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His eyes burn but the hands on them absorb the pain and the tears sting like pins on his cheeks, they go slow and stop with the sobs too. He tries to calm himself and his breathing, so John follows the breathing of the man who hugs him.
In the past, John was educated to be strong, to be the rock for everyone, like for his sister Harriet. Whenever she came home drunk after an argument with their parents and hopelessly crying, she needed to be comforted. But now John lets himself go into the arms of the only man who’s there for him.
Sherlock is calm, and the doctor know he’s trying to do the same for him. He doesn’t say anything after ‘it is what it is’ but the consulting detective tries to do it with his breathing. It’s deep and John can feel it on his chest where he’s held; he feels Sherlock’s hand caress his back. The other hand is on the back of his neck, his fingertips brushing and sending chills into John’s body, a sweet sensation substitutes the sobs and tears.
Feelings that remind John, Sherlock is there with him. His cheek brushes his hair like a caress and he tightens him.
He’s there.
Despite the harsh words John had said to him hours ago, words that bursted out of him, yet when he said them, they had felt like parts of him were tearing off. Lacerating from the inside.
But Sherlock is there now, and he had been with him even when the doctor was shouting to Mary.
A few months have passed since the aquarium. Sherlock had investigated into a past Rosamund didn’t want to remember. Like for example, he had learned that Mary had betrayed AGRA and a bunch of other bad things.
Mary pointed her gun at Sherlock and John felt afraid that the detective was risking his life again, so he fired.
Together they investigated a way of exposing her, but eventually she became aggressive, so Sherlock texted him to bring the gun, and John had done it.
He had to shoot because it was the only way. Some policemen and Mycroft saw it, but no one spoke. To be more precise, Mycroft didn’t let them. After that with Sherlock, they came up with an alibi for John and made Mary the lovely wife she never was. Everything for John; but Mycroft, in fact, had done it only for his brother and the person he cared about most in the world.
And how did John repay him? He went far away from the curly man, stayed in another city and begun a new life full of sleepless nights and alcohol. Using it to think of the anger he felt at Sherlock, and at himself. Specially the hatred he felt for it.
The therapist was supposed to help him, but never did; Suddenly, one day Mrs. Hudson went to him with Sherlock and asked for his help. He was so high that John thought for an instant on not helping him and ignoring him, but in the end the doctor accepted. Then he discovered Sherlock did even that for him, always for him.
There’s a knot in John’s throat now, he feels rung dry and he can’t talk, but he must do it; Sherlock deserves it. So, John looks at the curly-haired man, because he’s moving, he’s leaving him, but when John meets the gleaming green-blue eyes of the other man, he stops.
His eyes make the doctor stop.
Oh God, tell me you are not crying, please.
So both of them don’t talk and instead look at each other for many minutes. A look full of words is an usual thing for them, but in that instant of silence John understands. It’s like thunder inside his chest. He knows why Sherlock did all those things for him: he sees.
He can read it in his pupils and in the shade of Sherlock’s wonderful eyes, but he’s not sure yet... because how can that be possible?
So, in doubt, John looks at the other man’s face. He wants to brush it, but stops himself, because he sees the wounds Sherlock has, and it’s his fault.
John remembers that moment when he punched him in the morgue. To calm him, of course, but he hit him so hard that Sherlock banged his head against the room and fainted.
He sighs as he remembers how in that moment, he wanted to punch him again and again, with no other reason but to let out his anger.
He felt guilty for this, and he tried to leave Sherlock in the hospital. But after all, he came back.
Because John Watson always returns to Sherlock Holmes.
His heart tightens by the shame of everything he had done.
«I’m sorry,»At that point, John can speak. In a little raspy whisper, but Sherlock hears him anyway. John sees that in the other’s trembling lips and he blinks.
‘Really, Sherlock? You didn’t expect apologies from me, even after what I did?’
What a perfect man he has beside him? And John knows that, he knew it very well before hell devastated the both of them.
«Forgive me for that, I swear, Sherlock. It will never happen again.» He brushes his wounds with his fingertips and Sherlock closes his eyes for an instant...then opens them again, his gaze in the glint of John’s eyes, and it’s very intense, so much that the blogger feels sucked in.
He feels emotions, so many feelings.
So John gulps and takes his hand off his face, and Sherlock looks down and sighs. Only after a few seconds, he looks up at John again and now he has a sweet expression, the sweetest one that has John’s heart warm for it.
«It’s in the past, John. Don’t worry about it.» And there, naturally, like they don’t have a life without contact, their foreheads touch. Sherlock gets close to him and John stays there, absorbing this moment where there’s only the two of them.
Their breath combines and John’s eyes close, but only a bit, because he wants to see it. He drowns into those green-blue wonderful eyes that fix him into silence. Something that wraps around his stomach and provokes sweet thoughts in his mind. John wants to touch him, but he can’t. So he waits and counts Sherlock’s breaths. He waits and enjoys this beautiful sensation: the one of being in the right place with the right person.
