It was a Sunday, not any particular Sunday. There was nothing special about that day whatsoever. Sherlock was walking around in his sheet, as per usual. John was trying to ignore his attraction towards his roommate, as per usual. John was trying to read what the tattoo on Sherlock's lower side said, as per usua- wait, Sherlock has a tattoo? When did that happen, and what does it say?
The good doctor followed the detectives movements as he wandered around the flat, exasperated by the boredom that had struck him due to the distinct lack of cases- interesting ones at least. John had long since realised that Sherlock would always know when John looked at him, even if it were for just a moment, so he had decided that it no longer mattered if he were caught. The soldier made sure that he was not caught watching the detective in a sexual way, rather he followed the path tracked across the floor but he did not hide the looks as he had (tried) to before.
Sherlock suddenly spun around, facing away from John, the quick movement causing the sheet to shift slightly lower on his hips and it was then that John noticed the black ink on his flatmates skin, the unmistakable sign of a tattoo. Try as he might, the sheet kept most of the tattoo obscured leaving John frustrated as he tried guessing what the tattoo could possibly be. After half an hour or so John decided that he would take a different approach, he would be bolder in his approach to discover the design, and with this idea he slowly stood and made his way to stand silently behind Sherlock as the detective paused to look out the window.
"Sherlock-"
"What?"
"You have a tattoo."
"Once again your observational skills astound me Doctor Watson." Sherlock shifted the sheet so that is covered the whole of the tattoo, seemingly unaware that it had previously been on show, but that was the only indication he gave that it was anything out of the ordinary. The relationship between the two of them had not yet returned to the same point that it was in before Sherlock but it was getting there, it was clear that there were still some things that the man was hiding from John. It had taken months for John to learn of the torture that his flatmate went through for him, the scars that made up the once smooth skin on this friends back broke his heart each time that he saw them but he knew that Sherlock allowing them to be seen was a symbol for the relationship returning to what it once was so he never said a word about them.
"Fine." John turned and started to walk away before he felt Sherlock taking a tentative hold on his wrist causing him to pause.
"I- I'm sorry John." With these whispered words the doctor looked back and saw that Sherlock had averted his gaze to look at the floor. Unwilling to talk to the Consulting Detective like this, John took back his hand making Sherlock curl in on himself even more, until he felt calloused fingers under his chin, lifting his head until he met the eyes of the shorter man.
"Don't be. I was shocked you had a tattoo is all, I'd not seen it before. Look, it doesn't matter, you do not have to show me it, or tell me anything that you do not want."
"It was to remind me while I was away just who I was doing it for and who I would be coming back home to." At these words Sherlock ducked his head as he moved the sheet down his hip a couple of inches, revealing the entirety of his tattoo.
John took in the sight of the taller man ducking in embarrassment and felt somewhat guilty for being the cause before his gaze moved down to the man's hip and took in the curly, black writing that took their home there. 'John Watson'.
"Sherlock, I-"
"It was done on an impulse, one I am now stuck with I'm afraid. I'm sorry, it's probably not something that roommates normally do, get the other's name tattooed on them but I needed it. That permanent reminder of you was perhaps the only thing that kept me going, even when I wanted to give up on my mission, on everything, on life, but I kept going for you. For the thought that I might one day make it back here to see you once more."
"I'll say it again, don't be sorry. I'm not angry, or mad, or anything like that. If anything, I'm thankful, I'm so pleased that you didn't give up and that you did it- you came back to me. If I had even the slightest thing to do with that then I am blessed for there is nothing more special in my life than you and I got to save you." John wrapped his arms tightly around Sherlock in a close hug which Sherlock tentatively returned before relaxing into it and holding the doctor just as close.
"Thank you John."
"My absolute honour Sherlock." The two men pulled back so that they were no longer holding one another but not so far that they couldn't reach one another still. After standing, simply watching one another, for a few minutes John took Sherlock's hand and lead him over to the sofa before sitting down and pulling Sherlock down next to him. The genius pulled his legs up onto the sofa next to him as he leant to the side and rested his head on John's right shoulder, shutting his eyes as he felt an arm wrapping around him from the shorter man. A small smile graced the faces of both men as they sat on the sofa in companionable silence, Sherlock slowly drifted off into a peaceful slumber, one he had not known since before he jumped and even then it had been very rare.
John's smile widened as he realised that Sherlock had fallen asleep and decided that he would leave him there to get some well needed rest, carefully reaching for the blanket to tuck over the sleeping genius before resting his own head in the detective's curls and closing his own eyes in slumber.
