Chapter Eight: Realization

The next morning John slowly woke, far warmer than normal. He slowly opened his eyes, so comfortable he didn't wish to move. He shifted slightly and found himself face to face with Sherlock. He tensed slightly and the other man sighed, nuzzling close. John relaxed in his arms and smiled softly, Sherlock looked so relaxed asleep, so happy. John couldn't help but nuzzle close, closing his eyes again as he enjoyed the warmth of Sherlock's arms around him.

The moment John stirred, Sherlock was pulled back into consciousness. He pretended to continue sleeping as he inwardly cursed himself. How had he slept so long? Normally, he rarely slept at all and when he did, it wasn't for very long. He had planned on getting up before the doctor woke, but apparently that hadn't happened.

John sighed softly as he considered going back to sleep, he was simply so comfortable that it was an attractive idea. But he knew they'd have to get up soon anyway. He shifted and rubbed his chin against the other mans chest gently, delaying the moment that he pulled away. At last he moved back and mumbled softly. "Hey... Good morning Sherlock."

"Good morning." Sherlock said as he slowly got up, already missing the feeling of John in his arms but ignoring it. He went through his closet to get his clothes and dress, trying to act like he didn't spend the night holding the man he was quickly coming to realize he cared for.

John watched him from the bed, half covered in the blanket they had shared. "So.. Any special plans for today?" He asked slowly, enjoying the way Sherlock gracefully and purposefully moved around the room. "Or will you be enjoying another day on the couch?"

Sherlock turned to the doctor as he buttoned up his shirt. "No plans. No cases. Just a peaceful day." He buttoned the last button on his shirt, leaving two unbuttoned. "It's positively hateful."

John looked at the small area of pale skin still showing. "Hmm.. Yeah, hateful." He stood and walked over, slowly reaching up and stroking the area. He couldn't seem to move his eyes from the spot. "I like this shirt.."

The detective looked down at John, a slight smirk curving his lips. "And I like your collar." His hand brushed over the collar the other man had yet to take off and was the only thing he was wearing.

John blushed softly, his hand moving from Sherlock's chest to cover the mans hand on the collar. "I completely forgot about the collar." He smiled softly back up at the detective. "I like it, too."

Sherlock paused for a moment before leaning down and capturing John's lips in a deep, slow kiss. Their second kiss. The detective's arm wound around the doctor's waist. He kissed him with a passion, but not arousal. The kiss wasn't a means to lead to sex or a reward for John's good behavior. It was just a kiss. Something Sherlock had never really taken pleasure in before. Until now.

John melted against Sherlock as he kissed back, feeling completely safe in the other mans arms. After a long few moments he broke the kiss, slightly out of breath and leaned his forehead against Sherlock's. "I'd best get dressed soon..."

"Yes, you wouldn't want Mrs. Hudson coming upstairs to see you naked." Sherlock said as he looked at John. "Though I'm sure she wouldn't be all that surprised with the way you were moaning for me."

John blushed brightly and pulled back, muttering. "I was not that loud.. And if I was, it was entirely your fault."

The detective smirked slightly and undid the collar, putting it away before heading into the living room. "Go get dressed." He found that he was relieved John seemed to be back to himself.

John found himself almost wishing he could keep the collar on, but of course that wasn't practical. He looked around Sherlock's now empty room and shivered softly. "Yeah.. I'll do that." He hurried into his room and quickly pulled on some clothes, leaving his door wide open. Sherlock had seen everything already and he just couldn't bring himself to close the door. To be alone in his own room. Within a minute, John was joining Sherlock in the living room.

Sherlock laid on the couch with his eyes closed as he sorted out his thoughts. Somehow, John brought out reactions in him no one else had ever been able to before. He needed to figure this out.

John watched him for a moment, the soft spot in his heart growing for the silly brilliant man on the couch. He went into the kitchen and made himself a cup of tea, then began making breakfast. After their activities they could use something in their stomachs.

