A little bit of angst in here, but me being me, a happy end. enjoy!
Dinner went by smoothly, giving the circumstances. There were more questions about their relationship, but the big ones had already passed and Sherlock could handle most of them himself, leaving John able to think about his very recent discovery. How could he have fallen in love with Sherlock Holmes? "Well, that's one of the easiest questions" he thought "I've just told his mother how."
'When?' was the next, fairly more difficult question. John couldn't find an answer, but he didn't really need one. It actually didn't matter when, it was there and, looking back, John couldn't believe he hadn't realized it before. The strange feeling in his stomach whenever Sherlock touched him, the constant crave for Sherlock's approval and attention, the jealousy for Irene Adler. It was kind of obvious, and if Sherlock was a girl, John would have known his own feelings a whole lot earlier. But there was the hard point: Sherlock was anything but a girl. He was a man, a very attractive man, but still a man.
Even though everybody had always assumed that they were together, John had always claimed he was straight and he had meant it. So what's different about Sherlock? A quick glance to the man answered his question. After all, what wasn't different about Sherlock? So, if Sherlock could be a high-functioning sociopath, then why couldn't John be a straight guy with one exception? And so what if that exception happened to be the before mentioned sociopath. He loved him anyway, so way make it so difficult? He would just go with it and see where it would bring him.
Feeling slightly better after his intern argument, John tried to follow the conversation again. Apparently Sherlock was telling his mother about a date Sherlock and he went on, that involved sharks and Disneyland. John smiled. It was actually a case that John hadn't found the time to blog about, but with a couple of fantasies made up by the great mind of Sherlock Holmes, it sounded like a really romantic date. The story made another question pop up in his mind. Did Sherlock want them to be together? Had he even feelings for John. The more John thought about it, the more worried he became. He remembered how Sherlock once said he didn't do feelings.
The warm feeling he had in his stomach earlier slowly started to slip away. He was wrong: the hardest thing wasn't the fact that he loved another man, but the fact that the other man couldn't love him back. And now he knew how he felt, there was no way for unknowing it. He didn't know if he could live with that. Always wanting more, hoping that every touch meant something. And it never would. Never.
"John love, do you remember that time?" Sherlock took his hand to get his attention and John felt the heat immediately. How couldn't he have noticed how he felt before?
"John?" Sherlock sensed something was wrong and if John stayed a little longer, Sherlock would know exactly what. He couldn't stay and let him discover, their friendship would be ruined forever.
He would grab his luggage, take a cab, go to Baker street, pack and leave. He would tell Sherlock he had met someone and wanted to move in with her, but they would still be friends. That Mary he had met earlier was nice and she clearly loved him. Even if he didn't feel the same way, he would have a reason to stay away from Sherlock. He couldn't deal with having Sherlock so close (too close, since Sherlock hadn't even heard of personal space) but always being too far away.
John stood up "If you'll excuse me, I don't feel very well. I think I'm going to lay down for a couple of hours."
"Sure John, don't you want some medicaments?" Petronella asked, already treading him like she would treat her own sons. It touched John and made his decision harder, but also more worth it. Better to leave now then hurt her later.
"No, I think I've eaten too much. Living with Sherlock has made my stomach get used to the little food Sherlock allows me to eat." He smiled and left, knowing it would be the last time he saw them. Except for Mycroft, he would look for him, listen to what he has to say and agree. And that would really be all, from that moment on, his life would be Sherlock-free. Like he wanted it to be. No, like it should be. He sighed. He was on the losing side again.
"John, are you ok?" of course Sherlock had followed him out, the minute after John left.
"Yes Sherlock, I'm perfectly fine." John knew Sherlock wouldn't believe him, but maybe he let it pass. And apparently he was lucky.
"Fine" John sighed with relief.
Until Sherlock proceed
"I think we should kiss."
John gulped "What?"
"I think we should kiss."
"No Sherlock, I'm not going to kiss you for this idiot little play we are doing. Kissing is something you do with someone you love, someone you want to hold close and snuggle against. Or at least someone you want to spend the night with. Not because you've told your mother you have a boyfriend."