«Sherlock.» Involuntarily, the blogger whispers his name and something happens. Sherlock stops and shakes himself, like he’s waking from a dream. The detective moves away from John as if the doctor burns like forging steel. John feels his heart go heavy like a stone sinking deep into the water and he doesn’t understand. Because he wants this! John wants something to happen, because God, how much the blogger wants to kiss him. But now Sherlock is away from him.
Possibly I misunderstood? he thinks.
John looks at him, the detective has his gaze on the floor, he swallows and inhales a stolen breath. He has to say something, anything.
«Maybe we could go now.» Sherlock speaks before him, and the doctor frowns.
What does that bloody mean?
«Wha-»
«The cake. I deduce now that you’ve discovered when my birthday is, you will want to buy me cake and now it’s the right time to go to the shop, before it’s full of people, I think.»
The curly-haired man looks at him with an unreadable face. But John knows him and he sees the light inside Sherlock’s eyes from a moment before.
Apparently another missed moment.
John grumbles a smile and then he laughs, because Sherlock was right. Those were his thoughts before that moment between them.
He meets Sherlock’s eyes, and thinks he’s the most ridiculous but best man he will ever know.
«That’s right, good deduction. It’s your bloody birthday after all.»
_______
«For God’s sake, John! This place is absurd that’s bordering on ridiculous, for how illustrious it is. You’ve exaggerated, don’t you think?»
Drama queen John thinks with a smile, but actually, they are in one of the most eminent places in all London.
The confectionary is Peggy Porshen at Ebury Street, not that distant of Baker Street. A famous one for the unmistakable pink colour and for the sugar flower of the owner.
They’re sitting in a corner closer to the window, on the white marble table and chairs. Behind them stands a closet full of pink books and beautiful cakes.
Only John and Sherlock are there because the doctor preferred it that way. Rosie is with Molly since he texted her asking if she could possibly take the baby for a couple of hours and she agreed. So now John can dedicate himself completely to the detective, but Sherlock is a bit busy looking around amazed, because he really is astonished by this place.
But it’s his birthday! And John wants and must do something like this for him, right?
He deserves it all, he deserves to know that for John, he’s the most important person in the world and how much he really loves him... yes, he loves him like crazy.
John acknowledges that a few moments ago, when he was in Sherlock’s arms, his eyes glinting, his heart breathing quickly and nervous; the anger he felt with himself just faded and made space for the happiness he felt for that hug.
He had thought he didn’t feel like that for Sherlock anymore, be he was mistaken.
«It’s not ridiculous like your hat, I’m wondering why you wore it today.» But John knows why, and a little smile covers his lips.
«Thanks to this, they recognize me, and we have discount guaranteed.»
«Oh, of course, I apologies to Mr. Funny-deerstalker-Holmes hat, it gives us a discount on occasion.»
They laugh in a crazy manner and giggle like those times before, with a chemistry that both of them hadn’t felt for a long time. For an instant their gazes meet, Sherlock and John fixed on each other, and the rumors into the room are for their ears only.
«Sorry to bother you, but the cake is here. The speciality of this place: chocolate and meringues. Only for you, Mr. Holmes. I’ve added something, a little symbol to make this very... sweet.» The corpulent funny-faced waiter with lively eyes goes to them with a beautiful and impeccable cake, and winks to John before going.
This man is Sherlock’s big fan, and also of John’s blog. So he is not as formal as it is usually for them.
John looks at the cake and sees the symbol the waiter meant: a red heart is drawn on it, but the doctor doesn’t feel embarrassed for it...
He looks at the gaze Sherlock fixes on him, he can probably deduce something in John's reaction or expression and the doctor smiles because he wants that. Today especially, he wants Sherlock to understand.
So he takes his wrist and Sherlock blinks. Frowns in the usual face he makes when he doesn’t understand something.
«Happy birthday, Sherlock.» He whispers to him, and glances at his face. He sees Sherlock’s embarrassment from an adorable pink color on his cheekbones.
John waits a few seconds to catch the reaction, before leaving his pulse.
«Thank you, John, you’re very kind, but stop these platitudes now, please.» Sherlock has a pleading yet ironic tone, so it makes John laugh. The curly man smiles too, a wonderful one.
«Even today you’re unbearable, you know?»
«I know.»
When they get to Baker Street, Sherlock deduces from the coat missing in the hanger, that Mrs. Hudson isn’t home. So they are alone, and John is happy about that, but he suddenly feels an uncomfortable sensation and knows it’s coming from Sherlock, because he’s distant now.
In fact, the curly-haired man looks around him, anywhere but the blogger, and John feels frustrated.
Maybe I’m mistaken... he thinks and sighs.
«I have to go now.» John says and goes to the door.
But Sherlock stops the blogger. «I lied before.»