Closing his eyes, Sherlock listened to John move about the kitchen. It was strange how normal this felt to him. The detective thought back to how he had felt when John was taken from him and his jaw clenched. His eyes opened and stared at the ceiling as he realized what had happened when he wasn't paying attention.

John came out of the kitchen, juggling the two plates filled with food. "Are you hungry? I made food." He laid Sherlock's plate next to the couch and sat in his chair. "I'm starved."

The detective stayed where he was for a second longer before sitting up and looking at the plate of food. He wasn't all that hungry, but grabbed a piece of toast and started munching on it anyway.

John watched him and slowly ate his eggs. "So. You look like you've been thinking. About anything interesting?"

Sherlock looked over at John, chewing on his toast. He couldn't admit to caring. Admitting he cared meant admitting he had a weakness and could be hurt. "I'm bored. I need something to do."

John looked down and shifted slightly, unsure his sore bum could handle Sherlock being bored again. "Uh huh."

The detective watched the other man carefully. He seemed to be doing alright with everything that had happened with X.

John finished his plate and looked back up to find Sherlock staring at him. "What?"

Shifting, Sherlock sat up and gave a slight shake of his head. "Nothing."

John frowned but stood, "Right, whatever you say Sherlock." He walked away, plate in hand. He didn't really like it when Sherlock was thinking but wouldn't tell him about what. As he put his plate in the sink he looked around. He didn't like the empty kitchen, even knowing Sherlock was mere feet away. He hurried back into the living room silently.

Sherlock saw John's frown and when the doctor returned he gestured vaguely to the seat next to him while looking away. Maybe John would feel better close to him.

He paused before joining Sherlock on the couch, relaxing slightly at mere proximity of the other man. "You never let me share the couch."

"Would you rather sit in your chair?" Sherlock asked as he glanced over at the doctor. "I never said you had to sit here."

John frowned again and shifted. "I wasn't complaining." He looked away, pouting slightly. "No need to be snappy."

A sigh escaped Sherlock's lips as he reached out and pulled John against him. "Stop pouting. It doesn't suit you."

John blinked as Sherlock held him close then he relaxed, cuddling the other man contentedly. "You're comfortable.."

Sherlock didn't respond, simply looking away as if he was merely tolerating the closeness when in all honesty he enjoyed it much more than he'd ever admit.

He nuzzled closer and smiled. "And you smell nice." He looked up at the other man. "What do you wanna do today?"

"I'm not sure. We have no cases." Sherlock said as he looked down at the man cuddled up to him.

"We could go out and do something. Not everything revolves around murders, you know."

"And where would you like to go?" Sherlock asked, not really planning on going anywhere, but still curious.

The doctor shrugged. "No where specific. We could go get coffee, take a walk. Not be cooped up all day."

The detective thought about that for a moment. "Alright. We can go anywhere you'd like to go."

John blinked and looked up at the man. "Alright? No arguments? No complaining? Just alright?" He pulled back and crossed his arms. "Why?"

Sherlock stood and went to grab his coat and scarf. "The reason is irrelevant."

John scowled. "Then I don't want to go out." He knew he was being childish but the simple way Sherlock dismissed his question had him annoyed. "We'll just stay in the flat all day, sitting on the couch, not doing anything."

There was a pause before Sherlock turned to John. "I'm not going to make you come with me." Another pause. "Though I would prefer it if you did."

John stared up at the man and sighed softly. "Alright, I suppose I don't need to know why.." He stood and grabbed his coat. "Let's go. We could grab some ice cream."

Sherlock grabbed John's arm and pulled him into a deep kiss, putting every emotion that he could never say out loud into that one kiss. This was his confession. His way of saying he cared, that he loved the other man. It had happened without him realizing it. The fall had been gradual, unnoticed even by him. Thinking back to before John walked into his life, Sherlock realized how alone he had been. Now that he had someone, he would do anything to keep him safe. This man had made him feel things he had never felt before, never thought he could feel.

John froze for a few seconds surprised by the force of the kiss, but soon melted into his arms, kissing him back happily. "Mmm... Come on then, I'll buy~" John took Sherlock's hand and waked downstairs, glowing with happiness.