Sherlock awoke the early the next morning only to find himself still using John as a pillow, a blanket laying over his curled up body (obviously placed there by John) and a sleeping doctor, oblivious to the world around him. He would claim that he continued to remain there so that he didn't wake the other but in reality Sherlock was relishing in the simple comfort offered through the human contact with the man that he had lived for. It was only then that he realised that he was curled up against John, still only wearing his bedsheet and with a blanket to maintain any additional modesty and warmth that it could. When John started to subconsciously roll his shoulders as he woke up, Sherlock shifted away, worried he may have been hurting the man's shoulder, only to be pulled back with the arm still around him.
In the end Sherlock relented and moved back over towards John but moved so he was led with his head on John's legs and long, slender fingers drawing simple patterns on John's knee while the man slowly awoke. He knew the instant that John became fully awake and aware of their positions as he felt fingers running through his curls.
"Morning."
"Morning John."
"Sleep well?"
"Yes, thank you, yourself?"
"Very much so. You certainly seem less manic at the moment?"
"I find myself to be rather comfortable at the moment. If a case comes up that will be perfect but right now I am content where I am, if you don't mind me being here that is?"
"Right here sounds amazing to me." Once again the men shifted into a comfortable silence and they remained in their positions. When John began to subtly shift after roughly 20 minutes Sherlock moved so that John was able to stand and he quickly went off to the toilet. Upon his return to the living room John noticed that Sherlock had moved so that he was led completely out across the sofa rather than in a ball, with the blanket covering him, one side of which he held open for John to get under and lay out with Sherlock which he soon took up the offer of.
The two men stayed on the sofa all day, talking, occasionally getting up to make tea or go to the toilet, but they always returned back to the sofa, to one another, and would continue talking. John would occasionally wrap his arm around Sherlock if he were the one against the back of the sofa, he claimed it was because he wanted to make sure Sherlock didn't fall off of the couch but in reality he just liked the thought of the tattoo resting just below his arm, the idea that that little mark could have had such a big role in saving Sherlock's life.
"Do you know Sherlock, there is another thing that roommates don't normally do which I made the mistake of doing?"
"What's that then John?"
"They don't normally fall in love with the person they live with, and I'm afraid I've done exactly that."
"Why John, that is entirely unacceptable. Although I'm sorry to say that I've done the same."
"You- you what?"
"I love you John Watson."
"Oh."
"Oh shit, was that wrong? What did I do? I'm sorry. I'll take it all back if you want, just, please, tell me what I said wrong."
"Nothing is wrong. I just, never expected you to say it back, I never thought that you would feel the same way for me as I do for you. I love you too Sherlock Holmes."
"You never thought I would feel the same way?"
"Self-proclaimed sociopath and all that."
"John, I got your name tattooed on my hip to remind me of what I had to come home to and you doubt that I would feel the same way as you do? You don't just get any old person's name tattooed on your body."
"Of course you don't get any name tattooed, you get the name that means the most. The name of the one that you could never live without."
"Exactly."
"A name like John Watson?"
"Yes."
"Or indeed Sherlock Holmes."
"What are saying? You don't have to get my name as proof of anything."
"I know I don't have to, although what I am saying is that it is too late for me not to."
"What?"
"I don't think I can make it much more obvious."
"Show me?" John hesitated and worried his lip between his teeth a little while he made up his mind. Once the decision was made John did not hesitate to remove his jumper in fear of changing his mind and hiding the tattoo from the man for as long as he humanly could. With the jumper out of the way Sherlock silently asked for permission before undoing the buttons on John's shirt one by one until he could see the beginning lines of the tattoo on the man's chest. Pushing it to the side, Sherlock gave a small grin as he saw the yellow smiley face he had painted on the wall recreated over John's heart, containing the words he would make sure John always knew to be correct; 'I Believe In Sherlock Holmes' in their solid black ink, refusing to be lost from sight.
Bending down, Sherlock placed a chaste kiss against the words over John's heart before letting the man's shirt fall back over the script and standing with his arms on John's shoulders, looped behind his neck, while he rested his forehead against that of the shorter man.
"-And it would seem that I was right to do so. After all, Moriaty was real and you gave me one last miracle, you came back to me."
"You are far too good for me John Watson."
"Alas, I fear I am actually not enough. You deserve the world Sherlock."
"I have though John, I have the world. YOU are my whole world."