John turns to him and sees Sherlock is nearly at the stairs, with a glance full of emotions, the blogger feels those strong emotions in himself as well and his heart beats quickly.
«About the woman, about feelings. I told you romantic attachment isn’t for me, but the truth is I just didn’t want you to think of her and me like that.» He sighs and takes a few steps towards the doctor.
«Why are you telling me this, Sherlock?» He feels confused and a beautiful sensation wraps around his stomach.
«John, there’s something you must know. I have to tell you. I’ve tried three times before when we were at home... but you had to be comforted, so I waited. I should...but now I want to tell you. People surrender after three, but not me. And you must know now. I am aware that found Mary anyway, it’s alright. But I want you to know I...»
He’s very close to John’s face now and his eyes are glued to him, the blogger feels the air so charged, like it’s suffocating. In that moment, John doesn’t see anything apart from his deep-sea eyes fixed on him.
And he’s in trepidations.
«I’m in love with you, John. I’ve loved you for many years. I’m sorry, but now you’re ready to know this. I’m also aware that you don’t retu-»
«Shut up!» John interrupts him, with a fierce tone. He closes his fist and Sherlock stops and blinks, but he doesn’t dare move.
The blogger looks at him and he reads confusion on his face. So John looks at the floor pained. It’s so heavy that he feels his whole body shiver, but now he is sure.
Because John now knows that what he had felt in that embrace was true; he was right.
Sherlock opens his mouth to speak but he doesn’t say anything. He probably tries to find the right words to calm him, the doctor knows that.
But the blogger speaks first, before the detectives does again.
«God, Sherlock. How could you be sorry? How don’t you see I-» He stops an inhales. John looks at him pleading and his eyes don’t contain the tears that for years he has wanted to let pour out, for the deep love John feels for him.
Sherlock blinks again but doesn’t say anything. He looks at him unmoving and gulps in an anxious mood, John can identify that.
Anyway, Sherlock doesn’t interrupt him, he just listens.
«I loved Mary, but I stopped loving her when I find out who she really was, and what type of woman I married, a while ago. I didn’t forgive her, but I had to fake it for Rosie, the daughter that we were going to have. Even when we planned to expose her I had to pretend to love her again. But that was it, Sherlock, an act, and you know that. It was the only way to stop her and the only sincere way to protect Rosie was me being closer to Mary. I felt guilty anyway, for betraying her and I had to before, well...it was visible. But I never went back to her, I couldn’t do it and I want you to know it’s different with you. It’s always been different: you’re the best man I’ve ever known.» He brushes Sherlock’s cheek, wet by his tears, and the doctor feels his stomach twist for this adorable man.
«You mean...» And John smiles softly at the confusion of the curly-haired man, he smiles completely in love with this clever creature again confused by sentiment. He keeps Sherlock’s face in his hand and the detective looks at him with big, sweet, glinting eyes and waits.
«John.» He calls him with a soft whisper, he’s in lovely trepidations while John talks sweetly again.
«Look at me, Sherlock. Just look at me. I waited years for this moment, I’ve wanted this and I’m such an idiot for not understanding before. I’m sorry for that. You know I find difficult this sort of stuff, I’m not very good at this...but look at me now and tell me what you see. Just tell me.»
And Sherlock smiles, an amazingly bright one. «Yes.»
Slowly, their foreheads touch again and their lips brush together. They go slow because the both of them want to enjoy that moment, that they had waited and desired so many times. Before kissing in an emotional way.
And when the kiss was getting deeper, John suddenly find himself against the wall held by Sherlock, and he grips his hips. He presses the blogger to him and the wall, rubbing. So John groans and tightens his hold on Sherlock with passion.
The blogger feels arousal and chills on his skin and body. There, his back to wall with the man he loves glued to him.
«I love you.» John can only say it in a trembling whisper when they separate from the kiss, and it’s like that heavy thing fades away from his chest.
‘And God, you’re beautiful,’ he thinks when he looks at the glint in Sherlock’s eyes. He smiles at him with those lips, soft like John always thought they would be.
«And we’re idiots, both of us.» He adds with a smirk.
«Obviously. I think it’s inevitable.» He says and they both giggle, there tightened to each other in the wall that, right from the beginning, saw the start of their love.
«John, can we go upstairs now?» Suddenly whispers this in a naughty tone. John jumps when the detective’s lips kiss his neck softly.
«Oh God, yes!» His reply is quite a wheeze, with eyes closed. John brushes his curly hair.
They separate from the wall and the consulting detective looks at him, they’re kissing again and John and Sherlock are holding hands. With a sweet and horny smile, they go up to 221B Baker Street.
Hi ^_^ i hope you enjoy this, it's inspired by the one of the clever theory i ever read Aliby Theory and by this .
The three moments when Sherlock try to tell to John he loves him:
- In HLV
- TEH
- And TLD
Thanks to everyone read or feedback ^_^