The End of Almost
Summary: This would be everything unspoken, finally released into the universe. Johnlock.
A/N: What I wanted for them.
When Mary's video message had ended, there was a heavy silence that filled the flat. John's eyes were moist, and Sherlock felt as though his heart was pounding in his throat.
I know all you can become.
"John."
"Yeah, Sherlock?"
Both men were staring straight ahead, not yet willing to face each other. "John, I want you to know that I know you loved Mary. Completely, totally. And I loved her too."
John finally turned towards Sherlock. He wasn't sure how the conversation might progress, but he knew that this was It. This would be everything unspoken, finally released into the universe.
"John, I'm telling you this because I would never dream of betraying Mary's memory, or making you feel as though you were doing so. But this message. I know now that Mary understood. This message is her -"
"It's her blessing," John finished.
Sherlock finally looked at John. His eyes were shining. "I never wanted to make your life complicated. But after everything with Eurus, I've realized the damages that a repressed life can cause. You have stood beside me, John, and I have almost told you on so many occasions. The timing is still far from perfect, but life, as we know, is sometimes cruelly short. And I am sick to death of almosts. John, I -"
John raised a hand to silence him. Sherlock's heart sank. John wasn't going to let him say it. Perhaps it was all for nothing, after all.
"That's enough, Sherlock. It's my turn now."
Sherlock waited, his breath held tight in his chest.
"Sherlock Holmes. God knows I have been to Hell and back with you," John said. "I have watched you die. I have mourned you and I have had my bloody heart broken by you. So if you think for one second that I'm going to let you be the first to say 'I love you,' you damn well better think again."
Sherlock blinked rapidly, not quite sure that he had heard properly. He had been prepared for the worst, and nothing else.
"I-John, do you mean to say-?"
"I am saying it. I love you, Sherlock. I am in love with you. You're right. Mary understood. Sometimes I think she knew me better than I knew myself."
"How long have you been...?"
John shrugged. "Lines got blurred somewhere along the way. You've always been my best friend, and I thought it was that kind of love for a time. But...it's more. And you're not the only one tired of almost."
Sherlock smiled. It was different than he had always imagined it would be. It was better. Of course, he felt a little out of his element. "So, um, what happens now?"
John smiled and placed a hand on Sherlock's cheek. "Oh, Sherlock. Come here."
And then John was kissing him. It was tentative at first but when he felt Sherlock reciprocate, it was urgent and long and breathtaking. Hands were lost in each other's hair. Hearts were pounding in synchronization.
After ages, or so it seemed, they pulled away. They were both flushed and beaming. Sherlock smirked at John. "Still not gay then?" he asked.
John glared playfully. "Oh, shut up, Sherlock."
And since John was pulling him into another kiss, Sherlock could do nothing but obey.
