John was completely in love with Sherlock. While he had dated women in the past and messed around with men in the military, he couldn't say that he had ever been so in love withs someone so quickly before. He had cared for them, yes, and wanted to spend time with them but the thought of spending the rest of his life by their side usually didn't come about until he had been dating them for awhile. Even then he was sure that it had never been this strong before. He had even killed a man to save Sherlock's life on the second day that he knew him and knew without a doubt that he wouldn't hesitate to do it again to make sure that Sherlock lived another day. The only problem was that it was clear to him that while Sherlock obviously cared for him, he wasn't interested in a relationship. He had stated as much at the restaurant when he claimed that he was married to his work. Then he had run from John's bed last night when John just needed the comfort of having him close.
John had woken as Sherlock jumped out of bed in almost a complete panic and watched him flee, choosing not to go after him as he lay in the cool dark night staring at the closed door. It would have been so easy to follow Sherlock but even if Sherlock hadn't been having a non-verbal moment he wouldn't have told John what was wrong. He would deny ever having a nightmare or if he did admit it, he wouldn't tell John what it was about. So John just added possible PTSD to his list of diagnoses he was creating in his head about his roommate and closed his eyes to go back to sleep. He didn't think that the fact they had shared a bed would ever be verbalized but as always Sherlock chose to surprise him.
It was late in the afternoon and after a lovely curry followed by a trip to the bank they had returned to the flat. Sherlock stretched out on the couch claiming he was going to his mind palace but the soft sounds of him breathing evenly alerted John to the fact that he had fallen asleep instead. John wasn't surprised as he picked up his book settling in his favorite chair to read. A text alert from Lestrade changed those plans as he was offered a pint at the local pub as they watched a match. John readily agreed disappearing up to his room to dress. As he pulled on his shoes he noticed that Sherlock had one eye open and was watching him.
"I am going out for a while," John informed him.
"Clearly," Sherlock replied. His eye wandered over John's body deducing him like normal rather than just asking where he was going. "Not a date and we don't need anything from the store, so you are going to meet a friend."
"Well, I don't think Mycroft would appreciate it if I met Greg for a date. So instead, we are just going to the pub to watch the match," John stated. Sherlock rolled his eye letting it close again. Thinking he was going to go back to sleep, John finished getting ready. He had just finished putting on his coat and was about to leave when Sherlock spoke up again.
"John?" He questioned softly.
"Yes, Sherlock?" John answered pausing in the doorway.
"Was last night a one-time thing only?" Sherlock asked. John pondered his question for a minute before he answered.
"It doesn't have to be a one-off if you don't want it to be. You are welcome to come to me in the middle of the night whenever you actually need me. Not just because it is three am and you are bored. I mean it, if that happens, I will start locking my door at night in order to keep you from entering my room unannounced. Otherwise, you can come to wake me if it is for a case or Like last night when you were hurting and needed comfort," John informed him.
"I didn't need comfort," Sherlock spat.
"Right," John rolled his answer turning back towards the door and making his way out. As usual, as soon as he was outside, Sherlock was in the window watching him leave. John wasn't sure why he did it, but he found it comforting in a way to know that Sherlock was looking out for him as he made his way down the street towards the tube. Sherlock watched him go for as long as possible before flopping back down on the couch. The flat was too quiet without John there. It amazed him how use he got to the little noises that John made throughout the day as he moved around. He found himself wanting John there by his side but it would take even longer for him to realize that he too had fallen for John.
The first time he realized his feelings were more than just friendly was when he thought he had gotten everything wrong about the doctor who had changed his life. John had gone out again to meet up with friends after a busy day at the clinic leaving Sherlock alone and bored. He had tried experimenting, bugging Lestrade, and going through his email for cases but nothing kept his attention. Even John's room held no appeal as nothing had changed since the last time he snooped in his room. Eventually, his boredom got the best of him and he retired to his bedroom to sleep. He was awoken at about two in the morning by the sounds of people climbing the stairs. He slid quickly out of bed moving as silently as possible as he tried to figure out who was coming into his flat.
"I didn't need you to rescue me," a female's voice cut through the silence. Her words were slurred and she was obviously drunk as she stumbled up the next few stairs.
"Well maybe if you didn't keep getting drunk, I wouldn't have to come to get you," John argued with her. His voice was a low hiss as it was late and he knew Mrs. Hudson would be asleep with her herbal soothers but the woman didn't seem to care.
"Good old, Johnny always there when I need him," the woman replied.
"Yeah, yeah. Now up the stairs," John told her.
"I'm not going up the stairs," the woman argued.
