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"John, there's something... I should say. Something I've meant to say always but then never have... Since it's unlikely we'll ever meet again, I might as well say it now."
Sherlock paused, his heart pounding in his throat. It shouldn't be this hard.
"I love you," Sherlock breathed, his voice stronger than he felt.
"I know." John smiled warmly.
"No, John, I don't think you understand-"
"Yes I do. For once in my life, I do understand."
"How- How did you know?"
"I didn't know, I noticed."
Sherlock laughed; a real, honest laugh that brought his face to life.
"Come here, you idiot." John opened his arms and embraced Sherlock, not letting go when it took a minute for Sherlock to respond. But when he did, Sherlock wrapped his arms around John and nosed his way into the crook of his neck. The tip of his nose was cold, but John only held him tighter, making a soldier's attempt at keeping a stiff upper lip. Sherlock was trying to memorise the smell of John; tea, grass, drugstore shampoo, and just an earthyness that was John.
"I love you, too."
Sherlock's fingers tightened around the fabric of John's jacket in response before pulling away. He pulled his glove off and stuck out his hand.
"To the Very Best of Times, John."