John had been trying for weeks to think of a good way to come out to Sherlock. He knew that the detective probably wouldn't return the feelings; he wasn't big on the whole concept of emotions. But the fact of the matter was that John had fallen in love with Sherlock, and he knew that it had to be said eventually. The hard part was trying to get Sherlock to listen and understand.
Sherlock noticed that John had been acting strange for a couple of days. John wasn't talking to Sherlock, and it seemed like he was trying to avoid eye contact at all costs. It was a bit odd to see John like this. Although John was horrible at hiding his emotions, but he rarely let his feelings get in the way of his work.
"Something's bothering you, John. What is it?" Sherlock asked, looking up from the body he was looking over. They were alone at the crime scene now, but it wouldn't last. Someone could waltz into the room at any moment. It was only a matter of time, and Sherlock wanted to get to the bottom of John's unusual behaviour. "You haven't talked directly to me, or even looked at me, for a few days now. What have I said or done to upset you this time?"
The question sent a pang of guilt through John's body. He hated knowing that Sherlock always thought that John was upset at him.
"I'm not upset at you, Sherlock. I have just been thinking about my life a lot lately, and frankly, I would rather not talk about it here," John said. He looked Sherlock in the eye for the first time that day. Sherlock nodded, obviously trying to hold back the urge to ask more questions. Sherlock respected John, and he didn't want to put any more stress on him. John went about his business. Reluctantly, Sherlock sighed and went back to examining the crime scene.
The rest of the day went on as usual, except that neither Sherlock nor John spoke a word to one another. They only spoke when spoken to by Lestrade. Lestrade's team seemed to be giving Sherlock and John questioning and suspicious looks. Usually, no one could get Sherlock to shut up. Now, they had to actually ask him to speak about what he was finding.
It was around eleven o'clock when Sherlock and John finally returned to their flat. Once they got settled in, Sherlock reinitiated their earlier conversation.
"I know that whatever is going on with you has something to do with me. You haven't spoken to me nor have you even made eye contact with me in a week or so, so I must have said something to upset you. So, what is it?"
John felt the guilt again. He sighed, and gestured over towards the couch.
"Can we sit, Sherlock?" Sherlock nodded, and they each took a seat on the couch.
John turned towards Sherlock. "You haven't done anything to upset me, Sherlock. I have just been doing a lot of thinking. I have wanted to talk to you for a while now. I just was trying to think of a way to tell you what I needed to tell you." He paused. Sherlock looked at John. Although anyone else would have said that Sherlock looked confused, but really, Sherlock understood completely.
John sighed again, this time more nervous. His voice was shaky, and his palms were sweating. He wiped his hands on his pants.
"Sherlock, I…" John exhaled, reaching into his right pant pocket. "I want you to keep these." John pulled his dog tags out of his pocket. He took Sherlock's hand, placing the dog tags in it, closing Sherlock's hand around them with his own. Sherlock's facial expression softened into a small smile. There was redness into Sherlock's cheeks. John knew that Sherlock understood what was being said. He smiled.
"Keep them, Sherlock. I didn't know how else I could tell you or show you how I felt. So-"
John was interrupted by Sherlock's lips on his own. For a split second, John didn't know how to react. Then, he closed his eyes and sank into the kiss. Sherlock lifted a hand and placed it on the back of John's neck, and he placed the other on John's waist. John subconsciously lifted his hands and ran them through Sherlock's hair.
The kiss lasted for several minutes. They were the best several minutes of John's life. When the kiss finally ended, they didn't fully break apart. They just leaned their foreheads together and reveled in the bliss of the moment. They sat like this, hand in hand, both of them beaming with a happiness that neither of them had ever seen in the other before.
From that day forward, Sherlock kept John's tags with his at all times. He never went anywhere without them. During the three years he was away, Sherlock used the dog tags as a way to sort of talk to John. He liked to think that they created some sort of link between him and John; he wanted to think that John could hear him talking. They comforted him in times of utter despair. They reminded him that once everything was over and done with, he had someone he loved to go home to.