I am truly sorry that it took me a while to get this one up. I hope there aren't too many mistakes, as I had to upload it in a bit of a hurry. Thank you so much for your continued support throughout this story and the wonderful reviews.

They didn't speak as they walked the cold London streets back home to 221B. So much was rushing through the minds of both men, as they had finally become aware of their feelings towards each other. He was no longer confused, though John still felt a bit uneasy, he had a bit of a complex about the whole situation, and worried what people would think if he and Sherlock were together. Only for Sherlock's sake of course, he didn't want it to bring him any more misery over the rash comments of certain people. He wondered where they would go from here, and he felt scared, but also excited. Sherlock was nervous and worried that he'd made the wrong decision, which he hated. He was usually so certain that he was making the right decisions, but when it came to matters of the heart, he was hopeless. They soon made it back home, and made their way up the dark staircase to the flat. John walked inside first, switching the light on in the kitchen as he entered the room. Sherlock followed in after him, his heart beating fast.

John leant against the bench top and faced Sherlock, who stood looking him in the eyes.

'Where do we go from here Sherlock? I've never... done this before.' John said quietly after a moment of silence between the two of them. The undeniable feeling of doubt was still lurking at the back of his mind; he desperately wanted to clear it away.

'Neither have I John.' Sherlock whispered, looking down. Sherlock was worried that he had shown too much emotion to John and been too fast, causing John to make an impulse decision that he would regret in the future. He wasn't sure where he should proceed next with the situation; he wanted to approach it with a delicate nature, as he had been so impulsive earlier.

'You've never... as in you haven't been with anyone at all?' John asked, cocking his head to the side.

'Never John, I told you when we first met, I consider myself married to my work.' He said.

'Do you still?'

Sherlock looked at John, registering the hurt in his eyes at what he had just said. He immediately felt like an idiot for the statement. He hadn't meant for it to sound that way.

'No, of course not.' He said looking at John solemnly. 'Ever since I've started to feel this way, I've almost forgotten about the work. You have no idea how frustrating that has been for me.'

John laughed; Sherlock looked at him, confused.

'If anyone knows when you are frustrated Sherlock, it's me. I have to clean up all of your little outbursts, remember?' he said, smiling.

Sherlock looked down at his feet.

'Ah, yes of course.'

They were silent again for a moment. John could tell that Sherlock was concerned about the situation, as was he. Their kiss outside had felt right and Sherlock had responded well to it, albeit very surprised. John wasn't really sure just how much affection Sherlock would want from him. It was too hard for him to guess such a delicate matter, as he would hate to scare Sherlock away, after he had just come to him about all of this. He felt so stupid for not realising that Sherlock had felt this way all along and now that he reflected upon it, he couldn't believe that he'd missed all the signs. He had been so ignorant and didn't want to accept that in all of those situations, he had felt the same way, somewhere deep inside but had been too ignorant to do anything about it.

'I'm sorry Sherlock; I've really been an idiot.' He said. Sherlock looked up at him, and John could see fear flash before his eyes.

'What do you mean?' Sherlock asked quietly.

'I've been ignorant. I should have just let myself feel everything that my heart has been trying to make me feel for the past few months. Here I've been telling you to let your emotions come to you and I can't even understand my own. It's just a hard thing to come to term with, you know?'

'No, John I don't know. If you mean coming to terms with being in love with another man, I don't know why that is a hard thing to comprehend. What was hard for me to accept was the fact that I was having these feelings for anyone at all, after telling myself that I didn't need to involve myself in such circumstances. It wouldn't matter to me, as long as you are you.'

John felt embarrassed and wished that he could retract his previous statement. Sherlock was absolutely right. It shouldn't matter to him that he is in love with another man, as long as that man was Sherlock. He felt more love for Sherlock than he had anyone else; it just took him a while to realise. He had been so blind to his emotions; trying to convince himself otherwise every time he questioned it. He thought of the way he cared for Sherlock, how he looked after him, not matter how much of a twit he was being. He would do anything for this man, he knew that all along, and now he could do even more for him.

'I didn't say it back before... I can't imagine how that made you feel.' He said quietly.

'I can't imagine it's easy for you John. Even with my lack of understanding for emotion I can comprehend the difficulty of the situation.'

'No Sherlock, you're wrong. It's been so easy, all along. I have always loved you, I just never realised that what I was feeling really was love.' He crossed the distance between himself and Sherlock and stood before the taller man, looking up at him with wide eyes. 'I love you, Sherlock Holmes. I really do.'

Sherlock looked down at him for a moment, he smiled and chuckled.

'Thank you John.' He said, looking down at him.

