A NIGHT OUT
"Over here!" Lestrade waved John over. "First pint's on me."
"Thanks, mate." John slid into the booth and took a sip of his beer. He had a feeling he was going to need it. "What's up?"
"Where's Sherlock tonight? I thought he'd come with you."
John smirked. "He's at the flat. He deduced that you wanted to find out about our, uh, err, relationship, and he didn't feel the need to be here. As the other half, I was more than adequate a source of gossip fodder for the Yard. His words. Not mine."
"He's not wrong." Unable to look John in the eye, he grabbed the menu and looked at it. Once he couldn't stall any longer, he turned back to John. "So? Despite your flatmate's insistence that we're all morons, my staff and I do notice things from time to time. It didn't hurt that you two weren't exactly subtle the other day."
"Subtle is not a word in Sherlock's vocabulary. You of all people should know that." John took another sip of his beer, steeling himself for what was to come. "Before you ask, no. We are not shagging. We have no plans to. As it turns out, Sherlock is celibate," he shot Lestrade a look. "I know. It sounds weird, but Sherlock barely eats, and practically never sleeps. Denying himself sex must come very easy. Besides…"
"I'm not gay!" The two men said in unison. John laughed. He felt a huge weight lift off his shoulders. For the first time, he didn't mind the teasing.
"But don't you miss…" Lestrade started.
"A bit. Yeah. I know nobody believes Sherlock has a heart, or is even human, but he does. He's shown it to me loads of times, and he's really been starved for basic human contact. I don't think he realized it until recently, but now that he's got a taste of it…" John trailed off. "I don't know how to explain it. It just feels like a natural continuation of our friendship."
"Well, whatever it is you two are doing, it appears to be working. With the exception of his outburst at Anderson, he's starting to change and you're more relaxed. Are you sure you're not shagging?"
John shook his head, laughing. "Positive."
#
"He asked you the minute you got to the pub, didn't he?" Sherlock was standing at the window, his back to John. "Let me guess. He's amazed that we're not shagging."
"Sherlock," John's voice had a warning tone. "He's just curious. Most of Scotland Yard is after that show we put on at the crime scene the other day. Before it was just gossip, now… now they have evidence that we're not just friends."
"It's nobody's business."
"We made it their business when we showed up at Jennifer Wilson's crime scene together. Remember? The pink lady? Now that we've held hands and cuddled in public, we've really made it their business. Why are you so upset?"
"I don't want them to reduce what we have to mere shagging." Sherlock's voice carried a hint of a pout. He'd finally figured it out. He loved the Doctor, but he still wasn't able to handle the emotions behind that feeling.
John shook his head, then walked over to the younger man. He wrapped his arms around Sherlock's waist and rested his head against his back. "It doesn't matter to me what people think, Sherlock. What matters to me is this. You and me." He squeezed him tight against his body.
Sherlock turned around and embraced John. The two men stayed like that for several minutes before Sherlock pushed John away and looked at him. He'd had two pints at the pub: nowhere near close to getting him the least bit drunk. He smelled faintly like pub food: he hadn't eaten, but Lestrade had. Fish and chips by the smell of it. He was relaxed: not the effect of the alcohol, but because the conversation with Lestrade hadn't bothered him. Interesting. John was comfortable with whatever it was they were doing. Sherlock was positive that meant that the words 'I'm not gay' were gone from his vocabulary.
He pulled the Doctor back in tight to him. He needed to feel John's solidness, to have John anchor him. These feelings were still too much for him to process. No wonder he and Mycroft had distanced themselves from emotions. ("All lives end. All hearts are broken. Caring is not an advantage, Sherlock.") "I'm afraid, John," he whispered. "I've never felt like this before."
John squeezed him tight, a smile on his face. "I know."