Work Text:
They don’t talk about love, much -- because, well, Sherlock. Whenever John catches himself hankering after normal relationship talk, though, he reminds himself that normal would mean not with Sherlock, and that is just not on.
Besides, he doesn’t really need to hear it, does he? Actions speak louder than words – and he could write a book about all the things Sherlock does that mean he loves John.
John doubts that anyone else would recognize them for what they are. If you weren’t John Watson, it probably wouldn’t occur to you that a freezer-bag of toes in the crisper means I love you enough to refrain from storing body parts in your Tupperware. You would probably not guess that the grudging consumption of one slice of toast and half a boiled egg means I love you enough to humour your ridiculous insistence on eating at least every day. You might not realise that when, after working a week’s night-shifts at A&E, you miss your favourite woolly jumper, and find it stuffed under Sherlock’s pillow, it means I miss you when you’re not here. And you almost certainly would miss the obvious fact that when Sherlock pauses in the doorway, looks back at you, and says, impatiently, “Well?” it means I love my work, but without you, it would all be boring.