It was raining but Sherlock hardly noticed.

He charged through the storm like a bullet through the air, an arm raised to his face to keep the raindrops from hindering his sight. He wasn't wearing a coat or carrying an umbrella or anything practical like that, and the rain was soaking into his dress shirt so that it stuck to his thin body.

It was easy to convince himself that his eyes were wet from raindrops, instead of a drop of the tear variety. Why would he be crying? Crying over your relationship was boring and normal. It was mundane, he never did mundane things. He never let himself get emotionally involved in what normal people found important.

The storm was getting worse and Sherlock had no idea where he intended to go. He'd left the flat with only the intention to leave, no destination in sight. Which was stupid because it was practically a hurricane outside, and he was the only one desperate enough to be braving it.

He found a doorway protected by walls on either side and a roof above the stairs leading to the door, and he immediately took shelter there. He sat with his back against one of the walls and let his ragged breath slow. His chest kept swelling with sobs he didn't want to make, and holding back the ugly noise of crying made his throat hurt. He was so focused on not crying that he didn't notice John had arrived until the doctor was right next to him.

John was equally soaked, and his eyes seemed just as distressed. He was holding Sherlock's coat folded and close to his chest to keep it from getting wet, and upon seeing Sherlock he unfolded it and draped it over the detective's shoulders. He sat next to Sherlock, noticing how the thin man withdrew as the doctor grew nearer. They sat in silence for a moment listening to the rain before John spoke.

"You don't have to do anything." He whispered, his voice sounding raw. "I mean...back at the flat you...you didn't seem to want to do that."

"Leave me alone." Sherlock's voice was weak and without conviction.

"I'm just saying I don't need sex to be happy with you." John continued anyway. "I know Donovan's been teasing you about it, and I know you think I'd like it but really." John shook his head and sighed. "I don't want you to force yourself to do something you don't feel comfortable with."

"I didn't do anything, unless you are remembering differently." Sherlock snapped, his eyes narrowing.

"You looked ready to." John looked at his feet. "You started undressing and you tackled me like you meant something serious."

"I just thought you'd like it..." Sherlock pulled his coat collar up to cover his face. It was ironic, usually he did that when he was proud of a deduction he'd made, but now he did it to hide his shame. "But you reacted quite adversely."

"Because you looked scared and angry." John reached out for Sherlock's hand and slowly grabbed it, the detective flinched at the touch. "You looked like you had something to prove."

"Oh and don't I?" Sherlock laughed without mirth. John noticed how red Sherlock's eyes were.

"No, you don't." John said firmly. "If you want that kind of thing when you're ready, fine. If you never want it at all, fine. Sherlock I love you even if you don't want to have sex. Don't make me sound so shallow as to leave you because you won't put out."

Sherlock glared at the wall in front of him. "I never implied such a thing."

"For a genius you can be right thick." John leaned over and pressed a kiss into Sherlock's curly hair. "I'll say it again: I love you."

"Was I really stiff?"

John looked back at Sherlock and saw the detective squirming uncomfortably. "What?"

"Back at the flat. You said I was stiff...like I wasn't comfortable with you." Sherlock frowned.

"Sherlock..."

"People tell me I'm...emotionless." Sherlock continued. "Or uncomfortable with things that I shouldn't be. This isn't the first time I've made a fool of myself over someone I thought wanted a good shag, you're not the first. Well...you would have been my first if you hadn't stopped me."

"Sherlock, you're not emotionless." John assured him.

"And you know that I'm very comfortable being with you?" Sherlock looked up at John sadly.

"Yes, of course I do." John pulled the thin man into his arms. "Idiot."

The sat for awhile until the rain slowed down. Then John helped Sherlock to his feet and they started walking home together hand in hand.

"You're gonna get sick from running out into the rain like that."

"Don't be preposterous, rain doesn't cause illness."

"Oi, I'm the doctor here."