"Yes, you are. Now go," John ordered. Sherlock froze. The woman was clearly drunk and John was obviously intent on taking her up to his room. He knew it had been awhile since John had slept with someone but he wouldn't take advantage of a drunk woman. Would he? Sherlock knew he needed more information even as he returned to his room to get his phone. One call, that is all it would take and Mycroft would make sure that John never set foot in Baker street again. He couldn't make the call though, not yet. Not until he was sure that he had been wrong about John. As silently as possible, he crept across the kitchen heading up the stairs. He could hear through the door John arguing with the woman again to lay down and shut up. His heart skipped a beat and he found himself dialing Mycroft's number. Before he could hit call, the door opened again. He stared at him silently, the deductions crowding his mind as John smiled tiredly at him.
"I hope you don't mind but Harry is going to sober up in my room for a while before she heads home," John advised him.
"Harry is in your room?" Sherlock repeated as he hit the button on his phone to send it back to the main screen. John nodded moving forward a little so that he could pull the door shut.
"Yeah, I got a call from a buddy of mine who saw her at a pub. She was clearly drunk and starting to cause a scene. He managed to calm her down but when she kept insisting that she was sober enough to drive herself home, he decided to call me to come to get her. I am not sure where she is living right now and she is too angry at me to tell me, so I brought her here for the night," John explained.
"You don't like to drive," Sherlock told him. John smiled.
"That doesn't mean I don't know how to you berk. Still, we left her car where she parked it and took a cab home. She can retrieve her car when she is sober enough to find it. Now, if you don't mind, I really want a shower then I am going to sleep on the couch tonight," John replied. Sherlock turned heading back down the stairs. His world had almost come crashing down as he thought John was going to take advantage of a drunk woman and even if he didn't want Harry in their flat, he was relieved that he had been wrong.
"You can sleep in my bed. The couch isn't good for your shoulder and I don't need to sleep anymore tonight," Sherlock informed him. John shook his head.
"Yes, you do. You don't sleep enough as is and you look exhausted. I will be fine on the couch for one night and I can sleep in my bed tomorrow," John answered. Sherlock glanced towards John's room and John followed his gaze concern written on his face. "Unless you can't sleep with her here."
"I can sleep fine," Sherlock snapped heading towards his room and slamming the door. John snickered softly as he headed to the shower, knowing that Sherlock would sulk for a while but hopefully would sleep after that. He showered then went to sleep on the couch waking in the morning to Sherlock sitting in his chair staring at him as Harry slammed the door to their flat. Sherlock didn't seem to mind as soon after Lestrade texted them with a case that had them running around the city and just like that all his worries were forgotten as he saved a woman while catching several would-be kidnappers in the process.
The worry John was going to leave him returned quickly as John took to dating soon after. He should have realized that John wasn't going to wait for him, but it hurt everytime John put on his nice shoes and dressed for yet another date. He did everything in his power to interrupt those dates by calling John several times during them or on one memorable occasion making a homemade stink bomb that had them living in a hotel for several days. John persisted on hooking up with women though and on two more occasions went out for a drink with Sarah. He insisted they were just friends but after Sherlock made him upset by drawing out the Moriarty case for as long as possible he still left to see her.
That night was the second time he knew he cared for John and this time, the feelings were even worse. They stood in the swimming pool together and just for a moment his whole world came crashing down as he truly believed that John had betrayed him. Only John opening his coat to reveal that a bomb had been strapped to him was even worse. He knew in that moment that he couldn't live without John and if John died that night that he would do his best to join him. Sherlock wasn't sure how they survived that encounter. The snipers had been ready to kill them as he aimed at the vest John had been wearing. A call had been their saving grace and just like that, it was over. Moriarty was gone and the snipers disappeared for good this time. He called Mycroft who had sent a team to search the grounds while the two of them returned to their flat.
He didn't even pretend that he didn't need the comfort as he followed John up to his room. He couldn't let John out of his sight again as the irrational part of his brain feared that doing so would cause Moriarty to take him again. John thankfully seemed to understand. He didn't question as Sherlock stood there feeling lost. Instead, he helped him out of his coat and shoes helping him to lay on John's bed. John laid down next to him and Sherlock scooted closer. He laid his head on John's chest closing his eyes as John ran his fingers gently through his hair.
"It's okay, Sherlock. We survived and the next time he surfaces we'll be ready for him," John whispered softly. Sherlock heard him but didn't answer as he took comfort in the steading beating of John's heart. He couldn't do this again, he decided. He had grown too close to John and Moriarty knew it. Alone had always protected him and now he had a weakness that his enemies could exploit and use against him. That is why he would allow himself this one night. One night to lay here and let himself be held by John. Then in the morning, it would be over. He would make it clear that he wasn't the best option for John and allow John to move on without him. John would be happy with Sarah or whatever woman he chose and Sherlock could continue with his cases. He knew it was for the best but the thought of pushing John away made his chest ache. Still, he couldn't risk losing him again.
"You're alright," John repeated. Sherlock opened his slightly confused until he realized how tightly he was holding on to John's sweater. He relaxed his hold as he let his eyes close again. One night, he reminded himself as the world narrowed to the sound of John's heart and soon he was fast asleep in John's arms.