"John, what's wrong?"
"Mm, nothing. What makes you think—"
"The way you've been carrying yourself the past few days, it's stiff, like you're trying to stand firm against pressure. Your leg, traces of the limp returning. Psycho-somatic limp returning tells me that it's something going on in your mind, manifesting itself as such. Your brow, furrowed, as if constantly deep in thought. A few times within the past two days I've seen your mouth open and close as if you were to say something, but you've remained quite silent, despite the fact that we've been together night and day and you've had every opportunity to disclose to me what it is exactly that's bothering you."
John sighs, shrugs. Stares blankly at the laptop screen.
Sherlock strides across the room and shuts the computer. "What. Is it?"
John feels pinned. He looks up into those pale eyes and feels butterflies. Against the will of his mind he hears words trickle out. "I don't know what this will do, telling you… My body has betrayed me in so many ways at this point and I've got to be honest. Sherlock, whenever you are around, I can't speak."
"Well, you're speaking now, aren't you? What's this got to do with anything?"
Sherlock almost turns to go but John says, "No. It's… I like you."
"I like you, too."
"Shut up, would you? This is hard for me to get out, so wait til I've finished."
Sherlock's face pinches a bit, to focus. John is serious.
"I have feelings for you the way that I should have feelings for women. You are… stunning, and I want to be intimate with you. Maybe in some ways we already are intimate. I know that you and I understand each other in ways no one else can, and I think, because of that, we both need each other. But, I need you in other ways. I need you in all ways, always."
The pale eyes have not strayed, and of course John can't read his expression. Not for certain. A dreadfully silent minute passes before Sherlock responds.
"Alright."
"Alright, what?"
"We can try this."
"What?"
Sherlock moves now, the silk robe fluttering about his knees. He briefly looks out the window, then turns back to John. "I have no experience with romance or the types of emotions that inevitably follow." He pauses, chuckles. "Sentiment, I suppose, is one aspect of being involved with another person that I just… Well, this is how it is. I've known for a while that I feel something for you that differs from what I've felt for anyone else I've ever met. I assumed I felt what a friend feels for another friend, but then there was something else. Is something else…"
"And what's that?"
"I feel vulnerable around you, a sort of yearning to be protected by you." He scoffs. "This sounds absurd even coming out of my mouth."
"Well it makes sense to me. Vulnerable… I get that."
John stands up and walks to where Sherlock stands. There is a look of surprise on his face, it's fresh and John laughs. Sherlock cocks his head slightly as if to say, Why are you laughing? He feels the warmth of John's hand touching his face and then their mouths, softly together.
This is just the beginning.
