This is an AU I came up with myself. Hope you guys enjoy it :)
When there is mutual love between two individuals, a telepathic connection is made. Sherlock Holmes and John Watson both only had one voice inside their heads each. At least, they did, until that fateful Thursday. John was making tea, and Sherlock was studying him. It was then that they both suddenly heard a second voice in their heads. The voice of each other. John dropped the mugs on the ground and stared shell-shocked at Sherlock, who was equally as shocked.
"Sh-Sherlock?" John asked, nervous. Sherlock was trying desperately to calm himself down, seeing as his heart was racing and he was close to hyperventilating.
"Yes John?" He managed to squeak out a few moments later.
"Why did I just hear your voice in my head?" John asked, still not quite believing what this situation was implying.
"I could ask you the same question." Sherlock replied, still trying to gain his usual composure.
"You do realize what this means, right?" John asks, his heart hammering in his chest.
"It means you love me." Sherlock says.
"And it also means that you must love me." John says. Silence. John steps closer.
"Sherlock?" he asks.
"I...I don't know what I'm supposed to say." he admits, looking all for the world like a deer in the headlights. John smiles slightly and steps closer.
"You realize that I can hear your thoughts. I know that you're panicking right now. It's okay, honestly Sherlock. Sherlock nods.
"You're panicking too John." he says quietly. John nods.
"I am." he agrees, taking yet another step towards the detective. By this point he's standing directly above him.
"But there's really no need to panic, is there?" John says quietly, his eyes staring into Sherlock's. Sherlock finds himself unable to speak, so he simply shakes his head.
"Good." John says, then leans down and pecks Sherlock on the lips. Alarm bells ring throughout Sherlock's head and John winces.
"Sorry, sorry." Sherlock mutters, attempting to make them stop. When he does, he looks up at John sheepishly.
"I'm sorry." he says quietly.
"No, no. Completely my fault." John says, waving Sherlock's apology away. Sherlock watches as John collapses into his chair.
"How long?" Sherlock asks suddenly.
"Hmm?" John asks, confused.
"How long have you...um...you know...loved me?" Sherlock stammers out, turning red and looking away, waving his hands on the last two words.
"About a year." John says casually. Sherlock's jaw drops.
"You're joking." he finally chokes out. John shakes his head.
"No, actually, I'm quite serious."
"A year? How could I not have known?"
"I'm very good at hiding things if I need to."
"A year...what the hell John. Why didn't you tell me?" Sherlock stares at the man incredulously. John shrugs.
"I knew you didn't feel the same way and I didn't want to ruin our friendship. I was content with simply staying your friend for however long you needed me." John explains. Sherlock moves forward so that he's sitting on the floor in front of John.
"John...I am sorry. If I hadn't been so dead set on only ever having my own voice inside my head, I would have most likely fallen prey to these emotions much sooner." Sherlock says quietly. He expects John to agree with him, but what he hears instead is a bark of laughter. He tilts his head in obvious confusion.
"Sherlock, are you really sitting there apologizing for not loving me sooner?" John asks, clearly amused. Sherlock blushes.
"Well...yes. I am." he says, looking away.
"You're being ridiculous." John says, moving from his chair to the ground so that he's eye level with Sherlock.
"It's not your fault you didn't love me sooner." John says softly, then kisses Sherlock. Sherlock doesn't kiss back, but he doesn't pull away either. He catalogues, trying to figure out how to kiss, seeing as he has never kissed anyone before.
"Sherlock, stop." John mutters against his lips. And that's all he needs to turn off his brain, and just kiss John.
.oOo.
When he wakes up the next morning, John almost convinces himself that it was all a dream. And then he feels breath against his neck and arms looped around his waist.
"Good morning." Sherlock says quietly, his voice low and rumbly.
"Good morning." John says, a smile spreading across his face.
"You realize that technically, we don't even need to talk to communicate anymore. This whole telepathy thing will come in handy." Sherlock says quietly, mumbling his words against John's neck.
"Yes, it will. Now I'll always know exactly when the last time you ate and slept was." John smirks, shifting around so that he's face-to-face with Sherlock.
"And I'll always know where you are when criminals kidnap you." Sherlock rumbles, a smile spreading across his face as well. Sherlock's phone chimes at exactly that moment, and he reaches across John to get it off of his bedside table.
"We have a case." Sherlock says, his grin widening. John laughs and shoves the blanket away, slowly climbing out of bed. He stretches and then stands, only to realize that he is without a shirt. He glances at Sherlock, who merely smiles and kicks the covers away from himself as well. He is also without a shirt, but John knows why. He's the one that removed it.
"Go get dressed." Sherlock scolds, smirking. John smiles and disappears to his own room.
Within 30 minutes they have arrived at the crime scene. As they duck under the caution tape Lestrade walks up to them, then leads them over to the body. It's a young man in about his 20's named Jonathan Frankton.
John, come and tell me how this man died. Sherlock thinks to John. John immediately kneels down next to him.
"He died of blood loss, but there are no wounds." John checks the man's arm, and sure enough finds the needle prick.
"Someone drew too much blood." He shows the man's arm to Sherlock, who smiles proudly.
"Lestrade, you're looking for his sister. She's a doctor, correct?" Sherlock says, standing up. Lestrade stares at him dumbfounded and nods.
"Honestly, Lestrade, you've been working with me for years now." Sherlock rolls his eyes.
Be nice. John scolds him silently. Sherlock looks at him as if he's offended.
"But, John, how can I be nice to someone so ignorant." Sherlock argues, this time out loud. Lestrade stares at them in confusion before he realizes what just happened.
"You're joking!" he exclaims suddenly. When the two of them look at him in confusion, he clarifies himself.
"You two are in love aren't you? You have a telepathic connection?" he asks. Sherlock blushes and looks away.
"Yes." He mumbles. Lestrade smiles at them.
"Congratulations I suppose. When did this happen?"
"Yesterday." John says, looking at the ground.
"John, we're leaving." Sherlock says, then grabs his arm and drags him away.
.oOo.
It's been a few days since the telepathic connection was made, but Sherlock and John have already become accustomed to two streams of thought.
"Sherlock, would you please stop thinking about the possible ways you could kill your brother? I am trying to sleep." John mumbles. Sherlock chuckles and wraps his arms around John's waist.
"Sorry." he says softly.
"No you aren't." John mutters, smiling softly.
"Love you John." Sherlock murmurs.
"I know."