Her words made an echo in his head. He had to stop to catch his breath. She was right. They were a couple after all, on a certain way. It's not that he hadn't thought about it. He didn't want to see it. There was a smirk in his face. The thought of it, made him happy. He had stopped denying what was so blatantly in front of his sight. His legs trembled a bit. It was love.
John Watson had been so alone all his life. Girlfriends had come and gone, but nothing that actually meant something. They were nothing that made his heart a fluttered. Jeanette was right too. She could see right through it just like The Woman. He would do anything for him and the feeling was indeed heartwarming.
Though Sherlock always said that feelings were boring and unnecessary, it was a relief to catch a glance of spark on his eyes towards someone. But it hurt. It really hurt the poor army doctor's heart, like embers burning him slowly. He wanted Sherlock's eyes to sparkle at the sight of him, to acknowledge him, to desire him; he wanted to see Sherlock trying to impress him. He longed for his touch, and his only. He wanted to feel him in his arms and to comfort him. He wanted to protect him from himself, it was a danger night. The woman had hurt him, but he would be there for him, as usual, as always even if he wasn't required.
John Watson embraced himself trying to picture what an embrace from Sherlock would be like. He shook his head at the selfish thought. All he really wanted was his flat mate to be happy, even if that meant to keep his feelings for himself.
Crime came on its way. He took it on the American because he had laid a finger on Mrs. Hudson. Sherlock protected his friends, even if it didn't look like he did. John wondered if Sherlock thought of him that way, if he would protect him, as he escorted Mrs. Hudson to her flat. In silence, John wondered about what he would be willing to do if he had to protect Sherlock from danger. "I would kill for him. I think I already have"
After all the chaos had passed, the flat felt quiet but John was still uneasy. He kept on thinking about what she had said. Her words ran through his head and he sat down to watch Sherlock picking up his violin as he stared mindlessly at the window. He positioned it in his shoulder, streaking the chords. He tried to play but it didn't seem to come out right. He just froze there, until his arms dropped and the violin was no longer on sight.
John could see Sherlock's reflection. He was pale and still, like a lifeless doll. Though his face showed no emotion, it was in his eyes, where he could see that he was hurt. John knew it. Without even noticing, he was already standing right behind him. He could appreciate Sherlock's features right from where he was. The thought to running his hands through his hair and to touch his cheekbones made him shiver a bit and made his own cheeks burn. His heart crackled as he got closer.
He wanted to hold him. He wasn't sure if Sherlock actually needed a hug but he knew he did. He needed to hug him and to tell him without words that he was there for him. John's body was shaking and he realized this was the first time he was actually flustered about showing his feelings to someone else. He cursed himself silently for what he was about to do.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he got closer to him. Sherlock was still fixed in the frame, lost in his own mind. Constellations could be seen reflected in his eyes. John was there too, and he could see his ridiculous face painted in the frame right next to Sherlock's. He felt so stupid almost backed down. What if he saw him? What would he say? Those words came to his mind like a little stab on his chest. "I'm flattered John, but I considered myself married to my job" "Don't think, John Watson!"
His body was warm, contrary to popular belief of him being a cold blooded creature. John wrapped him in his arms and he could feel his warm body against his. It was surprising to feel what it felt like a beating heart. Sherlock was alive. John hold his breath. He didn't want to breathe, or move or speak. He just couldn't. He was overwhelmed by his emotions. He was so afraid to let Sherlock go and it, to never happen again. He wished for the clock to stop. He wanted to stay like that forever, feeling that warm body and that heartbeat. The heartbeat rose each second as Sherlock's eyes opened wide in confusion. He had no idea what was going on. He stood there like a lost child not knowing what to do. John rested his head on Sherlock's back.
He didn't push John away but welcomed his embrace. For a moment John thought he felt Sherlock move to turn around and hug him back until his voice broke the silence. "John…" It was a whisper. It was a soft little whisper like the purr of a sleepy cat. John opened his eyes in a flash to let him go as he moved away with his eyes on the floor, scratching his head, turning his blushed face away from Sherlock. "Its fine" Sherlock said as he walked away towards his bedroom with a tiny smirk on his face that unfortunately John could not see.
"Damn!" John cursed as he convinced himself to forget about it all. "I'm not gay! I'm not gay!"