Chapter Text
~John~
It had been 2 months since Sherlock had returned, and John still couldn’t quite believe it. Just the fact that he was once again waking up in his old room in Baker Street seemed like a blessing after he had moved out during Sherlock’s....absence.
Just thinking about the last two months made John’s head spin – remembering the initial shock and anger at seeing Sherlock stood outside his front door, his disbelief only subsiding after his fist had confirmed that Sherlock was indeed standing before him. It had only taken a week for John to move in, although things weren’t quite back to normal, and the air between them still seemed charged with...something. Something that John didn’t want to put a name to just in case.
He would have liked to remain with his thoughts for longer, when he suddenly realised that he couldn’t hear anything from downstairs.
Not.
One.
Thing.
No violin. No kettle. No papers.
No sign of life of any kind.
Suddenly, John was recalling other memories – the days like this that he had woken up and spent a few blissful minutes thinking about Sherlock before hearing the silence and realising that his only was gone.
Those were not good memories.
However, since being back in Baker Street, Sherlock seemed to have sensed this – filling the flat with small noises every morning, just to let John know he was around. So why could John not hear anything this morning?
Assuming Sherlock was simply thinking, John made his way blearily to the living room, upon which he noticed no sign of Sherlock.
And John panicked.
John called for Sherlock, making his way rather quickly towards the door, slipping on a pile of papers that Sherlock had left scattered about as he did so.
As soon as he reached the stairs he realised how foolish he had been – for there was Mrs Hudson, looking at him with a rather amused expression, and Sherlock, with an expression he did not recognise, which was soon gone and replaced with his usual face of ‘Oh-John-aren’t-you-ridiculous’.
Stammering out a morning greeting for Mrs Hudson, and attempting to find a way to explain his actions, he was almost relieved when she interrupted...that is until she mentioned that she had always felt the same when her own husband was missing when she woke up.
“Oh, well, uh...we’re not really....I mean....”
This time John definitely was relieved to be interrupted – this time by Sherlock suggesting that he might like his first cup of coffee before continuing.
John gladly conceded, but not for the reason that Sherlock may assume. He wasn’t embarrassed because Mrs Hudson thought they were a couple – he was embarrassed by how badly he wanted it to be true, and for how long he had wanted it.
Deciding that it was probably a conversation best had in private, he extended Sherlock a not-so-smooth invitation to breakfast, allowing himself a touch of his arm, before making his way back up the stairs.
~Sherlock~ Watching John walk back up the stairs, Sherlock almost missed Mrs Hudson’s careful dismissal, and assurance that he could talk to her about whatever it was after breakfast.
Humming a noise of agreement he followed John up, knowing that he wouldn’t need Mrs Hudson’s advice later, as it appeared that John had once again surprised him.
Entering the flat, Sherlock noted that John had made no move towards the kitchen, but was instead stood by the window in contemplation. Turning his head on Sherlock’s approach he smiled a small, abashed smile and began moving towards Sherlock, who had himself began moving towards John, meeting awkwardly in the middle of the room.
They stood like this for what seemed like an age, although what was probably more like minutes, before John muttered “Sod it.”, pulling Sherlock down into a kiss.
However, caught off guard, and unused to having hands on the back of his neck (unless they were his own when he was being arrested) Sherlock jerked back – stumbling as he did so and falling, slightly ungainly, onto his chair.
It took Sherlock a moment to realise what had just happened, although in that time John had assumed he had made a mistake and was halfway through an apology when he himself was caught off guard and pulled onto Sherlock’s lap – before their lips met once again.
Sherlock being the one to instigate the kiss this time, John wasted no time in returning it – both of them wondering if the other had been harbouring these feelings for as long as they had (Sherlock had loved John for longer, although John was aware of his love for Sherlock sooner).
Eventually breaking for air, Sherlock couldn’t prevent the smile that crossed his face.
“Breakfast?”
“Lazy git.”
As John moved towards the kitchen, leaving with another quick peck, Sherlock moved towards the table, clearing enough space for the two of them to sit, smiling to himself silently, and even winking at the skull –knowing that Mycroft had lost the pool.
And if the pair had noticed Mrs Hudson’s knowing smile later that day, well...they weren’t going to say anything. After all, she had thought them together the first time she saw them.