John started awake. Sweating and panting as the early morning moon shone through his window.
He had known for a while that his feelings towards Sherlock were changing. The constant moments of weakness where his mind and body were synced and the racy thoughts of his flatmate felt as normal as the chilly, rainy atmosphere of London. But there were also the moments where, what he thought he knew about himself no longer seemed true. That bothered him deeply, kept him awake some nights when his mind rejected what his body felt and what his heart was straining to tell him.
John awoke that night with a new perspective. He didn't give damn how he was raised or what the world would think of him. He only cared about what Sherlock thought and that's what scared him shitless. He sat in the moonlit darkness and cried. Searing tears ran down his face as fear washed over him and unavoidable internal conflict. His body was raked with sobs as John leaned forward into his pillow and didn't hear his door open.
Sherlock walked into johns room with the intent of waking him for a urgent case that Lestrade had just called about, one that actually sparked interest in Holmes but all those thoughts fell away as he realized what was happening before him. Human emotions were not something Sherlock understood or even acquired at times but seeing John in such pain broke his heart Sherlock had never had such an onslaught of emotion before. Uncontrollable. It made Shelock's breath hitch in his throat and a burning sensation start in his sinuses and soon he had tears rolling down his own face. Holmes never imagined such an irrational thing could happen to him but that was not what occupied his thoughts at that moment. It was, he had to comfort his best friend in any way he could. Sherlock climbed up on the bed kneeling in front of John taking his head in his hands and tilting his face up ward before embracing him in a hug. John clung to Sherlock like a drowning victim to a life preserver. "Shhh its alright John I'm here ." Sherlock whispered and rubbed his back as he continued to uncontrollably sob. "Sh-Sh-Sherlock?" john stuttered. "Yes my dear its me I'm here." Sherlock had no idea how he knew how to comfort someone, so he chalked it up to instinct. Sherlock rubbed circles along Johns spine until finally he felt his friends tensed muscles relax and he took a deep breath. Sherlock shifted so they were sitting side by side and pulled John down so he was lying on the bed beside him Sherlock closed the distance between their bodies and wrapped his arm around John. Sherlock spoke softly into John's hair. "Sleep my friend. Sleep, rest your mind." Sherlock kissed his temple and settled in for the rest of the night.
Sherlock knew when John had fallen asleep by the steady rhythm or his heart and lungs. Sherlock let his mind wander over the events of that fateful Tuesday. Sherlock was confused by many things but one thing he knew for sure was that his feelings for Dr John Watson had forever changed. Sherlock nestled closer to the doctor and fell fast asleep.
John awoke to a sleeping Sherlock wound around his body. John smiled in his comfort. Then immediately frowning as the memories of the night before came flooding back he didn't know how it happened, that Sherlock came to him that night when he was in dire need of a friend and gave him the support that no one else could. John felt tears sting his eyes because he knew it must have been one hell of an internal battle for Sherlock to put himself into such a vulnerable position. John felt Sherlock take a long deep breath John turned over so that he was facing Sherlock. He watched Sherlock open his wide, sleepy, silver eyes and marveled at the site because he knew this was a Sherlock very few people have ever seen. Sherlock blinked a few times focusing and smiled widely a John. John just stared face unchanged Sherlock's gaze shifted to Johns mouth, they were mere inches apart and Sherlock still hadn't fully awakened. He closed the distance between their mouths and pressed his lips softly to Johns then pulled away to look him in the eye. Johns face still unchanged as his now completely alert eyes looked questioningly at Sherlock. Sherlock sighed and rolled out of bed. He then walked down to the kitchen to make his morning tea. John laid there with his hand to his mouth reveling in the still lingering feel of the detectives lips.