Work Text:
“Thank you, John and Sherlock,” calls Shreya, the bookshop manager over the applause of the crowd, “for that splendid reading. Now I think we have time for a few questions from the crowd. Does anyone have any questions for John or Sherlock?”
All around the shop, hands go up among the people who have gathered to listen to John and I talk about John’s book (John is beaming)(mmmm)(he’s developed a writerly tendency of delighting in going on about his work)(very charming). Give his shoe a tiny kick, and he kicks back.
“Ooh, gosh! Lovely, all right. I’ll just come round with the microphone, then.”
The first person Shreya reaches with the microphone takes it eagerly, but stands silently clutching it for a moment, shifting from foot to foot, their gaze flicking back and forth between John and me, “I.” They make a little cough, then spill out in a hurried, sweet, anxious voice, “Your book helped me realise that I. I’m gay. And I don’t really have a question, but thank you. Thank you for writing it.”
John reaches for my hand (I’m reaching for his also, and we meet in the air and it’s ridiculous)(and also it’s perfect) and presses it (his face is glowing like a meteor), “Well, thanks! Thanks for sharing. Er. Welcome aboard.”
“Good to have you,” I offer.
The fan blushes, “Thanks.”
“What’s your name?” John asks.
“Erm, it’s Mal.”
John smiles, “Lovely to meet you, Mal. Thanks for reading and for coming out tonight. Do you want a signed copy?” He turns to Shreya, “Can we do a signed copy for Mal?”
“Of course! If you go to the information table, Ana will look after you. Was there anyone else with a question? Ah yes, I see you, here I come!”
The next person doesn’t take the microphone from Shreya, but leans awkwardly toward it and speaks into it a little too loudly, so that at first her voice echoes a bit, “This question-ooh sorry-this question is for Sherlock.” Nod to her to continue. “Right, erm. So you said, or John said, that you don’t believe in love at first sight, but it seems like. You fell in love with John straight away? Or you did ask him to move in with you straight away, and you asked him to work with you straight away, and those are both quite, well intimate requests, and I was just wondering. How you knew? How did you know at once that you wanted John to be your partner?”
“Ooh,” John chins his hand, “Good one. I’m quite keen to hear the answer to that, actually.” The crowd titters, and John grins along with them. “How did you know, Sherlock? Was it my stunning good looks?”
“Yes, actually. Next question?” The crowd laughs again, and I shake my head, “Only joking of course. That was only about four percent of it. That bit’s not a joke. Don’t laugh at everything I say, or we’ll never get through this.” They laugh anyway, but I carry on and talk over the laughter, “Er, well I think probably most important qualities in a partner are someone who respects you, someone who’s honest with you. Someone who enjoys you. Those are the main things, if you’re pressing me for advice. The last one is very important. Enjoy each other.”
“Ooooh,” John says suggestively, rocking toward me a bit in his chair. “Enjoy each other. Fantastic advice.”
“Children present, John. Get your mind out of the gutter.”
John strokes my arm (how is it still so lovely to have John’s hand light and gentle on me?)(stupid question, it’ll always be lovely), “You haven’t answered the question, you know. Did you do that on purpose?”
Raise an eyebrow, “Do you have an answer? I’ve told it you before, I’m sure.”
John looks at the fan who asked the question, “He told me it was because I let him borrow my phone.”
“That’s all?” asks the fan, looking at me.
“I got a lot out of that,” I tell her. “A lot. He didn’t need to be patient and generous with me, but he was. He is.” Look at John, and he’s already looking at me (nearly lose my train of thought at his expression). “It helps. It makes things. Easier. But honestly, I suppose you might say I guessed, and I guessed well. Or rather. I hoped. It was a leap of faith. John. Caught me.”
“Don’t make me blub in public,” John says in a stage whisper behind his hand. The audience laughs, but John’s eyes are bright above his hand, and he blinks hard. “Turnabout is fair play, you know.”
Lean in to kiss him, “Come and get me, Montresor. I’m ready for you.”