FIVE

Shit. I did something wrong. I must have. What was it? Sherlock grunted in frustration. He was pacing around the flat pressing his fingers to his temples, millions of volatile thoughts racing through his head and crashing into the sides of his brain as though they were trying to burst out and destroy him.

My work isn't the real reason he's upset with me. No, that's definitely not it. Judging from his reaction to his own outburst regarding sexual activity, chances are he probably misses it. Sherlock stopped pacing and looked at himself in the mirror that rested above the mantel. Sex. With… me? Why would he want to do that? Does he?

Sherlock frowned. "No, probably not."

He went back to pacing. Why is this so hard? Why why "WHY?" He balled his fists and thrust them at his chair, dropping to his knees and resting his head on top of his now crossed arms. Sherlock took in a deep breath through his nose and then released it slowly through his mouth.

Just ask him. He lifted himself up off the chair. Just ask him. Sherlock made his way over to John's room. Just knock on the door and ask him. He raised his hand to knock. Just knock. Knock, you moron! Two gentle taps with the knuckle of his forefinger. "John?"

He heard a groan through the door.

"I can tell you're ecstatic about my sudden appearance outside your bedroom. Can I come in?"

Another groan.

"I'm coming in." Sherlock opened the door and stepped inside. His eyes fell immediately on John, who was lying facedown on the bed with a pillow over his head. He sat down next to John and tentatively placed a comforting hand on John's upper back. "What happened?"

John shrugged.

"You can talk to me about it. About anything. You know that, I don't know why I'm saying it-"

John emerged from under his pillow. "It's alright." He sat cross-legged on the bed and reached out for Sherlock's hand. "It's kind of tough to explain."

"Okay."

Deep breath. "You know Mary and I were involved… sexually."

"Of course." Sherlock didn't flinch.

"And since we didn't fool around at all while she was pregnant… er, it's kind of been a while."

"A while," Sherlock repeated.

"Yeah. Since I had sex." John furrowed his brow briefly before relaxing his forehead again. "First of all, Sherlock, I'm not suggesting we have sex. However, the urge has been at the back of my mind for months. After Mary died, I felt disgusting whenever… well, whenever I was horny. Christ, that makes me sound like a teenager. Anyway, I felt bad enough having the urges, but now I'm having them because of you." John looked at Sherlock. "Does that make any sense? It's confusing even to me."

"To say the very least. I'm surprised you haven't told me this before, John."

"We don't usually talk about this sort of thing, Sherlock."

"We could have, if you wanted to." Sherlock distractedly squeezed John's hand. "You mean a great deal to me, and I would hate to cause you to keep things like this to yourself. It's a burden, John, and if you'll let me I can help you bear it."

John smiled and leaned in to bump Sherlock with his shoulder. "Who says Sherlock Holmes doesn't have a heart?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Shut up."


The rest of the day was filled with tension.

Sherlock crouched on his chair and thought, while John tapped away at his computer. Sherlock eyed him, taking in the sounds of each key clacking as they were pressed down. Two fingers. Cute. "What are you typing?"

"Oh, just the last case."

"Okay."

Sherlock steepled his fingers and bounced into a horizontal position, stretching out across the chair with his legs dangling off one side. One foot was swinging back and forth out of boredom.

He looked down his nose at John, who had stopped typing. "What are you thinking about?"

"Huh—what?" John seemed dazed as he turned around to face Sherlock. His ears turned pink. "Um. Nothing. Daydreaming, I suppose."

"About what?"

"Nothing- er, I mean… I don't really remember. I snapped out of it so quick the though just kind of faded. Yeah."

"Right."

John glanced at the floor, then went back to staring at his computer. He raised his hands to the keyboard, and then—

"I wouldn't be opposed to it. If you aren't either, of course."

John whipped his head around and stared blankly at Sherlock.

"What?"

"You know."

"Er…"

"Sex."

"Uh-huh." John's averted his gaze back to the floor, now staring into space.

Sherlock was still watching him.

"John."

"Hmm? Oh. Well, er, I wasn't really expecting… I mean, I was hoping? Oh god, I don't know what I'm saying," John stuttered.

"That's fine—"

"Right now probably isn't the best—"

"I just thought I'd—"

"I mean I'd love to—"

"Let you know—"

"When I'm ready—"

"It's not really my area—"

"When you're ready—wait. Sherlock have you ever even… Have you had any experience?"

Sherlock let out a strangled noise(1). "Well, I—I kissed a few people at University. Made out, I guess. Let's see… I touched a breast once."

John snorted loudly and started laughing. Sherlock propped himself up on his elbows. "John, I don't appreciate your amusement at my lack of sexual experience."

"No, no, you're right. I'm sorry. Just the way you said it—" His words were cut off by a fit of giggles.

"Hmph." Sherlock grumbled.

"No, I'm sorry." John went over to kneel next to Sherlock. "Look, this is clearly a touchy subject. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable, and I don't want to feel guilty if we get to that point in the… relationship." They were both still getting used to that word.

Sherlock smiled. "If?"

John raised his eyebrows suggestively. "When."

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to Sherlock's forehead. Sherlock let out an audible sigh and caressed John's arms with his slender hands.

John stood up, offering a hand to Sherlock. "Come on. Let's go get some dinner."

"Dinner?" Sherlock chuckled.

"Oh, hush."


[DAY 38: JULY 9TH, 2014 – 03:05 PM edited 11:24 PM]

Has it really been over a month?

Up until today things have been going quite smoothly. However, John and I got into a pretty heated argument an hour ago. He says I've been paying too much attention to my work. I pointed out that my work is, in fact, our work. He became more and more irritated, going on to blurt out something about sex, looking very shocked at himself, and storming off to his room.

Maybe…

UPDATE: We worked through it. I hope John's feelings for me don't change anytime soon. I don't think I have ever been happier than I am right now.