "So to the flat or Lestrade's office?"
"He won't be at his office."
"The flat then?" Sherlock gives a slight grunt of assent. John looks at him and starts walking back. Sherlock follows him sort of puppy-like, an odd feeling for him. John looked back at him and offered his hand out to him. He looks at the hand for a second. "Not worried that people might talk?"
"Damn them." Sherlock smiles softly, then takes his hand. John has no idea what his emotions are doing now, he feels different, but In a good way. He looks at Sherlock and smiles. The tall, curly haired detective smiles back, lightly squeezing on John's hand, thinking it's the right thing to do in a situation like this. John's face flushes. He lightly squeezes back. Sherlock walks along next to him, his brain swirling with all sorts of thoughts and emotions, all moving too fast for him to properly analyse them.
Some people walk by and John has no idea what to do. He just tightens his grip on Sherlocks hand a little bit, then once they pass, he releases slowly but doesn't let go of Sherlock's hand. Sherlock feels John tense up slightly as the pedestrians walk past them, then relax and it troubles him. They reach the door and John lets go. Sherlock blinks at the loss of John's hand, then looks at him like a confused child.
John goes into the door and looks back at Sherlock. "What's wrong?"
Sherlock blinks again. "You let go."
John turns around and looks at him "Sorry."
Sherlock looks down, wondering if he'd done something wrong, but reviewing it, he can't think of anything.
"Sherlock." John takes his hand again, trying his best not to show how scared and nervous he really was. The consulting detective looks down at their hands again, then back up at his face.
John looks at him "Sherlo- Sherlock, what's wrong?" He mumbles "Nothing," then goes past John into the flat. John follows.
"I thought you just said you fancied me?! Did I mishear you?" Sherlock goes into the kitchen under the pretense of checking in on his cultures growing in the windowsill, and John follows him.
"Sherlock answer me!" He doesn't turn around,.
"Fine, I'm leaving." John turns around to head back out the door.
"Because you don't really want it."
"Why would you say that?" John says, his back still facing Sherlock.
"You say 'Damn them', but then as soon as someone walks past, you tense up...almost like you're ashamed of holding hands with me."
"I'm not ashamed!" John yells.
"Then why?" The tall man tries to control his voice to not let John hear the pain inside him, pain he was still processing and categorising in his mind.
"I don't know what to do, Sherlock. I've never been with another guy. What am I supposed to do?"
"I'm no different from anyone else you've dated...I've just got different parts."
"I'm sorry!" John turns around to look at him, exasperated. Sherlock hunches over the sink.
"This is new to me, Sherlock. I don't know what to do."
"It's just as new to me....being in a relationship with someone I actually care about." John's heart skips a beat at his words, actually hearing Sherlock say he cared about him, rather than having to infer it for himself.
"Then let's figure it out together." Sherlock turns to look at him, pain clear in his grey eyes despite his immaculate poker face.
"Please." John's eyes were moist and tears were forming. He didn't want to cry. But he had feelings for this man. A lot of them, and they threatened to overwhelm him at any moment.
"Together?" John nods.
"Then please don't ever say you'll leave again."
"I won't." Sherlock's long fingers grip the counter. "If you did...they'd be right...
"What?" His hands shake.
"Everyone...everyone who's ever told me since I was born that I'd never find anyone..." John comes over to the counter near Sherlock.
"Don't stay that, you have me now." He gives out a short bark of humourless laughter.
"I'd actually started to believe them."
"Sherlock, please." John puts a hand on Sherlock's shoulder.
"Then you walked into St. Barts with your limp..." John rubs Sherlock's back, just listening.
"I felt something...something I'd never...in a long time...and...it scared me.
"Sherlock, it scared me too, when I saw you, I didn't know what I was doing. But in my heart, I knew there was something about you I didn't want to forget." He looks up at him. John looks at Sherlock.
"Then...you shot that cabbie for me...we'd barely known each other a couple days...yet..."
"There it was, right?" He bites his lip and nods.
"Sherlock, we are together. Nothing's going to happen." He searches his face, looking for anything that might prove otherwise. John bites his lip and looks into Sherlock's grey eyes. Sherlock's expression softens from scared panic to resignation and assent.
