John was once again lying propped up on Sherlock's bed, typing away on Sherlock's laptop, making up some work that he missed. Sherlock was doing the same, sitting in his desk chair. John had asked Derek for his notes so he could catch up over the weekend. They would both return to school on Monday. It was almost 5 in the afternoon.

Something was off, ever since the interview Sherlock seemed a bit more distant, quieter. He still hugged John, or occasionally held his hand on the couch or something but it wasn't the same. It always felt like a guess. It's not right. John wants his Sherlock back, it will never be the same, but maybe that's okay, maybe it can be better.

John shut the laptop, not loudly, but not quietly either. Sherlock paused typing and slowly spun around to see John looking at him. Neither said anything for a moment. "Can we talk," John said finally.

Sherlock nodded.

John scooched over a bit and patted the space between him and the wall. Sherlock got up and sat down, back against the wall, knees tucked up.

"Can I just… say what I want to say first, then you talk after? I just wanna make sure I say what I mean, and what I need you to know, okay?" John asked, struggling to start.

Sherlock nodded.

"Okay, well, first of all, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry for all this, for when you got attacked, for leading you into this whole mess in the first place, and for any hurt I have caused you. I don't want you to think you mean nothing, you mean everything to me. I would never, ever cheat on you, not for anyone, especially not Victoria. You've been nicer to me than anyone, and I wouldn't give that up for the world. You gave me a family, I want to be a part of your life! I want to joke around with Mycroft, I want to talk to your mum about your past, I want to learn from your dad, and if you don't want me to be a part of that I completely understand."

Sherlock visibly bit his cheek to refrain from saying anything. Sherlock wore a pained expression, his heart yearning to express his feelings.

"They're your family, and that's special, and I get that, it's just, I don't… have a family, anymore, I'm lonely, but I don't feel like that when I'm with you. You are my reason for getting up in the morning, for trying in school. When I was in the café the other night I thought you hated me. I was giving up, but the angel on my shoulder told me to 'live for Sherlock Holmes.' You've saved me in so many ways and I can never repay that. In the text I said some terrible things, I hate myself every second for it, but I had to make it believable, and the right letters for the cover up and I'm just so sorry." John shut his eyes.

"In the hidden message I said… I said that I… love you. Um, well I couldn't say 'I like you' because it's not enough, and 'I need you' sounds desperate and selfish, and I've, I've just never felt this way before, about anyone, and I don't know if it's love but it's enough to know that I never want to lose you and you make me feel lighter than air and if you are disgusted by it or hate me for it then I understand and I'll leave, I just can't lose you, but I can live with just being friends if you don't want anything more anymore. But know that if you still want me I'd be the best partner ever, I will tell you how amazing you are constantly, I won't be afraid to show that I care for you, I won't care what people think or say, you're the only thing that matters. I'll stay up late if you want me to, I'll help you with work (not that you'd ever need it), I'd quit my job and football to spend every minute I have with you, I won't hang out with the other guys, or girls, I won't go to party's or their houses, and I will never lie to you ever again. I promise. But if you don't want that, I'd, I'd understand. I don't deserve you."

John let out a small sob.

Sherlock had tears in his eyes but remained respectively quiet like John had asked, though it visibly pained him.

"I'm-I'm, done-I'm… done-I'm" John stuttered.

Sherlock let out a deep breath and gently placed his hand on John's cheek, "oh John. Listen to me, are you listening?" He asked, coaxing John to open his eyes.

John shuddered and nodded, lifting his lids.

"I don't care about the consequences, I want to be with you because of who you are, not what other people think of you, or me, or us. I want you to be a part of my family, hell- you already are! I want to come home and see you laughing with my mum, looking through old photographs, I want you to wake up with me on Christmas morning and us to go down in our pajamas, sit by the fireplace and open gifts together. I don't care if it's not traditional, I don't care if we're only seventeen, and only known each other a couple months. I've never felt this way before either. I want you to be happy, I don't want you to quit your job, or football or your friends, I don't want to hold you back. It's your life, and I'm not going to stop you, I will accept you and be proud of you, and hold your hand through tough times. And I think I'm in love… and it scares me. I'm scared of the future, I'm scared of losing you and I'm scared of what this means but I'm also excited, and so happy. If you can accept my flaws and mistakes then I'll be happy to share my life with you. Whatd'ya say?" Sherlock huffed, breathless.

Sherlock wiped a tear from John's face. "Oh God, yes" John grinned and chuckled before lunging forward and connecting their lips.

John poured everything into the kiss, his gratitude and apologies, hopes and fears, his love and loyalty. Sherlock felt it all filling his heart, trying his best to reciprocate and make John feel loved.

A few minutes later, John pulled back, breathless, and rested his forehead against Sherlock's, fingers playing with his hair where his hand had ended up, the other hand clung onto the front of his shirt, against Sherlock's chest, feeling the elevated heartbeat, a promise that everything that just happened was true and real.

John leaned in to rest his head on Sherlock's shoulder, closing his eyes and just feeling safe, comfort, home.

The moment, however, was disrupted by the wonderful Mrs. Holmes. She quietly knocked on the door and said softly, "Dinner's ready, if John's asleep then let the boy rest Sherlock,"

"S'okay mum, John's up," Sherlock replied.

"Did I wake him? Oh, I'm sorr- "but Sherlock cut her off.

"No mum,"

"Did you wake him up? Sherlock Holmes if you've disrupted that poor boy's sleep I swear-"

This time John cut her off, "No Mrs. Holmes, I've been up all day, I'm feeling much better." John chuckled and leaned back from their embrace.

"If you're lying… I swear…" Her voice trailed off as she walked away down the stairs.

John turned to Sherlock. "What do you think she would do if I told her you woke me up because I was sleeping on your favourite pillow and it was getting crushed?"

Sherlock glared at him, but not really mad. "First of all I don't have a favourite pillow," he stuck his tongue out, "and second of all don't you dare!"

John chuckled, "Or what?" and threw a pillow in Sherlock's pouty face.

"I'll get back to you on that, but for now, dinner awaits." He swung off the bed and kissed John's head as he skipped out of the room, leaving John to smile and follow.

A/N If you have any suggestions, for activities, (like Christmas) an epilogue (like John leaving for the army) don't hesitate to PM me! Also, comments and constructive criticism are much appreciated and enjoyed!