John, why do I have to wear a tie for this thing? I don't even want to go SH
Oh shut up. It's just a tie... it won't kill you! JW
It's a piece of material that serves no purpose apart from aesthetic and is worn tightly around my neck. I am statistically more prone to choking than if I didn't wear one. SH
Well you've got to wear one. It's just for a few hours... JW
I don't even understand why we even have to go. SH
You're getting recognition for your work, Sherlock. We have to go. JW
Mycroft threatens to do that all the time. I don't see why this one is so important. SH
Well I'm getting recognition too. So suck it up for a few hours, and then it will be over JW
That doesn't explain the tie... SH
You need to wear the tie JW
Why? What is this fascination everyone has with ties? I don't understand. SH
I don't know! It's a formal event so it is required that you wear a tie. JW
Fine. I'll wear it. SH
Thank you. JW
I didn't say where I'd wear it though. SH
Honestly, Sherlock. Don't be a child JW
I'm not being a child. I've found a loophole in their requirements. SH
Just wear a tie, Sherlock. Properly. JW
God, you're dull. How do you tie this blasted thing? SH
You're the one with the brilliant mind... You figure it out. JW
I can't. It's like that bloody Rubik's cube you bought. SH
Oh please. A silly little cube doesn't determine your intelligence... though I must say you did rather awful job trying to solve that thing… JW
Shut up! How does this thing work? I will refuse to wear it if you don't help me. SH
Just search it on the web, Sherlock. JW
What do you think I've been doing for the last ten minutes? SH
Honestly? We're going to be late. Tie the damn thing best you can and we have to go! JW
If it's in our honour, we can make them wait. They can't exactly start without us, now can they? SH
Well the faster you tie the bloody thing the faster you can take it off! So hurry up! JW
Sherlock walked out of his room, in his most posh suit, if you didn't already classify his casual wear as posh, that is. He threw the tie at John, defeated.
"Not wearing it," he pouted.
"Oh come here!" John walked to Sherlock and tied his tie for him. "There you are. Now let's go."
Sherlock rolled his eyes, fiddling with the tie. He grabbed his coat and made for the door.
"If I see one deerstalker, I'm leaving."
"Alright, alright," said John, as he shuffled Sherlock out of the flat and down to the street below. Sherlock hailed a cab, getting into the taxi and sliding to the far side, staring out the window. After several minutes the car finally stopped in front of the event. Sherlock walked straight out of the cab, leaving John trailing behind. He headed straight towards Lestrade and plunged his hand into the man's jacket, retrieving spare nicotine patches that Sherlock insisted he carried for just such an emergency. He slapped three against his arm and sighed with relief. John ran after him, and stopped- gasping for air- once he finally caught up.
"H-honestly... Sherlock?"
"I am not going through this without some form of toxin in my system." he said through gritted teeth. "It's either this or you hand over my cigarettes."
"No," muttered John as he glared at Sherlock.
"This it is then" he said, giving John an exaggerated smile. John rolled his eyes.
"Fine." He paused. "Fine."
"What?" He looked over at John, eyebrow raised.
"Nothing" He cleared his throat. "It's about to start... we should sit down."
Sherlock rolled his eyes but obeyed. He slumped down in the chair next to John, fiddling with his tie. John noticed this and gently slapped his hand.
"Stop that, you'll mess it up."
"That was my intention," he pouted, slapping John's hand back on reaction. John sighed as other people found their seats and the event began. The event was tedious, boring speeches, applause, powerpoints. Sherlock was glad when it had finally ended; he threw his tie at John and headed straight to the bar. After Sherlock had had a few drinks, John slowly walked to the bar.
"Want to go home?"
"God, yes." he sighed. He'd refused to talk to anyone here, luckily there had been no deerstalkers this time. John led him out to the street, where he hailed a cab.
"I'm going to walk home." he said casually, walking away from John. John looked at him puzzled, almost hurt.
"Okay. I'll walk with you" And he followed Sherlock.
Sherlock looked at him a little confused.
"Oh, alright."
John smiled weakly and walked beside Sherlock.
"You looked pretty pleased with yourself in there"
"Well yes. I'm happy."
"Yes. Well that thing you did on the Nicholls case. Was... good."
John blushed slightly.
"Thanks..."
Sherlock noted his friend's reaction to the compliment. A small smile tugged at his lips. He turned right instead of the left, clearly not heading to Baker Street just yet. John notices but doesn't say anything to him. Sherlock led them to Greenwich Park, closer to the Yard than Baker Street. He thought he might as well show John seeing as he'd decided to tag along.
