Chapter Text
For a while, John just sat there, staring into nothing. The spot right next to him was still warm from Sherlock’s presence and John could still feel him. His arms around him, holding him, securing him.
For a moment he had thought Sherlock had wanted it too. He had already been awake and careful not to jostle him, indulging quietly in their closeness. Then, Sherlock had woken up as well and didn’t move away – at least at first. He had slung his arms tighter around John and just for a moment John had let himself think that he was enjoying it as well.
But then Sherlock had untangled himself and run away. And John was left alone.
Everything inside him screamed at him to just stay in bed and try to fall back asleep, impossible as it might seem. But still, he got up and softly walked down the stairs, trying not to make a sound.
He didn’t really want to discuss this with Sherlock, but he knew he had to. Sherlock was his best friend and he had obviously made him uncomfortable. First, the almost kiss under the mistletoe and now this, a clear sign that Sherlock didn’t want this. This closeness to John, this ides of them together.
He had wanted John to play the boyfriend for him but clearly he didn’t like the thought and it made him uncomfortable. And so it was John’s duty as his best friend to fix that and end this pretend boyfriends business.
And if Sherlock’s parents got angry they had been fooled? Well, John was ready for it as long as it meant Sherlock would still be his best friend. He hoped Sherlock at least still thought he was just pretending.
If he had caught onto John’s feelings, then it was already too late.
But was it really that unpleasant for Sherlock? To share a bed with his best friend and wake up to them cuddling? Was John really that … that disgusting that Sherlock didn’t even want to share a bed with him for one night, knowing it wasn’t real.
John could understand that Sherlock didn’t want to be in a relationship. With anyone and even less with him. But the fact that even just pretending, even with his best friend, even if it was only for one night seemed to be so painful for him, hurt.
Because if he couldn’t get a real relationship with Sherlock, this was the closest John would ever get. But if that was already too much for Sherlock, too distressful … how could John ever be enough?
In the living room he came to a halt, watching Sherlock, who had curled up on the sofa. The low sound of the TV playing in the background was the only other noise in the room, except for their breathing.
Slowly, John walked towards the sofa, unsure about how to best start the inevitable conversation. He could tell Sherlock had noticed him by now but he gave no sign of acknowledging him. Instead, he had apparently decided to just ignore John.
Needing to do something, he lit a fire before he sat down on the free space on the sofa, budged up against Sherlock. After a while of listening to the cracking fire and staring at the man, Sherlock suddenly moved to sit up.
“You want to talk.” It wasn’t a question, said impassively, like he was only sharing some information.
John nodded. “I think we need to.” He sighed. “Look, Sherlock. I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable. That was never my intention and we can stop this now.”
Sherlock looked confused. It would have almost been comical if it weren’t for the severity of the conversation. “Stop this?”
“You know what I mean. The pretending. I know you didn’t want to tell your parents the truth but I don’t want you to feel uneasy. We can tell them we decided to break up or we just keep pretending until we leave. But we don’t have to share a bed and –”
“I understand. It’s better to stop”, Sherlock nodded sharply. His voice sounded strange. “But you didn’t make me uncomfortable, John. This isn’t because of you.”
John frowned. “I didn’t? But then why –”
“It doesn’t matter! If you want to end this, we can. I didn’t want you to feel like you had to do this, for me.”
“I … if I want to end this? Sherlock, I never felt like I had to do this for you. I did it because I … because I wanted to. I thought you wanted to end this?”
“When have I ever said that?” Sherlock sounded confused but John could hear the nervousness in his voice.
He sighed, staring into the fire for a while. He wasn’t sure what to make of this talk or their situation as a whole.
“Sherlock, I know you didn’t want to kiss me under the mistletoe and just now you fled the bed because you woke up close to me and that’s fine. That’s totally alright. But I’m your best friend and I don’t want you to feel …”
“To feel what?”
“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable because of me. Or because of my feelings for you.” He tightened his jaw, looking to the side for a few seconds. There. He had said it.
Beside him, Sherlock had tensed up and was now analysing him with wide eyes.
“Your feelings for me?”, he asked in an almost timid voice.
“Well, don’t sound so surprised.” He huffed. “I was sure you had already deduced that much. It’s no problem, really. I know you don’t feel the same and if you want me to leave I will but you mean a lot to me, Sherlock, and if still want to be my best friend I –”
“Stop!”