"I don't see the problem, you love me, don't you."
Of course he had noticed. How could John be so stupid to think for one minute that he was able to hide something from him.
"Yes, I love you, but you don't feel the same way about me, so I will not kiss you."
"Who said I don't feel the same way?"
"You did. 'I'm Sherlock Holmes, I'm a sociopath, I don't have feelings' remember?" John said starting to get angry. Sherlock wanted to use his feeling just to make their act a little more convincing. He knew Sherlock was insensitive, but he never thought he was selfish as well.
"Maybe I was wrong."
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me. Maybe I was wrong about being a sociopath and don't have feelings. Or for a part. You have always been my exception. And I've been yours. So please listen to me when I say we should kiss."
"You want us to kiss? Really kiss? Really wanting it? Like in 'I want it because I love you'?"
"You John, I want us to kiss. And I love you. Don't you?" Sherlock stepped a little closer, feeds already touching.
"Since when?" John's breath came out more like little pants than actual breaths, could this be real? Could Sherlock really feel the same way? Oh, how he hoped it.
"Let's just say that I haven't said a word I didn't mean the entire weekend. That includes my declaration of love. I really do love you John, and I'm willing to talk about our feelings later, but for now: I think we should kiss."
"You know what, Sherlock, I think we should." And he closed the gap
Who would have thought that Sherlock's lips would be so soft. And that his arms would fit so nice around his hips. But most of all who would have thought that he was such a good kisser. Sherlock slipped his tongue between his lips and begged John for entry, which John gladly granted. A little fight for dominance was battled between their tongues. John couldn't suppress the urge and lifted his hands to feel Sherlock's hair. He gasped, Sherlock's curls were so soft. He couldn't believe they hadn't done this before. He slowly tugged the curls, making Sherlock moan softly.
They slowly moved to the bed, not releasing each other for even a second, to afraid that it would turn out to be a dream.
"John."
He felt Sherlock's hand sliding to his jumper, pulling to get it off. He smiled and lifted his arms, making it easier for Sherlock.
"Sherlock, Mummy wants me to inform you and John that we are about to open the Christmas gifts. Are you coming?" Mycroft gasped as he opened the door and saw his little brother and his fake boyfriend exchanging little kisses and loud moans that didn't sounded fake at all
"Hush Mycroft, like you may have noticed, I'm busy unwrapping the most beautiful gift that there is." His eyes never leaving John's, by now exposed, chest.
"You think I'm beautiful?" John asked, amazed that a gorgeous man like Sherlock would find John beautiful.
"The most beautiful man I've ever seen, my dear, the most beautiful."
"Thank you."
"I love you."
"I love you too."
Mycroft coughed softly making clear he was still standing there. "Are you coming?"
"Yes we are." John answered.
"No, we're not. John I would like to spend some more time with you, now that we can use it so differently." Sherlock mockingly snapped back, sliding his hand across John's chest, showing his ideas of how they could use their time now.
"As much as I would like that, I like your mother as well and I would hate it to let her down. Besides, we've got tonight, haven't we? And the night after that and every night that follows, so don't worry and let's go downstairs. Let's see how much time you need this time to deduce what gift I got you. Record's 30 seconds wasn't it?"
"29 seconds to be correct, but fine. But you better prepare yourself Mycroft and buy you some earplugs, since you are sleeping in the next room. I will unwrap John completely tonight. With no compassion." Directing the last part to John, Sherlock grinned. Tonight would be one of the best nights of his life.
Mycroft smiled. His little brother was happy, and so was he. But he would have to have the big-brother-talk with John later. Because if he hurt his little brother, he would...
Mycroft stopped and looked how John stared at Sherlock. John wouldn't hurt him! He couldn't, even if he wanted to. Maybe he should have the talk with Sherlock instead, making clear what John will and will not like, in real life and, if Sherlock would need that sort of advice, in bed. His little brother, in love. May the heaven be praised!
only a epilogue to go, which will be uploaded together with this.