John tapped the table and looked at the door for what must have been the twentieth time in the last ten minutes. He took a sip of water and his hand went to his pocket, wrapping around the ring box. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes to try and calm himself.
"You alright there, soldier?" a familiar voice said. A grin spread across John's face as he opened his eyes and looked at the man sitting across from him.
"I'm fine, Sebastian," he replied. Sebastian smiled and folded his hands in a nervous habit. "You're late."
"I got caught up with something," he said. "They tried to stop me from quitting."
Sebastian and John had met a year after Sherlock's and Moriarty's deaths. They had met on the very same rooftop that had taken the geniuses from them. It had seemed rather fitting that Sebastian had a gun as he sat on the ledge and John had come to jump off.
After talking, they began seeing more of each other. It was Sebastian who asked John out first. After that, things fell into place. Sebastian had agreed to quit his job as an assassin and John spent more time at Sebastian's flat than 221B. It all had led up to this moment right now.
"I can't imagine that was very good," John said. He fingered the ring box and took another deep breathe.
"Anyway, you said there was something you wanted to ask me?" Sebastian asked, a bit of hope glittering in his eyes. John loved that expression. Sebastian rarely had it but those few times made John absolutely giddy inside, a feeling that he had lost after Sherlock's fall.
"Yes," John said, pulling the box out of his pocket. "Sebastian, you and I get on great and I feel…"
"Good evening, monsieurs," a waiter said as he appeared out of seemingly nowhere. Both men exchanged frustrated looks. "Can I interest you in a bottle of our very best wine?"
"No," John said shortly. Sebastian twirled his glass in his fingers and shrugged before holding it up. The waiter filled it and turned back to John.
"I must insist, sir," he said. "It reminds you of someone. Like a face right from the past."
John rubbed his forehead tiredly and Sebastian watched him with a mix between amusement and his own annoyance.
"He said he's fine so leave, pal," he said. The waiter paused and there was a brief moment where they both thought that he would leave. Then he knocked over a cup of water that splashed over John's lap. He jumped to his feet and turned to the waiter, intent on yelling. The words were caught in his throat when he saw his face.
"Oh my God," he whispered.
"Hello, John," Sherlock smiled. Suddenly, John's fist connected with his nose and Sebastian was on his feet to wrap his arms around John's waist to keep him from lunging at the man.
"John, hey, not here," he whispered. "Wait, okay? No use causing a scene."
John slowly calmed down and a man came over, telling them they had to leave. Sebastian kept a tight grip around John as he led him out and Sherlock followed them slowly.
Once they were outside, Sebastian let go of John and crossed his arms as he yelled at Sherlock.
"Three bloody years, Sherlock!" he screamed. "I mourned you, we all did, and now you just come waltzing back into my life? I don't think so!"
"John, you have to hear me out," Sherlock insisted.
"No I don't!" John snapped. "You left me and now I want you to bloody stay gone!"
He stormed off and Sebastian studied Sherlock with a sad expression.
"You faked your death," he stated. Sherlock looked over at him and looked him over, assessing who he was in an instant.
"He's dead," he said gruffly and turned away. Sebastian sighed and followed John. He caught up and wrapped his arm around his shoulders.
"That bloody idiot," John mumbled. "He thinks that he can just come back and everything would be fine."
"You've dreamed about this day, John," Sebastian said. He kissed John's temple and his voice dropped to a whisper. "I know because I've dreamed about Jim coming back."
John's breath caught in his throat and he stopped walking. Sebastian looked at him curiously and John took his hands in his. They were quiet for a moment as John stared at their hands. He slowly looked up and met Sebastian's eyes.
"This doesn't change anything," he stated, squeezing his hands. "I still love you, Sebastian. Nothing will change that."
"I love you too, John," he said. "But I know that you want to be with him now."
"No, I want to be with you," he said. He let go and reached into his pocket. He pulled out the ring box and presented it to Sebastian. "This isn't how I wanted to do it but I would love for you to marry me, Colonel."
Sebastian stared at the box and took it, opening it to reveal a simple gold band. He looked at John and smiled.
"It would be an honor, Captain," he said. John smiled wider than he had in a long time. Sebastian pulled him into a kiss and it was good… What they had was good.
They both knew the other's heart didn't belong to them. They belonged to two very stubborn, insufferable geniuses. They made do. They had let themselves fall into what couldn't be called love but a mutual need to be with someone who knew their struggles.
No, it wasn't love that kept them together. John realized that when he had seen Sherlock and he knew Sebastian knew it too.
It was their pain.