Sherlock Holmes was spending Saturday night in, playing violin and thinking. He was listening to Bach, 'concerto for two violins' and he was playing along. Dr. John Watson had his head buried in the newspaper, he was reading about a recent break-in at a nearby apartment. Sherlock had his eyes closed and appeared deep in concentration. John came up behind him to ask a question, he was about to tap him on the shoulder when the music reached a particularly intense part and Sherlock abruptly stopped playing and turned to face John. "I'm going to have to make a rather odd request", he started.
"Right, but I was just going to ask you about something in the paper",
"It was the flatmate, obviously. Now, I was going to ask you if you would do me a favour, this is going to sound strange, but…" Sherlock had to speak over the violin still blasting from his speakers, "You see, I've been having trouble concentrating on a particular problem and I've thought of a way to help me but I am going to need your assistance,"
"Yes?" said John.
"Well I was wondering if you would care to dance with me."
John was confused at first, Sherlock had a very serious look on his face, as if he had just asked John to help hide a body. John began to smile as he thought to himself how funny this would seem to someone if they'd just walked in on the scene.
"You see I've tried composing, then playing along and I just can't seem to focus so I truly need your help".
"You, want me, to slow-dance… with you?"
"Well I'd prefer if you didn't say that, in fact I'll probably close my eyes, but I really think a partner is necessary".
"Well, uh, yeah sure" John said with a sheepish smile. He was sceptical about Sherlock's reasons, but who was he to question? Sherlock stepped towards him sternly, took his hand, closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. He locked in frame and stepped into john, who fumbled, then tried to keep up with Sherlock's purposeful, forceful steps.
"Keep up John you're putting me off" John looked from their feet to Sherlock's face, trying to follow and study his expression simultaneously. Occasionally he would look as though he'd had a realisation, then he'd go back to a confused concentration. They circled around the room, Sherlock muttered something, John thought he heard the word "woman". They whirled around, speeding up, then as the song came to an end they stopped in the middle of the room and Sherlock stood, with his eyes still shut, with John, face to face. John went to look away, but he couldn't seem to bring himself to. As he stood there looking at Sherlock, he suddenly realised how beautiful his face was, he didn't know what he felt for him, but he couldn't help but admire him. After a few seconds of tension, Sherlock moved in and their lips met. Just as this happened, he abruptly opened his eyes.
"Oh god, I'm sorry, I didn't mean… I lost track of… I thought you were someone else, oh god…" he trailed off.
"Sherlock, its OK, I understand".
Sherlock was pacing the room, muttering with his face in his hands.
"Sherlock really, I understand it's not your fault, your mind was elsewhere, I get it".
"It's not OK, I'm really sorry John, I don't know what came over me. I'm sorry".
John sat down in his armchair and picked up the paper. After a while of pacing, Sherlock sat in his chair with his hands together in 'prayer' position. He couldn't believe what had just happened.
"Look, John, I…" Sherlock began, standing up.
"No, no", John interrupted, also standing, "I want you to know that it really is alright", he paused, "in fact, its, more… than alright, Sherlock".
Sherlock's eyes snapped to look at John, who was staring at his own feet. "I, I didn't…"
"Sherlock every time someone has said anything about, um, you and me, I have always been quick to deny, but you have never said a word, except for that one time when you told me that you weren't interested, and I have to admit, I was a little shot down".
Sherlock was glaring at John, his eyes were glazed.
"I only ever denied it so strongly because I knew that you wanted nothing to do with me, but I'm not so sure. You are, of course, the champion of deduction, but that doesn't mean that I can't tell when there's something there". His fists were clenched and there was a hint of determination in his voice.
Sherlock was looking down. "John, I…"
John stepped towards Sherlock and kissed him. Sherlock was shocked, but slowly, he closed his eyes and gave in to the softness of John's lips.
They stood, lips locked for several seconds. John brought his hand up to Sherlock's face. They kissed, deeper, harder, then finally pulled away for air.
"You've made my head spin from the day I met you John Watson. I didn't understand it, but now I do".
John smiled, then Sherlock smiled, soon they were grinning together; then giggling.
"To think we've gone this long, both feeling the same way, and not doing anything about it" John said.
He sighed, then leant his head into Sherlock's chest. Sherlock looked down at him and couldn't help breathing in his scent, he smelt of shaving cream, coffee and shampoo, possibly strawberry, Sherlock noted. Meanwhile, John was doing the same, Sherlock smelt just like 221B, musky and comforting. Sherlock slowly wrapped his arms around John, it felt so strange to him, but so right. Finally Sherlock could hold the man that drove him crazy, his man, his John.