They were checking into an old hotel in Scotland when it happened. They had traveled there for a case, despite John's protests and pleas to find a case within a closer proximity. Sherlock had insisted however, that they go to Scotland to investigate a serial killer, famous for stabbing their victims with scissors. John could never really get his flatmate to accept no as an answer, so they headed out the day after the job was brought to Sherlock's attention. The detective of course, had forgotten to think of details such as where they would sleep. So there John was, at an old hotel in southern Scotland, hoping desperately that they had a room available, while Sherlock leaned boredly against the check-in desk like a child.
Finally, a cheerful-looking woman came to help them. "Hello, are you looking for a room?" she asked in a fake peppy voice. John sighed in relief, happy to be speaking to another sane human being. "Yes, finally. I need a room for me and my friend over there." He said pointing to Sherlock, who was now standing behind him looking irritated. "Right. One king then?" she asked. John jaw ticked slightly, and his cheeks were dusted with a light shade of pink. "N-no, we're not- I mean, I'm- we aren't a couple!" he stuttered. The woman smirked at him, as if she knew something John didn't. Sherlock, observing all this, balled his fist, and uncurled them slowly, as a means of calming down. An odd expression graced the detective's features, something distinctly bad, emotion-wise. John didn't notice.
"No, it's fine, really." The desk woman said, still smiling. "We don't mind your kind here, nothing to be discreet about." John sighed angrily. "No, seriously, we're not a damn couple!" John said, raising his voice to just below a shout. A few people turned to stare, which both the doctor and detective elected to ignore. John glared at the woman like an angry teenager. She simply blinked in surprise, and muttered "Alright, two queens then." Meanwhile, Sherlock's expression had gone stony and cold, like the face he uses for interrogating criminals. "John," he said, voice tense and irritated, "I'll be outside if you need me." And with that, the genius stormed out of the hotel, and out into the rain.
John reluctantly chased after him. He found Sherlock sitting on top of a random car, looking like he was in deep thought. "Sherlock!" John called, getting the other man' attention. "What the hell was that?" he demanded. Sherlock slid off the roof of the car, and walked slowly over to John. "I left the room because I didn't want to be in it, and I didn't see a reason to stay. Why is that complicated?" he said, staring aloofly at John. The doctor sighed. "Yes, I got that Sherlock, but why did you leave? What's wrong?" he asked. It was clear that he was trying to understand, so Sherlock, in a moment of weakness, was honest.
"You were doing it again. It bothers me tremendously. I wish you'd stop." He said, as if that explained everything. "Stop doing what, Sherlock? Stop talking, stop breathing?" he asked sarcastically. Sherlock sighed dramatically "Stop telling people we're not a couple! It's annoying." Sherlock elaborated. This only served to make John more confused. "But we aren't a couple. I don't know why people keep assuming we are. Why don't you like me saying it?" he asked. "It's repetitive and dull." Sherlock snapped quickly. Too quickly. John narrowed his eyes, detecting Sherlock's bullshit.
"Sherlock, I know you too well for that." He said flatly. "Why do you really not like it?" Sherlock turned away, avoiding John's gaze. "it doesn't matter John." He said harshly. John blinked in surprise. "Sherlock? What's going on?" John asked suspiciously. The genius suddenly whirled around to face John again, a wild, angry look in his eye.
"I control my emotions John!" he said, getting up in the doctor's face. John simply blinked as his flatmate continued. "That's how I do it. I control my emotions, stuff them down so they won't distract me. They'd affect my work otherwise. I have almost perfect control. Entirely perfect until you." The detective ranted.
John watched, listening quietly as his best friend raged. "But every time you do that, say we're not a couple, I lose control for a few seconds. I feel anger, and sadness, and hurt and betrayal." He said, sounding disgusted with himself. A slow theory was forming in John's mind. But no, he couldn't mean it like that.
"And when you shake you head at me and call me an idiot, I feel happy!" The detective continued. "Happy. That you called me an idiot! And then there's that ridiculous fuzzy feeling I get when you smile and it's so damn annoying!" John's eyes were wide as saucers as his brain processed this new information. "And it's all your fault! You've messed me up John Watson, and I don't know how!" he was practically shouting now, breathe coming in short pants as he turned the full force of his angry gaze onto John.
"Hang on, hang on." The army doctor said, cutting in to whatever Sherlock was planning to say next. "You feel sad and hurt when I say we're not together, and you get happy when I call you and idiot?" he asked. Sherlock nodded. "Sherlock, I know that is. Everyone does. I would've thought even an idiot like you would recognize it." Sherlock looked at him expectantly. "It's love, Sherlock. You're in love with me." John explained.
The detective's eyes widened in realization. "Oh" he muttered, more to himself than to John. "Yes, romantic love. That makes sense. It all makes sense." The detective chanced a look at John, who was watching amusedly. Sherlock's eyes were wide, and John could tell he was in deep thought. Finally, the taller man met John's eyes.
A light, barely noticeable pink dusted his sharp cheekbones. John might've laughed if things hadn't been so serious. Sherlock was…blushing? "I-I have to go. I'll be in the hotel." He said, looking nervous. He then spun around dramatically, and stalked off, back into the building.
John never thought he'd see the day that he could make Sherlock flustered. He rolled his eyes. "I'm coming with you idiot." He said, walking quickly to catch up with his flatmate. John absolutely did not only use the word idiot to see Sherlock's reaction. Not at all.
As they walked, John tried to keep the smile off his face. Because he was not at all pleased that Sherlock was in love with him.