"Where are we going, Sherlock?"
Sherlock didn't say anything, he led them in silence through the park and to one of the most spectacular views, over looking the city. John smiled the entire time.
"Wow."
Sherlock just watched John's face, smiling faintly at his reaction.
"It's beautiful..." he said, noticing the slight smile on Sherlock's face.
"Yes. Isn't it just wonderful? The heart of this fair city... It's funny, I used to consider it my heart too. It's funny how within a year my life has changed so greatly." he rambled.
John looked at him puzzled and anxious.
"What do you mean... changed? How?"
"Well, now, of course, I consider my heart to be well and truly yours." John tries to hide a smile.
"Mine? Sherlock, what are you saying?"
"You're my best friend, John" he began, "My only friend" he corrected. "I don't like to think of my life before meeting you, and I certainly don't like to think about my future without you in it." John smiled at him, speechless.
"Sherlock... I- I don't know what to say..."
"I don't expect you to. I just thought you should know" he shrugged.
John felt Sherlock's disappointment and moved closer to him. He wrapped an arm around him.
"I- I feel the same way."
"Good. That, ah, that's good," he said, not expecting that reaction at all. He
thought John would lecture him on timing, or how inappropriate it was, just.. something. They stood there, awkwardly in silence, until John finally spoke up. "So... do you want to go home now?"
Sherlock took in the sight one last time.
"I suppose."
John smiled weakly, wanting to reach for Sherlock's hand and walk him home, but he stopped himself.
"Alright then... let's go"
After astonishingly silent walk home, they reached Baker Street. Sherlock headed straight to his room. Feeling idiotic. He'd made John uncomfortable by what he said, he could tell. John called up to him from downstairs.
"Sherlock! I'm making tea... do you want some?"
He was tempted to ask if he can have some more Vodka but thought against it. John would probably just say no.
"Yes."
After several minutes, John entered Sherlock's room in his pajamas, bringing tea.
"Here you are..."
Sherlock was still in his suit, minus the jacket and tie. The shirt half undone. He lay on his bed, taking the tea from John and placing it on the bedside table.
John stood there awkwardly for a moment and then cleared his throat.
"You're welcome."
Sherlock looked up at him a little confused.
"What?"
"For the tea..." He paused, trying to make conversation. He didn't want to leave Sherlock's room.
"No. I was referring to your awkward stance. You only stand like that when you have something to tell me"
"Oh... No." he said feeling stupid..."No, no I have nothing to say."
"John. I can see it's written all over your face. You're hiding something from me," he said, tilting his head to the side. John looked away.
"No I'm not!"
Sherlock stood up so he crowded John.
"Yes, you are," he smirked
"Am not!" He tried to suppress a smile.
"Now who's being childish?"
John let out an exasperated laugh.
"You're right... I am being foolish. I apologize."
"Don't apologize. Tell me what's bugging you. You've been like this all night."
"Nothing's bugging me." He grinned. "I'm chuffed."
"About what?"
A pit formed in his throat. He hated talking about his feelings, so he lied.
"Well we both just got awards for our work... I'm elated" He smiled weakly.
"So you are standing awkwardly in my room, acting like a teenage boy because... you won an award? That makes sense." He rolled his eyes.
"Yes, yes I am," he lied, and sat on the edge of Sherlock's bed, biting his lip.
"Spit it out." he snapped, fed up of this little performance. John sighed and sat more comfortably on the bed, facing Sherlock.
"You're right." he paused. "I don't know how to say this..."
"Stop trying to formulate the best way of phrasing it. And just say it already!"
John paused for a moment and suddenly, out of nowhere, he leaped forward and kissed Sherlock. After a few seconds he abruptly pulled away.
"I- er... sorry..."
"Oh." he breathes. Oh, indeed. He looked at John a little startled before laughing idiotically. John got up off the bed, completely embarrassed.
"Sorry... sorry..."
Sherlock rolled his eyes.
"Idiot," he mumbled before placing a hand on John's neck, pulling him towards him and kissing him. John was completely taken aback for a moment, until he finally relaxed and pressed his lips firmly into Sherlock's. Sherlock smiled into the kiss, wrapping his arms around John's waist. After some time, John reluctantly pulled away and looked at Sherlock, his eyes beaming and his mouth forming a wide grin.
"I told you John. My heart is well and truly yours," Sherlock grinned. John smiled and kissed him again softly, as he playfully pushed Sherlock onto the bed.
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