Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock or any of these characters. BBC does.
It had been a whole year since Sherlock returned to him. John watched Sherlock from across the lab at Bart's as he squinted into a microscope and furiously scribbled notes onto a piece of paper, completely focused on whatever the hell he was experimenting with this week. Those years without Sherlock were living hell for him; thank god he was never strong enough to end it, because now he had him back. Although, not everything was the same since Sherlock's return. Their small touches have become more and more frequent and lingering, while John would love to claim it was him to begin this, it wasn't.
It had all began a week after Sherlock's return. John had handed Sherlock one of the many cups of tea he made for him daily when they were at the flat. Their hands touched and remained there for a moment longer than was necessary. John thought nothing of it at first, but then it happened again and then again, until it became a common occurrence that gave John butterflies no matter how many times it occurred. It soon escalated to hands resting on shoulders and knees when one or the other was sitting anywhere in the flat. Nothing new had happened in their relationship in weeks though. Could he really even call it a relationship?
"John would you mind coming over here?" Sherlock's voice brought John out of his thoughts and he realized that he had been pretty blatantly staring at him.
"Uh, yea sure." John got up and walked over to where Sherlock sat at a microscope.
Sherlock had dragged a stool over next to his and looked at it and then a John as if he expected John to sit.
"What do you need from me?" as soon as John sat on the stool Sherlock put his hand on his knee and turned back to his microscope. His cheeks were tinted with a slight shade of pink.
"My thoughts seem to have the ability to clarify only when you are near." Sherlock continued to look into the microscope his cheeks going an even darker shade of pink that John found endearing on him.
John said nothing as he felt that familiar tugging feeling in the bottom of his abdomen at Sherlock's words.
They settled back into their separate actions. John eventually put his hand on top of Sherlock's and entwined their fingers, he felt him stiffen from surprise at the contact but he relaxed almost instantly into his touch.
John wondered just when Sherlock was going to admit to this strange relationship. Should he just jump in and initiate a kiss to get all of their obvious feelings in the open? Or would that just overload Sherlock and cause him to run away from this? No, John wanted this to work, he would wait for Sherlock.
After a few minutes Sherlock's hand slid out from under Johns swiftly, seconds later Molly walked in.
"Oh, hello Sherlock! Do, do you need anything?" Molly was flustered as always being in Sherlock's company.
"No, not today Molly, thank you." Sherlock stood from his stool and strode over to his coat sweeping it on with those swift graceful motions that made John loose his mind. "We are done here actually, come along John." With that he swept from the room.
"Oh. Ok." Molly looked dejected, normally John would feel sorry for her, but his thoughts were previously occupied.
John grabbed his coat and rushed out after Sherlock.
The cab ride back to 221B was an unusually quiet one.
Sherlock avoided Johns gaze by watching him in the reflection of the window, the pink in his cheeks slowly draining from his face returning to its pale completion of stone. John observed Sherlock out of the corner of his eye. Why was Sherlock expressing his feeling and hiding them at the same time?
When they pulled up to 221B Sherlock paid the cabbie; momentarily surprising John with his strange hospitable behavior. When John got out of the cab Sherlock was already through the door and up the stairs into the flat.
John entered the flat to complete silence. Where was Sherlock? Usually when it was this quiet John could find Sherlock sulking on the sofa, but the curled up lanky body of a grumpy Sherlock Holmes was nowhere in sight.
Something warm suddenly grabbed John from behind.
"John." Sherlock's warm breath breathed his name into his ear.
Sherlock's breath sent shivers down John's spine. He never believed that he would hear his name come out of his friend's mouth in such a sensual manner. For a moment they just stood there, John in Sherlock's arms, both men leaning into each other.
John eventually turned in Sherlock's arms to face him. His face looked more peaceful than John had ever seen it. They locked eyes and John could see all of the colors that made up Sherlock's deep, grey? blue?, eyes that anyone could lose themselves in.
Sherlock's features suddenly had a look of fascination and nervousness, at least John thought that was what he looked like nervous, Sherlock had never been nervous about anything since John had met him. Sherlock took a deep breath and began to pull John closer to him and leaned his head in close. Right before their lips met Sherlock stopped as if he wasn't quite sure that he was doing it right. John quickly closed the distance between their lips.