Sherlock’s hissed shout was like a punch to the face. Immediately, John went quiet, trying to hold back treacherous tears. He had been in the army, for god’s sake, he wouldn’t cry.
“Stop!”, Sherlock repeated, much quieter. “I don’t understand. Your … your feelings for me?”
“I’m sure you understand what that means.”
“I … I do understand the implication, though the past has shown I’m prone to misinterpret information like this when it comes to you and –”
“I love you, okay?” His impatience quickly dissolved. “I love you”, he said it again, softer.
Silence.
“You do?” Why did he sound so unsure, afraid almost?
“Of course I do”, John whispered.
“Oh.”
He snorted. “Yes, oh.”
“But you … you didn’t kiss me under the mistletoe?” Sherlock still sounded confused.
“That’s what you want to focus on? Sherlock, you looked like you were about to kiss a dead fish! I would never force a kiss onto you. And your parents and brother were watching.”
Sherlock seemed to think about that for a bit, while John tried not to die of embarrassment or heartbreak or both.
Then, finally.
“So you would kiss me now?”
“What?!”
“You said you didn’t kiss be because you didn’t want to force me. You thought I wouldn’t want to. And the presence of my family made you unease. You wouldn’t force me now, seeing as I return your feelings. Besides, we are alone now …”
John was dumbfounded. “You return my feelings?!”
“That’s what I just said, yes.”
“You mean you … you love me?”
“Seriously John, must you be so slow?”
But John didn’t have time to think on it because second later, soft lips were pushed against his with enthusiasm. Before his brain could even register what was happening, John’s body had already reacted and he found himself kissing back. Sherlock’s smell washed over him and he immediately felt at ease. Their noses brushed against each other softly, as they tasted each other’s lips. Sherlock’s strong hands were holding up his face, as John’s own hand sunk deeply into the man’s luscious curls.
As he tightened his grip, Sherlock moaned and opened his mouth. Grinning, John pushed further against him and slipped in his tongue. Quickly, their innocent kisses developed into a heavy make out-session.
They had to take breaks eventually, to catch their breath, but they delved right back into snogging as soon as they could. Finally, John pushed Sherlock away gently.
“Sherlock! We can’t! We’re in your parents’ house!”
Sherlock only gave him a sly grin in response, planting small kisses on his throat and jaw. “And why, tell me, should that stop us?” He giggled and his eyes were shining.
John almost couldn’t resist him.
Almost.
He smiled, wrapping his arms around Sherlock and drawing him closer. “Because I won’t let our first time together happen on your parents’ sofa. And with Mycroft in the house.”
Sherlock shot him a murderous look, though he couldn’t wipe the smile of his face. “Ugh”, he sighed dramatically. “John, if you ever mention my brother again when we are doing this, I will kill you.”
They stared into each other’s eyes for a while, both of them unable to believe what had just happened. Then, almost simultaneously, they broke out into laughter, Sherlock’s low rumble perfectly matching John’s high pitched giggles.
“Shhh”, John tried to motion. “We can’t giggle, we’re going to wake up the whole house!”
But that only resulted in Sherlock laughing louder. And really, John was too happy to see him like this to do anything against it.
After they had calmed down they snuggled up closer to each other, softly exchanging kisses until they got to tired. Sherlock rested his head on John’s chest, the man’s strong arms coming up around him to hold him in place.
John was almost asleep when Sherlock’s whisper brought him back.
“You really love me?”
“Yes”, he placed a kiss on Sherlock’s forehead and Sherlock let out a satisfied purring sound in response.
“I wanted to kiss you”, Sherlock continued whispering. “Under the mistletoe. I … I didn’t run away earlier because I was uncomfortable with our position. I was scared you would see my feelings for what they are and run. That you would notice I wasn’t pretending and …”, he sighed. “I was scared I would lose you.”
“Sherlock”, John breathed, in awe. “I would never abandon you, do you hear me? Never. I … the only pretending I ever did was to pretend I wasn’t madly in love with you this whole time.”
“Yes, so you said”, Sherlock sounded unsure. “But I can recall you saying you weren’t gay either.” He kept his head buried in John’s neck, not wanting to look up and see John realize he had made a mistake.
“Ah, yes”, John acquiesced while his arms tightened around Sherlock. “But that was because I didn’t like it when people just assumed about us, not because I didn’t want it to be true. And I was saying the truth, in a way.” He smiled. “Not gay doesn’t mean not straight, after all.”
