Chapter Five – What?
John stared at Sherlock. Sherlock hadn't moved, his expression hadn't changed, and he still looked honestly perplexed. John looked at him like he had sprouted another head, anyway.
"You want to know what's wrong with you? How much time do you have?"
Sherlock rolled his eyes and sat down in his own chair, making sure he and John were at eye level.
"I am aware of what most people *think* is wrong with me. Most people are blithering idiots. I didn't mean that, and you know it. I want to know why you haven't simply asked me to be in a romantic relationship with you."
"You've got to be kidding."
John didn't know what to think. The minute he thought he had Sherlock mostly pegged (you couldn't entirely know his mind, that was impossible) the man would say something to completely throw him off. But he did know when he was being serious, and Sherlock seriously thought it was obvious that John should have approached him with this arrangement the minute he figured out how he felt.
"What do you think I should have done?" he asked, his voice rising in pitch in direct proportion to the incredulity he felt. "Brought you a cup of tea and said 'hey Sherlock, I've just come to grips with the fact that I'm attracted to men, want to be my boyfriend?' "
"Don't be foolish. You were able to admit to yourself you like men, it isn't that far of a leap to admit that you want me. Oh, and simply bringing me tea and sitting in my lap would have been enough. I could have deduced the rest from there."
"Ok, now I know you're joking."
"Of course."
"Right. What makes you think I want you?"
"Oh, John, how do you handle being so oblivious all the time?"
John sighed and shook his head. He should feel insulted, but Sherlock clearly didn't mean it as an insult. You *knew* when that man insulted you, and right then Sherlock only looked confused. Eyes wide and searching, hair slightly rumpled… John shook his head.
"You are clearly attracted to me," Sherlock continued. "You have been from the beginning. I just had to decide if I were attracted to you, which I am. I have to admit, it has been advantageous on occasion."
"Advan… have you been taking advantage of me?"
"No. Yes. Sorry."
"When… never mind."
"I don't understand, John," Sherlock started again, leaning forward a bit, voice dropping in volume. "I have seen the evidence in your increased respiration, your dilated eyes, your glances and smiles. And I know I do the same things. Whenever you are as close to me as you were in the cab the other day I can't tear away from your eyes and I can't move away. I know my breathing becomes erratic, you're sure to have noticed that, at least. I've made it clear that you being gone for too long makes me unhappy. I touch you whenever I can. I know I treat you completely different than I do anyone else. How could you *not* see?"
John swallowed and took a shuddering breath. He couldn't believe it. Sherlock was right, now that he thought about it. He had been so busy trying to hide all of his signals (obviously useless and he should have known better) that he had missed all of the detective's. He ran so many past encounters through his head and saw everything. His heart was beating so loud he had to take another breath to calm himself.
"What happened to married to your work?"
"Since when have you interfered in my work? And besides, we had known each other less than a day and I thought you were coming onto me. What was I supposed to say?"
"I was not coming onto you."
"Don't get indignant." Sherlock's smile had taken on a decidedly mischievous tilt. "And you most certainly were, though I realized later that you didn't realize you were."
"Ok," John nodded, mostly to himself. "I am attracted to you. I am more than just attracted to you. I… I adore you, you could say."
"Really? I would have gone with love."
John raised an eyebrow at the matter of fact way Sherlock said the last.
"Oh, don't worry. I love you, as well."
"Shouldn't you be affected more by this than you are?"
"Don't you know me at all? I'm deeply affected by this. Honestly, I could use a cup of tea."
"Well, I'm not making it. You can make some for both of us."
"You might regret that."
"Nice try. I know you can do it."
John shook his head, for what felt like the millionth time, and smiled fondly at his… what? He never could put a label on Sherlock, why start now?
"What happens now?" he asked the taller man. "Where do we go from here?"
Sherlock gave him that soft smile, which John felt he now understood, got to his knees in front of John and placed his elegant hands on the armrests of John's chair.
"For right now, we can go here," he said as he leaned forward and up.
John met him half way, taking Sherlock's face in his hands and letting their lips brush together, allowing the other man to control the kiss. He kept it light and gentle, but full of unspoken promises.
"And from here on out," Sherlock continued, leaning back a little, "our real adventure begins."
John just grinned.
TWO DAYS LATER:
"Mrs Hudson! Don't you ever knock?!"
"Gracious, Sherlock! I know I startled you but you're going to hurt Dr Watson if you drop him like that again!"
"I'm fine, Mrs Hudson, just please leave."
"Well, you can't blame me for this; you've never minded me walking in before. No one bothered to tell me I might find you two snogging. In your skivvies. You really should put something on you're going to catch a cold!"
"Is she really going into the kitchen?"
"Yes John."
"Is she putting the kettle on?"
"Yes John."
"Should we get dressed?"
"No."
TBC
A/N: Sorry so short! I had a bit more, but I didn't like the way it was fitting into the story. However, the stuff I had I feel was cute, so I'm going to post it at the very end as a deleted scene. There's one more chapter, which I'm going to post very shortly after this because it is done and then the story is done!
Thank you all for the recent reviews. The compliments and love make me feel very confident and I'm excited to get started on a new story – as soon as I put a plot line together. So please stay tuned . Oh, and much much love to my new stalker! I love having stalkers!