Thanks to MapleLeafCameo for looking over this for. Her suggestions made this piece a lot better, and longer! lol Also, I don't own them so I can't profit from writing about them.
Sherlock walked into the living room squinting against the sunshine coming through the front windows. After throwing himself down on the sofa, he reached out to grab his mobile. Seeing no new emails he glanced at the time before tossing his blackberry onto the coffee table in front of him. Just after one in the afternoon meant John was at work.
Sherlock stared at the ceiling. He didn't like it when John was at work. Over the years, especially while he was 'gone', the detective had found out just how much the doctor meant to him. Not just as a friend but as someone Sherlock wanted to be close to him in a way he never had been to anyone else before. While a part of him wanted to tell his flatmate, he was reminded of the many times John had vehemently told people they weren't a couple.
Hoping some music would help with his thoughts, Sherlock made his way to his violin. He stopped when an envelope bearing his name was found resting on top of the case. Inside was a small card with a coloured bee on the front and the words "Will You Bee Mine?" underneath. He read the inside message.
Sherlock,
I saw this card and knew I had to give it to you. I've made reservations for dinner tonight at Angelos'. A candle will be welcomed. I hope to see you there.
John
The detective's brow furrowed as he gave himself over to thought. In the first forty-eight hours of knowing one another, John had strongly spoken against a romantic relationship with him; first to Mrs. Hudson, then Mycroft and Angelo himself. Sherlock had been present for two of the incidents and had to listen to Mycroft's taunts shortly after his meeting John.
Sherlock had not been lead to believe the doctor's feelings had changed considering the line of women who had made appearances before quickly disappearing due to their dislike of the lifestyle the two men led. John had continued to correct people's opinions of their relationship status so the detective had attempted to push away the romantic thoughts that had begun to linger in the room assigned to John in his Mind Palace.
After being apart for nearly two years, Sherlock had been convinced of his amorous feelings toward his best friend but felt it best to continue as they had before. After all, it was better to have John with him at 221B as his best friend then to reveal any changes that might cause John to feel awkward and, therefore, leave Sherlock's life all together.
But now, three months after his return, John had chosen to leave this envelope in a place he knew Sherlock would find after waking up. The image on the card itself said John had chosen something he knew his flatmate would love. Sherlock fondly ran his hand over the image of the small bee.
Angelo's could easily be seen as a place of little importance. They did go there quite frequently when in need of sustenance. However, it was the first place they had gone to together and the mention of a candle was certainly a clue not to be missed! No candle had graced their shared table since John had forced it back into Angelo's hand five months after their meeting.
Sherlock's hands tightened on the paper in excitement. If one took the card, its message, the place of their expected dinner, along with the promised presence of a candle then there was only one conclusion to reach.
"Once you've ruled out the impossible, whatever remains – however improbable – must be true," he whispered.
With a happy grin on his face and instrument forgotten, Sherlock flew into his bedroom to dress. Waiting to see John until dinner was not an option. A visit to the clinic was most definitely in order. He threw on his purple shirt and black trousers before hurriedly lacing his shoes. Taking a moment to glance in the mirror, Sherlock combed his fingers through his impossible hair.
Once he was fully dressed, with coat and scarf in place, Sherlock made his way to John's place of work.
Happily, there were only two people waiting to be seen when he walked in. The detective knew it would be easier to keep John's attention if no patient immediately needed him. Walking towards the examining room his flatmate was normally assigned, Sherlock met Sarah.
"Come to drag John off on another case?"
After the pool incident, Sarah had made her views on the two men's lives well known.
"No, actually I'm here to talk to John about something personal. Not that it is any of your business."
Not one to back down, Sarah replied, "Since he is here right now it is my business. But I want you gone as soon as possible so go in and sit down. John will be back from his break any time. However, I expect you to be leaving in five minutes."
Not waiting for an answer, Sarah walked off.
Already deleting their conversation from his mind, Sherlock unbuttoned his coat and undid his scarf. Nothing new hung on the walls so he sat on the examining table and waited. Deciding it couldn't hurt to tease John a bit, Sherlock smiled when the doctor came in.
Surprised to be met with a person in the room, John briefly stepped back. Realizing it was Sherlock, a slightly nervous expression took over John's face.
"Sherlock, what are you doing here?"
"I've been feeling a bit odd lately and though I should have it looked at."
Concerned, John hurried over. "What do you mean odd? How long has it been going on? Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Slipping into doctor mode he reached for his stethoscope.
Sherlock bit back a grin as he shrugged off his coat. "At times there are strange flutterings in my stomach or heart area when a certain person is near. I find myself growing warm too, as though the room's temperature had risen. I find it has bothered me for six months now."
Slipping into 'doctor mode,' John reached to take Sherlock's arm, "six months?"
"Well, I must be honest and say it has plagued me for closer to three and a half years. However, the symptoms were confirmed while I was away."
"Over three years?" John looked at his watch as he kept track of Sherlock's pulse rate. "Is there any history of heart disease in your..."
John's voice faded as he finally put together all the information he had been given. Deciding to take a chance and see if he was correct in his findings, he moved his thumb back and forth to stroke the wrist nearby.
"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" he repeated, softly.
Shivering at the feel of skin sliding against skin, Sherlock leaned forward. "When one has wanted something they have never wanted before, it can be difficult to believe it will be reciprocated."
Refusing to waste more time, John reached up and kissed his love. Despite being a novice, Sherlock was a dedicated student. His hands moved to gently cradle John's skull as he returned the wonderful kisses being gifted to his lips. Strong arms encircled the detective as he opened his mouth to the tongue requesting entrance. Both men moaned as their tongues met.
Soon breathing was necessary and they were startled by a knock on the door.
"Five minutes is up!" Sarah called.
Sherlock scowled.
"I'd better get back to work." John regretfully pulled back.
"If you must, I suppose you must."
Chuckling, John made his way to the door as Sherlock put his coat back on. They turned to face one another for a moment.
"Well, I'll meet you at Angelo's for dinner. Try not to blow up the flat while I'm gone," he ordered fondly. "I'd hate for anything to happen to your shirt."
Sherlock looked at himself. "My shirt?"
"Yes, this shirt happens to be my favourite. In my head I nicknamed it 'the purple shirt of sex' and I'd hate for it to be damaged." John ran his hand down the top buttons.
Unable to hold back, Sherlock leaned down and kissed his John once more until the poor man's legs began to grow unsteady. Throwing a flirting smile at his doctor, Sherlock left the examination room whistling.
So here is the Valentine 221B that grew. ;-)