John:
The waiter set down an appetizer of garlic bread in front of the two men. The server gave a wink before scampering off back into the kitchen. John awkwardly smiled and reached for the bread knife at the same time as Sherlock. Their fingertips brushed on the metal handle of the knife, John's pulse quickened. They remained like that for a minute, fingers slightly touching, John wanted to grab Sherlock's hand and never let go but this was Sherlock's date, his practice. Sherlock looked a bit lost, staring at their hands.
"John what do I do." Sherlock asked, blushing. "You could offer to cut the bread, or actually hold her… my… their hand." John looked down, embarrassed. Sherlock smiled and gestured to the bread. "Would you like me to cut some for us?" John wanted to hold his hand but his stomach growled and changed his mind. Perhaps Sherlock had something else planned. After cutting and eating the appetizer, the waiter brought out their separate dishes. As John ate his pasta dish, Sherlock watched, staring into John's sparking eyes.
John looked up, "Sherlock, you might want to take at least a few bites, seems a bit awkward staring at someone while their eating." Sherlock looked down at his food. "Right, sorry, it's just that your eyes are so indulging." John blushed and scratched his head. He found Sherlock's eyes attractive as well, deep and stormy and beautiful. "You're eyes are pretty too." John said, and mentally slapped himself. Pretty? Ugh stupid. But Sherlock just grinned.
"So," Sherlock started. "What do you talk about on dates?" John swallowed and placed down his cutlery, clasping his hands together. "Well, they normally ask about the other, but we already know each other…" John smiled. "But I don't know you're favourite color or anything like that, isn't that like basic information?" "I suppose, then again we are far from basic." John chuckled. "Alright, what is Sherlock Holmes's favourite colour?" Sherlock sat back in his chair. "I rather enjoy the colour green, although I secretly enjoy the colour of your eyes more, but they keep changing, so I'm sticking with green." Sherlock stated. John smiled bigger.
Sherlock:
"I like green too, and purple." John said. Sherlock looked down at the purple shirt he was sporting and slyly grinned. John's blushed slightly and asked Sherlock what his favourite movie was. "I have never wasted my time on such nonsense, but I am open to new things, films included. What about you?" Sherlock asked, part of the plan.
"Huh, good question, I like Now you See Me. It's about magicians and a secret organization. We should watch it sometime." Sometime indeed Sherlock thought, grinning
They then ate in respected silence. Finishing up their meals, Sherlock paid the bill and opened the door for John on the way out.
"You know, that was actually pretty nice." John said, grinning up at Sherlock. The other tensed and took up a questioning look. "Why? Did you expect it to be bad?" John's mouth popped open. "No, no, I expected it to be as good as it was, I was just complimenting you." Sherlock relaxed. "Okay. Walk with me?" Sherlock asked. John quirked a smile and walked alongside Sherlock.
The sun had set and stars were twinkling, lighting up the sky like fireflies. The crescent moon hung low in the sky and the craters were visible, deep crevices yet just a shade darker than the rest of the moon. Streetlamps and trees were silhouettes against the sky, the air was cool but not uncomfortable. The evening was perfect, the smell of leaves and London in the air. Sherlock had his London and his John. It was perfect. On the way back to the flat they passed a corner shop. "Wait here." He told John. John barely registered what he said before Sherlock disappeared into the shop, coat trailing behind him.
Sherlock frantically searched the shelves. Now you See Me. Where is it? "Need any help sir?" The greasy shop owner came around. "Um, do you have Now you See Me?" Sherlock asked, regaining his composure. The heavyset owner picked it off the shelves and carried it over to the cash. "Will that be all?" He asked. Sherlock nodded, throwing bills on the counter. "Keep the change, and the receipt," he sputtered before grabbing the DVD, now in a bag, stuffing it in his pocket and clambering out the door. John was still waiting, with a perplexed look. But that was Sherlock for you.
As they silently walked, only the sound of faint traffic in the distant and quiet footsteps on the sidewalk penetrated the peaceful silence. Sherlock became increasingly aware of John's hand brushing his as his arms swung as his sides. Alright, part 2. As John's hand swung back this time, Sherlock took a breath and caught John's fingers. John's arm stopped swinging and Sherlock slipped his fingers through John's warm ones. John's thumb strokes his hand and Sherlock let out the hitched breath.
Going great so far. Sherlock was holding his doctors hand walking in a perfect night. Too soon did the door of 221B creep into their sight. "Should we take the long way?" John asked. Sherlock hummed, "I do have one or two more things up my sleeve," looking into John's eyes. John blushed, or perhaps his cheeks were just cold from the night air. "Alright, proceed." John said and the taller man pulled John along into their flat, hands still clasped together.