Work Text:
They sit facing opposite ways these days.
There isn’t much a mystery behind it, Sherlock enjoyed watching the flames within the fireplace as he solved crimes and John prefered to feel its warmth against his back as he blogged or read.
They didn’t used to face each other.
Sherlock’s forever-cold fingers and lack of regard with danger had him put his chair too close to the fire, while John knew a risk when he saw one. Sherlock would also sometimes throw in little pieces of paper or liver into the fireplace, and had to be close if he wanted to see what colour it burned.
They sit facing each other now.
It was a slow transition, John growing colder with age and Sherlock shifting in his seat too much for any sort of stability. But now they actually look at one another when they talk, rather than at flames and novels or livers and blogs.
They don’t know what changed.
John is used to being yelled at from across the flat, or ignored for days because of Sherlock’s latest sulk, being face-to-face, or lack thereof, has never been a problem. Now that they face each other, they refuse to shout across the flat or type when talking or look into a microscope while asking for mobiles.
They know what’s changed.
This has been a decade-long process, their shifting chairs. The last five or so, John hasn’t bothered trying to get a girlfriend. The last three or so, Sherlock has labeled everything in the fridge. They’re too old now for high-speed chases, so most of the cases Sherlock takes are from within the flat, though occasionally John will make him leave the flat for Angelo’s.
Now that John’s retired and Sherlock is still Sherlock, they don’t find much need to leave the flat, because all they really need is each other.
They need more change.
“John?”
John immediately looked up from the laptop. “Yes, Sherlock?”
Sherlock didn’t reply, instead searched John’s face for clues.
A small smile grew on John’s face, both concerned and amused at Sherlock’s sudden confusion. “Yes, Sherlock?”
“I... seem to have grown more fond of you over the years than I once thought possible.” Sherlock looked away for the first time in years.
John’s smile grew wider, eyes refusing to waver. “I love you, too, Sherlock.”
Sherlock looked up and shared a new kind of smile with John before returning to watch the flames in the fireplace. John paused to smile at the ceiling a bit before returning to the blog.