"Can I hug you?" Sherlock blinks, then smiles and nods. When the words first came out of John's mouth, he thought they sounded childish but as he opens his arms for Sherlock, he thought otherwise. Sherlock awkwardly slumps a bit and steps into John's arms, letting John hug him tightly. Then without thinking (something hard for him), Sherlock presses a small kiss to the top of John's sandy blonde head. A red blush forms on John's cheeks, and he smiles up at Sherlock, who blinks when he realises what he did. John just hugs Sherlock again and puts his face on Sherlock's chest, breathing in deeply. Sherlock brings his arms up around the smaller man, cradling him against him. John breathes in deeply a few more times, feeling safe there in Sherlock's arms. He felt like he was home. Sherlock closes his eyes, resting his chin on the top of John's head, his heart beat calm and soothing.
They stand there for a while just holding each other.
After a while, Sherlock's phone goes off with a bright chirp, and the ex-army doctor jumps. Sherlock curses under his breath. "That had better be Lestrade with the information I asked for an hour ago, or so help me, heads will fly."
John laughs and lets Sherlock go. The tall detective inwardly laments the loss of John, then fishes his phone out of his pants pocket. Clicking the text open, he scans it quickly, then his eyes widen.
"What is it?" John walks over to look.
Sherlock clicks the message closed. "John, I think it best if you sit this one out."
"What is it?" John looks up at him with puppy eyes.
Sherlock pats his head. "Nothing I can't handle with Lestrade's help."
John looks at him sternly this time. "Sherlock, just tell me what it is." He looks at him with an odd look in his eyes.
"Jim's back in town."
"What?!" John looks at Sherlock deeply concerned.
"Yes...those murders Lestrade has me on? I had my suspicions...but...it looks like they were ordered hits."
"Please let me come with you."
His eyes flash in anger and concern. "He already tried to use you as a human explosive! What's to stop him from doing it again?!"
"You don't actually think I'm just going to stay here. I'm coming with you."
"You can't make me stay here, nothing you say will make me stay and leave you."
"John...I don't want you to get hurt..."
"Please, let me come."
"If you come, he's going to aim straight at you...especially if he's been tipped off to...recent developments..."
"Sherlock, no one knows. No ones does."
"He has eyes everywhere." John looks up at him pleadingly. "Please."
He whispers quietly. "I don't want him taking you away from me."
"He wouldn't." John breathes quietly.
"Given the chance and the shot, he would."
"It wouldn't be safe for me to stay here alone either, Sherlock." Sherlock sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"I need to be with you."
"You need...to be safe." John looks him square in the eyes.
"You're safe." He looks at him sadly. "Not always."
"I don't care." John looks at Sherlock deeply, making his breath hitch in his chest.
"I'm not leaving your side." Sherlock sighs again.
".......Nothing I say will change your mind, then?"
"Nothing." He sighs. "Fine...but if Moriarty lays one finger on you, I'm not responsible for my actions."
"I want to be with you, I don't care about the things that might happen." Sherlock looks down at his doctor.
"The thing is...I want you always with me...not just on this case.
"As do I." John smiles a little bit.
"So...forgive me if I'm a little...overprotective when it comes to Moriarty." John shrugs slightly.
"I understand, just don't make it too obvious, but there is nothing to worry about."
"I hope so, John, I really hope so." John doesn't say anything. He just looks at Sherlock. Sherlock returns his look. John licks his lips then looks down. He elegantly arches an eyebrow.
John looks back up. "Er- we better go." Sherlock blinks, then realises. "Yes...yes...of course...to Scotland Yard." John leans up and kisses Sherlock softly on the cheek then says, "Let's go."
Sherlock blinks at the contact, then smiles. "Let's go." John starts walking out of the flat.
"Yes?" John looks at Sherlock. The tall detective takes two long strides over to him, tilts his chin up, bends down and gives him a sweet, gentle kiss. The good doctor closes his eyes and kisses Sherlock back gently, and he breathes deeply through his nose. Sherlock pulls back, resting his forehead on John's. The smaller man opens his eyes and smiles.
"Thank you," Sherlock whispers, his breath ghosting across John's lips. John gently holds Sherlock's face in his hands and kisses him again sweet and soft. Then he pulls away. "No thank you." The consulting detective blinks again, something he found himself doing a lot lately.
"Sherlock?" John whispers.
"Are you ready?" He nods. John walks out the door and waits for Sherlock at the bottom of the stairs. Sherlock follows behind, locking the door to their flat behind him.