Sherlock lifted his head at that, staring up at him with an analyzing look. “Bisexual”, he murmured after a while. “It’s always something.”
John nodded. “Yeah. But I never … Harry had a hard time when she came out to dad and I … focusing on women and trying to block out part of me seemed the easier thing to do.”
Sherlock’s gaze intensified as he studied him intensely. “But there was someone, in the army.”
John nodded again. “Yes”, he breathed. “We … He was my commanding officer. We couldn’t … he would have lost his position. Nothing happened between us except for a kiss.”
Sherlock caressed his sides, offering comfort. “But you wanted it to”, he whispered.
“Yes.”
It was freeing, admitting it like this. His relationship with James – or his non-relationship, rather – had always been something he didn’t want to discuss. Nothing much had happened between them and still he had wished … until he had met Sherlock and become quickly enamored, that was.
Talking about it like this, finally admitting what he hadn’t wanted to admit to himself for a long time, felt like liberation. He looked down at the head of curls resting on his chest.
“When I came back from the war, you made me feel alive again, Sherlock. I … I owe you my life.” His voice was heavy and he had to swallow back tears, for the second time that night.
Sherlock’s earnest eyes were looking back at him. “And I owe you mine, John. You should know that.”
He buried his head in John’s neck again and John could feel his smile against his skin.
“So … that means we are … together, now?”, Sherlock asked after a while had passed in silence.
John shivered as he felt his deep voice against him. “If you want to?”
At that, Sherlock lifted his head to send him an incredulous glare. “Of course I want to, don’ be an idiot.”
John grinned. “Well, then I guess you’re mine, sugar poo.”
Sherlock groaned, sinking back down against his torso. “You are not starting with these abominable pet names again.”
John glared at him in mock-offence. “What? I thought you liked my pet names!”
Sherlock simply kissed his neck, tenderly. “Some of them”, he mumbled before he fell asleep. John followed him soon thereafter.
____________________{♡}____________________
Sherlock was brutally torn from his dreams as something soft and heavy jumped onto him. Immediately he was wide awake. “What the …”, he mumbled but stopped after he had laid eyes on the small bundle of light fur that had woken him.
John seemed to have woken up as well because he had tightened his grip on Sherlock’s waist and was also staring at the dog with half-opened eyes.
“Of course”, he mumbled, sleepily. “Mycroft’s bloody corgi.”
Charles stared at them wide-eyed and barked excitedly. His tail wagged back and forth and he turned around excitedly as he drooled on Sherlock's leg.
John laughed. Sherlock looked like he wasn’t sure whether to glare at Charles or his new-found boyfriend. “Mycroft taught to do him that, I know it”, he complained.
When he met John’s eyes he was overwhelmed with the amount of love he could see in them, before he was smoothly dragged closer against him and drawn into a gentle kiss.
Both of them grinned widely when they broke apart again and Sherlock excitedly pushed back against John and kissed him again.
Until they were interrupted by Mycroft’s over-exaggeratedly disgusted voice, that was.
“Now, I’m happy you two were finally able to stop moping and have a talk but if you could be so kind as not to permanently traumatize my dog, I would be very grateful”, he commented snidely, although without his usual harshness.
Sherlock rolled his eyes as he reluctantly moved away from John, so the man could stand up.
“Uhm, I’ll just go and take a shower, yeah?” John asked. Sherlock nodded and smiled up at him.
John took a step towards the door, then turned and looked at Mycroft. With a smirk, he stepped back towards Sherlock and drew him into a heavy kiss, stroking his cheek with his hand and licking around his lips. Then he got up abruptly and winked at him cheekily, before he left the room and Sherlock was left alone with his brother and dog, still trembling from the intensity of the kiss.
Slowly, he stood up as well and lifted an eyebrow at Mycroft’s face. “What do you want?”
Mycroft just sighed in faux annoyance but he smiled at Sherlock in a way that meant he was proud of him, and Sherlock was affected by it more than he thought he would be.
“I’m happy for you, brother dear, I am.” Mycroft narrowed his eyes at him. “Just … don’t mess this up, is all.”
Sherlock’s face changed as he looked at his brother with determination.
“I won’t”, he vowed. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to join my boyfriend in the shower.”
And he grinned all the way towards the bathroom and even longer still, at the thought that he could actually say that now.