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"How are you doctor?" A deep enticing baritone called from behind him making him stop in his tracks. A voice he hadn't heard for a week now and he almost counted the hours since he had first heard it. Now suddenly on this on this cold Sunday morning it almost pierced him like an arrow and held him still. It was a misty, early, not many people on the road. John was on the side walk in front of his home heading towards Mary's house.
His first thought was run! Just don't look back.
However there are always second thoughts accompanying the first one when you're attracted to someone, which you try denying desperately and yet want to make sure. So, with the second thought he turned around and faced the man from that eventful night in broad daylight. John gave out a sigh of relief involuntarily.
There he stood in all his tall glory. He looked taller today in daylight standing straight-backed, the same long coat covering him, with the same old scarf. Coat collar turned up against the cold. Making him look all the more mysterious. Messy mop of dark curly hair, he looked like never bothered to brush, he's face so much paler but cleaner, fresher, he had shaved. And those eyes, looking like blue autumn sky, were they so blue when he first saw him? Maybe not. John thought.
Is that mist around him? Or am I just imagining things?
The man walked up to him with that all knowing smile of his. He stood watching John. John almost visibly shook himself out of his reverie.
"Where…um…how are you?" John said blushing involuntarily at his fumbling.
"On the streets, good."
The man answered both the spoken and half spoken queries making John blush some more.
"I came to apologize."
"For what?"
"leaving."
John noticed he didn't mention leaving without notice, he just said 'leaving' like he was not supposed to do that.
"Well, inevitable I guess." John said trying to smile but failing miserably looking at the crystal clear blue eyes looking into his.
"Yes." The man said solemnly, like he meant it in some other way that John clearly didn't know, like he was trying to get across some coded message which John couldn't decipher.
"I should be going." The man said breaking eye contact.
"No! wait!" the desperate words escaped John's mouth before he knew it or could adjust the tone of it. He hated himself for sounding so.
The man looked at him again, clearly not astonished.
"Ahh, would you like to have breakfast?"
The man quirked up an eyebrow. "I would love to."
John was fidgeting as they waited for the food to arrive in a cosy little coffee shop. The man was looking straight at him, his gaze contemplating, unflinching, his presence overbearing. John was looking anywhere and everywhere except for the man.
"That man is married." The baritone startled John.
"What?" he asked bewildered.
"That man on the last table with the young girl. He's cheating."
"How do you know?" John asked brows furrowed.
"The idiot has hidden his wedding ring in the coat pocket, the outline clearly visible. Also there's a mark on his ring finger."
"How do you know he's cheating? She could be a friend." John said musing about how the man could see such minute details from metres away.
He didn't reply and pointed at the couple again. The man kissed the woman's hand and she blushed.
"I am good at reading body language." He said simply. John turned and was pinned by the glare again. John felt extremely self-conscious at the comment.
"Like I can say that you have developed an attraction towards me by your fidgeting, sweaty palms and avoiding eye contact."
John's breath hitched and he felt a large amount of blood rushing to his face. He couldn't believe it.
This is absurd! He thought. He just CANNOT say things like that to me! Oh that insufferable infuriating git! Instead of thanking me he is insulting me! and what am I doing? I am god damn blushing instead of protesting! Intolerable.
His embarrassment gave away to anger now, anger not only with the man but also with his own reactions.
"Now look here…"
"Sherlock."
The name quietened him again for a few moments. He had again forgotten to ask! What was happening to him? Why did this man have such an influence over him?! Sherlock. John whispered the name in his mind.
He swallowed and tried to speak again. It was easy to regain his composure now that the man had turned his piercing gaze and was digging hungrily into his plate of pancakes with strawberries.
"Sherlock I am just trying to help. There's nothing of the sort that you are indicating." John said indignantly.
"Mmmhmm." Said Sherlock not looking up from the food.
John felt a lump in his throat. He must be so hungry. God knows when he ate last, when he ate good.
"Why?" Sherlock asked again.
The baritone broke the line of thought and startled John. He couldn't remember what he had said a moment ago suddenly but then remembered.
"Because I'm a doctor. And by your judgement a kind one." He said reasoning.
At this Sherlock looked up and smiled. Then he dug into his food again. The fleeting smile making John's stomach flip. John noticed he hadn't touched his own coffee or toasts. He huffed and began eating.
"Why me?" Sherlock asked finishing his food and wiping his mouth with a napkin.
John looked up at the man. He didn't say anything. Sherlock was looking at him deeply again. He stapled his fingers under his chin and looked at the doctor with a grin.
"There are so many like me on the streets doctor. Why am I the only one being subjected to your generosity quite regularly?" he drawled.
John swallowed his food, took a gulp of coffee, licked his lips. He was buying time. He didn't want to sound like an idiot to this extremely intelligent man.
"It is not possible for me to help everyone, although I would really like to. And because you happened to cross my path quite regularly." He felt satisfied with his answer.
"Or that you are hiding your attraction under the mask of compassion." The man said plainly looking at a stunned John.
John was just about to answer when he quickly pointed towards the couple at the back of the shop looking very enthusiastic "Look! She's going to slap him!"
"What?!" John turned to look at them astonished. The girl held up a hand and gently stroked the man's cheek lovingly. There was no grudge in her eyes, she was most definitely not going to slap him anytime soon.
Poor girl.
"She's not going to…" John stopped as he turned around and found the chair empty in front of him.