Chapter Text
John wakes up, and slowly becomes aware of his surroundings. He’s in Sherlock’s room. In Sherlock’s bed. He panics for a second, but then he remembers; this is intended.
Today is Boxing Day. John and Rosie had come over to 221b last night, to celebrate Christmas with Sherlock, Greg and Molly. Everyone had planned to go back to their own home, but the bad weather surprised them, and they had all decided to shelter at 221b.
So now Molly is in John’s old room, together with Rosie, Greg took the sofa, and John is sharing Sherlock’s bed. It’s a King Size, which means plenty of room for two people, so it just made sense, right? Just two friends, sharing a bed…
John didn’t drink too much last night, so he doesn’t have a hangover, but his throat feels dry, and he can’t suppress a small cough, which in turn turns into a small coughing fit.
“Morning, John,” he hears Sherlock say, “are you alright?”
Ohhhh, that voice. “Yeah, just a slightly sore throat…”
“Hmm, I’m not surprised, with how much you snore.”
John turns around, intending to say “Oi, I don’t snore!”, but when he sees Sherlock’s face, all he can say is “Oi!”, before his breath catches.
Sherlock’s face is soft and pink. He has a boyish smile on his face, his hair stands out, and he is the most beautiful person John has ever seen.
Oh, God. John is smitten. After everything that happened after Mary’s death, it had taken him a while to see Sherlock as a friend again, let alone as a love interest. John had often wondered if their friendship would ever go back to the way it was before Mary’s death. Recently, however, things had been good between them. John had also realised that he never really stopped loving Sherlock, despite everything. And the way Sherlock looks at him right now, totally unguarded, makes John suspect that the feeling is perhaps mutual. Sherlock Holmes might actually love John. The thought makes him giddy…
“Did you sleep well, John?” Sherlock asks. “My apologies, the arrangements were not ideal.”
“Actually, I slept like a baby,” John sighs contently, propping himself up on one arm, “my bed is nowhere near this good. How about you?”
“Haven’t slept this well in a long time. Maybe I should have you in my bed every night”.
Okay, Sherlock clearly didn’t intend to say that. His smile fades and it looks like he’s panicking.
“Well, with a bed this good, I might take you up on your offer.” John jokes, hoping it helps Sherlock calm down.
“Haha, can you imagine, you coming back to Baker Street, and Rosie living here…” Sherlock laughs sheepishly, clearly relieved at John's retort.
“I can,” John replies.
Sherlock is surprised. “You can?”
“Yeah, totally. She loves it here. She loves Mrs. Hudson. She loves you.”
Sherlock’s face softens. “I’m also very fond of Rosie. but do you really think this would be a suitable place to raise Rosie in? There are all my books and equipment, and she’d need her own room, and my scientific experiments aren’t always safe…”
John sits up. “Would you like for me to move back in, though? With Rosie? Because I can understand that you’re not keen on the idea of sharing your home with a toddler…”
“No, John, that’s not it, I would love nothing more…”
John, feeling emboldened, starts making his case. “I mean, we could rent 221C. Use it for your science equipment. Create a lab there. Use the rest of it for storage. Put Rosie in my old room…”
Sherlock sits up as well. He looks hopeful.
“Again, like I said, if you don’t like the idea of…” John starts.
Sherlock cuts him off. “Yes, I do! Like the idea, I mean. Very much so! But if Rosie gets your old room, where would you sleep?”
“Didn’t you just say that you would have me in your bed every night?”
“John, you shouldn’t joke about this”. Sherlock looks upset.
“I’m not,” John quickly says. “I’m really not.”
He tentatively puts his hand on Sherlock’s.
“I’m very serious about this.” John takes a deep breath. “Okay, I’m going to tell you something, and I don’t know how you will react, but for my own sanity, I have to tell you.” Another deep breath. “I love you, Sherlock.”
He looks at Sherlock’s face. Worried that Sherlock might get angry, maybe throw him out.
“Please, John, don’t joke about this…” Sherlock almost whispers. There are tears in his eyes.
Well, we can’t have that, John thinks. He grabs Sherlock’s face with both hands, and speaks softly. “I’m not, Sherlock! I really do love you! I know I’ve been angry with you, so angry, for such a long time, and it took a while before we were okay again, and I know I keep telling everyone that I’m not gay, and I’m not, but I’ve loved you for…I don’t know how long, and I never stopped loving you!”
Sherlock stares into John’s eyes for a few seconds, and then grabs both of his arms, finally convinced of John’s feelings for him. “I love you too, John. I always have.”
John laughs, a wave of relief washes over him. “God, we’re a couple of idiots, aren’t we?” he says, and he kisses Sherlock. Just a chaste kiss on the lips, a promise of what’s to come. Sherlock leans in, clearly wanting more, but John stops him.
“Let’s keep it PG for now, alright? It’s already past nine, Rosie will want her dad soon, and I don’t know if I can stop once we get going. But soon, okay? Also, maybe let’s not tell anyone yet. I’d like to get used to the idea of us being together, first.”
“Does that mean you won’t move back in straight away?”
“Oh, no, I’m definitely moving back in as soon as possible. I have always hated that apartment, and I can’t wait to be back on Baker Street, with you. We’ll say it’s because it’s closer to my practice. And this way it’s easier for Mrs. Hudson to babysit.”
Sherlock chuckled, “Nobody’s going to believe that. They’re stupid, but they’re not THAT stupid…”
John shrugs. “I don’t care anymore what people believe, ”He hugs Sherlock, who in turn wraps his long arms around John’s waist.”, as long as I know that this is real.”
They stay like that for a few seconds, relieved, still coming to terms with everything that they discovered that morning.
“Happy Christmas, darling”, John mumbles into Sherlock’s ear.
“You too, my dearest John,” Sherlock whispers back, “my best Christmas present, ever…”