John grabbed Sherlock's coat collar and pulled himself up on his toes, resting his forehead against Sherlock's gently. Sherlock wrapped his arms around John, and pulled him close, hugging him tightly. Both men chuckled softly, before Sherlock gently placed his hand on John's cheek, lifting his head up face him. He drew in a breath, before softly bringing his lips to John's. John kissed him back slowly, allowing himself to feel the full impact of Sherlock's touch, something so rare and precious that nobody else had been allowed to experience, until now. His whole body fluttered and he felt like nothing in the world could be more right, as their mouths moved in perfect harmony with each other. Sherlock soon broke the kiss and held John's face in his hands, looking down at him.

'Are you okay?' John asked, concerned.

'Yes... There's just so much... I didn't know I could do this. Can we go somewhere else?' He said quietly. John smiled at him, before taking his hands away from his face, and pulling him towards Sherlock's room.

Their lips crashed against each others as the pent up emotions of the past months were relieved in the intensity of their kiss. Desperate, clumsy hands played with the buttons on Sherlock's shirt, as John knelt over him in a feverish state of desperation, of longing to relieve all the doubts and uncertainties from his crowded mind. He needed to be with Sherlock, he needed to know that this was the right thing for both of them. Sherlock was nervous, and excited as his body flourished with a new array of sensations previously unknown to him. He wasn't sure what to expect from all of this, though he trusted John to make the right decisions, he hoped that he wouldn't feel uncomfortable the further John's touch proceeded. His skin prickled as John kissed his bare chest, and lifted him to remove Sherlock's silk shirt from his back. Sherlock couldn't help but let a small moan escape as John continued to kiss down his chest, towards his stomach, forgetting everything he knew, everything he was in that moment. Suddenly, a small, shocked gasp from John awoke him, and he leant himself up to see John holding onto his hips on either side, looking at the detectives pale skin.

'Sherlock...' he whispered, as he traced his fingertips over the harsh scars, some of which John could tell had been deep; he winced as he realised the pain they would have inflicted. Sherlock sighed and threw his head back against his pillow, his hands covering his face. John couldn't understand how he had missed this, back when he had changed Sherlock's shirt for him the night of his overdose. Lines of scars rested on either side of Sherlock's belly, some quite fierce looking. John supposed that he had been too focused on making Sherlock better and was still trying to comprehend the vision of the track marks he had found along Sherlock's arm that night, so he hadn't even noticed.

'Sherlock... I'm so sorry...' He said quietly.

'Don't be John, they're from years ago. I have succumbed to self harm in the past, when narcotics were unavailable.' Sherlock mumbled from beneath his hands.

'But why would you hurt yourself like this?' he asked.

'The same reason I turned to drugs, to feel something and calm my mind. Escape my dull existence.'

'I don't understand.' John whispered softly.

'Of course not, nobody can. It was a futile scream for help that never got heard. An attempt to feel something, anything that would make me believe that I am actually alive and I'm not a machine. As I have been told I am, countless times.'

John's heart sank at this insight into Sherlock's past. He couldn't bear the thought that Sherlock had been so alone and so desperate to do something as rash as self harm. He wished he had known him then, so that he could have protected him from this. It was hard for John to even remember a time where Sherlock wasn't a part of his life, which made it feel even more surreal to him, like he had failed to protect Sherlock, even though he hadn't known him at the time.

'You're not a machine Sherlock. You're a man, you have a heart, and I know that now more than ever. You are the most human person I have ever known. You care so much, that you can't even understand it yourself.'

Sherlock's hands fell from his face at John's words. A tear rolled down his cheek, and John pulled him into a hard hug as he cried. He had to protect him, from ever hurting himself again.

'I'm sorry John...' Sherlock choked.

'Why?' John asked, confused.

'I ruined the moment.'

John chuckled.

'No you didn't love, I'm sure we'll have many more chances.' John smiled down at Sherlock. Sherlock smiled back at him and wiped the tears from his eyes.

'No more of that, we should be happy, we have all the time in the world to talk about this now. I know you'll tell me everything when you're ready.' He said, stroking Sherlock's cheek.

'John...'

'Yes?'

'I love you.'

'I know that, idiot.'

Sherlock chuckled and John lay beside him. The wall of John's doubts crumbled down as he realised, Sherlock was the one thing in this world that made his life worth living, he had no meaning before this man came into it, and John was grateful. As damaged as Sherlock was, John vowed to himself that he would try his hardest to mend the broken parts of him, and make him understand that he never had to feel alone again.

Sherlock sighed as John put an arm over his chest, and assured himself that things would be okay now, because whatever they had to face, they would face together. Just the two of them, against the rest of the world.

There we go! I may continue this, I may not. Not really sure where I can make it go. If anyone has any ideas or knows what they would like to see please tell me. Thank you for you support x :)

Comments are greatly appreciated!