It was Molly's wedding. She had finally moved on on Sherlock and found someone for her. The best man was about to give his speech. It all reminded Sherlock of John's wedding. Oh, how difficult it was for Sherlock to plan the wedding of one he loved so dearly, to see him marry someone else. But Mary was good, perfect for John and then she died because of him. He vowed to protect both of them. He looked at John, who was listening to the speech. John still chose to forgave him, John still chose to be his friend and that was more than Sherlock could wish for. He smiled, a sad one. The person standing beside him was so beautiful, he could reach him, run his fingers in his hair, kiss him. No what was he thinking. He left the hall and went to a secluded room to clear his mind of all these stupid thoughts. He already had more than he deserved, he shouldn't think for more.
John saw him leaving the hall. Where did he go? To solve another murder or was he just bored of John's company? Should he really confess Sherlock about his feelings? What if he start hating John. It's clear Sherlock had no romantic feelings but maybe John could teach him how to love. But would he let John to teach him? No he had already made his mind. He would tell Sherlock about his feelings. Sherlock could chose what would follow. "Sir." A waiter asked, holding a tray full of wine glasses in front of him. He needed that. He picked a glass and left the hall in search of Sherlock.
"Sherlock! Here you're." John said entering a room, his glass half empty. His head was a little heavy already. The wine was working a lot sooner and a bit too much. But he was glad for this, being a little high would help him. "John." Sherlock replied.
"Sherlock, I needed to talk to you. Can I... Talk to you?" "You're a little late in asking for permission. Say it John. What is it?"
"Sherlock, I.. I wanted to say... I.." John chucked his whole drink at once, placed the glass on the coffee table at his side and continued, "Have you ever proposed someone?"
Sherlock arched his eyebrow. "How many glasses have you chucked John." Sherlock said, coming towards him. Sherlock was standing in front of John, so close John could just kiss him, his delicate lips, his sexy cheekbones. His galaxy eyes, John was lost in them. Those were encouraging John to speak. If he didn't let all those feelings out, he would drown and die in them. "I love you Sherlock." John said. Sherlock didn't say anything, didn't moved his lips, didn't even blink. "Oh Sherlock, don't do this. I said I fucking love you. Say something or I will just stop breathing right now." "I.. I love you too John." He said, no he whispered. John shook his head. "Sherlock you don't just have to say it because I said it. You can be honest with me. I won't mind. Oh god! I can't think straight. I wanted to say, I need a chance. I don't know how to say it. Sherlock will you go out with me. You're free to say no, I won't mind. Are you understand..." Sherlock stopped him in the middle by placing his hand on John's mouth." John's head was spinning now. "John, I said I love you. Not because I felt obliged to say it because you said it first. I truly love you. I've been loving you since years and I've already planned to love you till my last breath. It's not like I can stop it if I want." Sherlock smiled. "You.. you're not joking, right?" John asked. "John, I know people think I can't have feelings, even you, even I thought I couldn't. Heart just messes with mind, romantic feelings could affect my work, but I'd already let my guard down and you're already ruling my heart John, it can't go back now. You wondered about my sexuality John, it's you. It's always you John. Everything human in me is you." John stumbled. Sherlock grabbed his arms. John's eyelids were heavy. "John! Are you okay?" John smiled. " It feels like I'm dreaming. My feets can't find ground. Oh god I don't wanna wake up. Kiss me Sherlock." John tip-toed and locked his lips with Sherlock. Sherlock could feel John lips. He could taste John. The smell of John, the smell of wine and wait... Sherlock pulled away. John was shocked, his heart felt a wrench. Was he going so fast. He was in horror, did he ruined it.
"John!" Sherlock's voice seemed so distant. "John! No!!." Sherlock left one of John's arm and John lost all his balance. He saw Sherlock talking to someone on phone. "Mycroft! Ambulance now!" John fell. Sherlock sat beside him. Was he crying? "John, the wine is poisoned." It sounded like Sherlock was shouting from a closed box. Sherlock put John's head on his lap. "John stay with me. Everything will be alright." He was crying. Sherlock leaned over John to... To kiss him? John blocked Sherlock's lips with his hand. "Please..." Sherlock begged. "No." It came out lower than John had expected. Sherlock was getting blurred, light was dimming, it was black, all black.
"John! John! No you can't leave me." Sherlock looked at the glass on the coffee table, still having some wine at the bottom. He stood up, picked the glass drank the remaining liquid. "If you go, I'm coming with you John." It was not enough, he needed more poison. He paced in the room, searching for it. He sat down beside John again, his John. He placed one of his hands in John's hair, running his fingers gently. Looking at him like he's his world. Indeed his world, right now crumbling. He leaned and kissed John, running his tongue inside John's mouth, taking as much poison as he can. What a wonderful way of dying, kissing his love, tasting him. He didn't remember much. Some people pulled him away from his John, sound of chopper, hospital room, doctors and then everything black.
Sherlock opened his eyes to find Mycroft sitting beside him, giving him a concerned look. "How're you feeling brother mine." Sherlock didn't answer. "You knew he had been poisoned..." Mycroft said waiting for an answer. When he didn't get one he continued," you were found kissing him... Why, brother?" "Because I wanted to die with him, Mycroft. But you had to interrupt, ofcourse. Why? Because of you he left me alone. My John is gone." Sherlock was angry but then he covered his face with his hands. He was crying. "I want John back brother. I don't wanna live without him. Just give me some poison and fix what you've ruined." Mycroft was looking at his brother in shock. He had never seen Sherlock more broken. "The waiter has been caught." Mycroft said, "and John is in the next room, not in his best condition but breathing." Sherlock finally looked at his brother, thinking whether to believe it or not. Suddenly he got out of his bed and rushed to the next room. John was there, wearing oxygen mask. "Doctors said he'll wake up in few hours. Nothing serious but the medicines had seductives." Mycroft said, standing beside Sherlock. Unexpected to Mycroft, and Sherlock as well, Sherlock hugged his brother. "Thanks brother mine. Thankyou." Sherlock was crying on Mycroft's shoulder. Mycroft rubbed his back hoping it would give some comfort to his little brother.
It was too bright at first. John had to blink his eyes several times to adjust his eyes. Sherlock was holding John's hand. " Am I dead?" "I'm here to guide you to the afterlife." Sherlock said, smiling. He brushed John's forehead with his fingers gently, his face looking so soft, caring. "Oh god! Then I must really be going to hell." Both chuckled. "Wait you kissed me. Are you okay? Did you got yourself checked?" A worried John asked. "I'm fine John. And I just remembered, we have a kiss due." "Oh, Sherlock, come here." They continued their kiss. This kiss was not cursed with death but was holding promises of love and togetherness.