A/N: I own nothing. This is based on another post I'd seen. This was meant to go up with a few others over two weeks ago but I got a really bad flu and couldn't get anything done. Sorry for the wait! Another fic related to Pause, and more fluff.
Sherlock and John have been together for a full year in exactly two days, six hours, and fifty three seconds more. Normally this would be a happy time but this pair is anything but normal. They've just had a rather vicious row over some photos Sherlock had tried to throw out. John was still a bit miffed, but not as angry about it as he had been. Sherlock had acknowledged at the time he was wrong and now was ignoring the situation since he didn't see why John wouldn't drop it already. They'd seemed to make up after the fight.
As it happens they both gladly accept a case –a six about a violent robber who leaves a half face mask behind- to distract from it and each other. This doesn't help as much as they'd like with Sherlock behaving more robotic around John than he had in months. John also was treating Sherlock differently, only speaking to him if necessary and glaring at him when he displayed an unfeeling nature to victims. By the night of their anniversary only silence passes between them. Finally, Sherlock can take it no more and breaks the ice.
"Our reservation is in a few hours. Will we be going John?"
Doctor Watson sighs and sets aside his book. "We shouldn't waste the money."
Silence once again falls on them. Both men dress quietly and make an effort to look good for their partner even though they are freezing each other out. Sherlock would say he did because John had. John would be more honest and tell you they both wanted this silliness to end so they could enjoy the date.
The pair arrives at Angelo's promptly at eight and is shown to their non-case table: a booth in the back corner. Conversation does come now that they are face to face but it is all superficial. The weather, the fridge needing cleaning, shopping to be done, the last case, etc. they grow quiet again until John's order and an empty small plate are set down on their table.
"Sherlock this is ridiculous. I don't want to fight today."
"Nor do I. You want a proper apology, so I apologize for my transgressions. Your belongings are yours to discard or keep as you see fit." Sherlock's pale hand darts out to cover one of John's warm hands resting on the table.
John blinks a few times. Caring Sherlock was a rare marvel that he savored every time he had the chance. Now overcome with guilt the doctor shakes his head. "No I'm sorry. I shouldn't have reacted so violently. I let things get too out of hand." Sherlock shrugs and motions to John's meal to indicate he should eat. John picks up the extra plate to spoon out a small portion for Sherlock, ignoring his protests. "You haven't eaten in two days. You'll finish all this before we leave." The doctor slides the plate in front of his boyfriend with a stern glare.
Sherlock sighs and picks up his fork obediently. He's learned it's a waste of brainpower to argue with the 'Captain Watson' voice.
Both of them eat in a much easier silence than before until Sherlock sets his utensils down purposefully and says in his cool, analytical tone, "I have begun to crave intimacy John. The dilemma is that I am confused and uncomfortable when shown the slightest bit of attention or affection by you."
John choked on his wine somewhere in the first sentence and is in the process of mopping the front of his shirt when his boyfriend finishes his little speech. He looks up at Sherlock unsure of how to properly respond. "Okay…alright. I don't know what to do with that. Where is this going Sherlock?"
"Context? I have been mulling over the idea of being intimate with you for some time. I've realized just now that I wish to but still balk at your affection. It's quite frustrating."
"Yeah, I'm still not following you."
"I want to have sex John. Tonight preferably. Do keep up; you know how I hate repeating myself."
"I got that bit it's just a bit surprising. Let's just get through dinner and we can talk about this later."
"No. we should discuss this now."
"Look Sherlock, If you're uncomfortable we will wait. I've told you that countless times."
"I've just said I want to," Sherlock exclaims with annoyance.
John rushes to placate him for fear of this ruining the tenuous peace they had. "Then we'll give it a go back at home." This seems to calm the detective's wrath. He picks his fork back up and finishes his meal calmly as before.
The morning comes, casting golden lights over two still figures in bed. Sherlock is the first to wake and register how tangled up they are. He's practically an octopus with his limbs everywhere. John's head lay comfortably –rather than constricting as he normally found physical contact- on his chest. He buries his face in the short blonde locks as last night plays at the forefront of his mind.
Sherlock had hated being out of his depth, but luckily John was a great teacher. They'd started slowly with the light kisses they were accustomed to. It progressed quite naturally with many detours for Sherlock's comfort. It had ended in a flurry of passion and they'd passed out not soon after –a feat in and of itself. Sherlock's brain barely let him have a full night of sleep. A smile wider than he'd had in years splits his face. His arms tighten around John as if seeking even more warmth. He realizes at last John, his John is finally completely his and he was John's just as wholly; that would never change if he could help it.
"My endorphins and oxytocin levels must still be high," He mumbles into John's hair. "The sentiment is getting to me today."
"That's fine by me, Sherlock," John mumbles sleepily.
Sherlock stiffens in surprise but soon relaxes into John again. "Go back to sleep."
