The day is rainy and boring, but Sherlock is finding domesticity slightly less dull than he used to. John sits in his armchair, holding a book but not really reading it, as Sherlock dismantles a printer on the floor by the desk.
"How do you feel about kissing?"
Something small pops out from the printer's innards and Sherlock frowns. "I don't enjoy it."
"Okay."
A thought occurs to Sherlock and he turns to look at John. "Do you enjoy it?"
"I very much enjoy kissing women."
"Have you kissed men?"
John shifts in his seat. "Yes."
So. Didn't like it, then. Not sexually interested in men, but open enough to try it at one point, perhaps influenced by Harry's experiences.
"What are you going to do about sex?" Sherlock asks, scrunching his eyebrows.
John's face scrunches up in return. "What d'you mean?"
"You haven't had sex with anyone in at least two months, and you haven't had a girlfriend for nearly twice that."
"That's hardly a record for time gone without sex," John counters.
Sherlock dips his chin and stares hard at John.
"Yes, okay, I don't exactly have an answer to that right now."
Sherlock turns back to the printer.
Half an hour later he says, "You know that I don't expect you to give it up for . . . me."
John looks up from his book and is clearly trying to grasp the thread of the conversation.
"Sex. You don't have to give up sex."
"I . . ." John closes his mouth. "Thank you."
"The logistics of it are quite simple. You could certainly arrange for-"
John sits up straight. "No, no, there won't be any of that. No."
So, no prostitution. Not surprising, though it would a direct solution.
John shakes his head and tries again. "I . . ."
Sherlock looks him over. Lips pursed, fingers of left hand curling and uncurling. Anxious.
"It's not just sex for me, Sherlock, though, sure, there was a time when that was all I was looking for. But I need more than that, now." John looks down and adds softly, "A lot more."
Ah. John is looking for the impossible woman. The woman who loves John and accepts Sherlock. He sees the lines around John's eyes and finds himself compelled.
"While I consider myself without equal, I'm hardly the only extraordinary person we've come across. It'd be stupid to stop searching simply because you have high standards," Sherlock declares, turning back to the printer carcass.
He can hear John's surprise and smirks down at the carpet. Yes, I have the capacity to be reassuring; put that on your bloody blog.
When he sneaks a look later, the tightness around John's eyes is gone.
x-x-x
Notes: Hugs to wiggleofjudas who always seems to be available at the magic moment that I need her, especially for this fic!