A/N: This one takes place earlier in their relationship.
3. Efface
efface- verb- 1. rub or wipe out (a mark, etc.) 2. a cause (a thing) to disappear entirely or remove all traces of (a thing) b (in abstract senses) obliterate or wipe out (a memory, mental impression, etc.) 3. utterly surpass, outshine or eclipse
obscure reference – make oneself appear insignificant or inconspicuous
Sherlock watched John through his lashes as he sat, across from him, reading, while he was attempting to look through some cold case files Lestrade had dropped off.
He had little interest in the files.
He was thinking about John.
Correction.
He was obsessing about John.
And he was trying to decide whether or not he should delete his burgeoning feelings for him.
Since he had met John, there wasn't a time when John wasn't part of his thoughts. John had been there, unceasingly, from their first meeting, at first innocuously and then gradually, increasingly occupying his every waking moment and invading his dreams.
Right from the beginning, the intrigue he felt for this man, the one everyone supposed was quiet, unassuming and unremarkable. The man, who stepped back, withdrew, and let Sherlock shine.
Don't the fools realize that John far outstrips me, eclipses me, not intellectually, but with his humanity and his goodness, his Johness. He surpasses me in so many ways. They should be basking in his light, not mine. He is, by far, more remarkable.
From that first run through the streets of London after an unknown killer and coming back to the flat and giggling, giggling for heaven's sake.
The memory of John's infectious laugh, and the corners of his mouth twitched, and he could feel heat coursing through his body. There was a fluttery feeling in his stomach.
Look at him. Sitting there. He looks tired, his brow furrowed as he tries to figure out who the killer is in that insipid murder mystery. Anyone could tell it's the gardener. How could I possibly have feelings for someone who would read such drivel?
But he did. All he wanted to do was stand up and walk over to where John was sitting, snatch the book from his hands, take his thumb and ever so carefully rub the frown marks off of his face. John should never be unhappy. Then he would take him in his arms and kiss him thoroughly, wiping all traces of care from that extraordinary face.
Where the hell is this coming from?
He did not have relationships. Not this type of relationship and he certainly did not have relationships with his flatmate, where he wanted to clutch at the bottom of his plain, boring jumper and roughly pull it off and push him against the wall and…
This has got to stop. I am becoming too unfocussed. I cannot do this. This is just infatuation. I have to disconnect. What will happen if I am in the middle of a case and images of John float across my thoughts and instead of solving the case I start running my fingers through his hair or nuzzle his neck…
Oh God! Stop! Stop it! Right Now!
The more he envisioned deleting his feelings from his mind, the more John entwined and tangled himself throughout his being. He pulsed through every cell, every molecule and would not leave his awareness; he would not be uprooted or pulled out. He could not get more than half a thought out before he was running various scenarios through his head on how to get John to remove that bulky jumper so he could see what was underneath and graze his hand across the chest he knew to be well muscled and run it down to his abdomen…
"Argh!" Sherlock flung the files, violently, to the floor and stomped off to his bedroom and slammed the door behind him.
He flung himself on his bed and grabbed his hair in his hands and started tugging, hoping the pain would drive all thoughts of John out.
It didn't work.
Scrubbing at his face, scrubbing at the images, he didn't know what to do. Never before had he felt this frustrated.
This is ridiculous. I cannot afford these feelings. I cannot do this. I cannot work like this. I have to tell him so he'll leave. But if I tell him, he will leave, and that'll be the end before it has even begun and I don't think I could bear it. If I delete the feelings, these emotions, then at least he will never know, and he will stay, and I can be near him even if I don't know or remember why I want to be totally wrapped up in him, in his very existence.
These words were racing, rapid fire through his thoughts. He didn't hear the tentative knock on the door.
Still muttering to himself, his hands pressed down on his eyes, colours bloomed behind the lids when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He jumped.
"Sorry," a low voice, concern evident. "I didn't mean to startle you."
Lifting his hands off of his face, Sherlock blinked as his vision attempted to return.
"Is everything okay? You've been acting jumpy and odd all week," John chuckled, the noise shot through Sherlock's body and vibrated. "Well, odd for you. What can I do? How can I help?"
You can stop invading my thoughts. Stop connecting yourself to me. Stop. Stop driving mad with desire and want and need. Just…Stop.
"Don't be absurd, John. How on earth could you help me," he couldn't keep his voice sarcastic, too much sorrow sidled in, sorrow at what should be, at what was destined to be, but never could be.
Instead of storming off in a huff and leaving him, leaving him, John sat down on the edge of the bed. Sherlock's heart started racing, and he blinked more furiously.
"I can help you by being here for you, you impossible man. If you would tell me what the problem is, I am sure we can figure something out."
"I don't deserve this."
"You don't deserve what?" a puzzled look, John's brow crinkled.
He had said it aloud.
Just lovely. Now I am losing my mind. I don't know whether I am talking out loud or not.
Looking up at John all he saw was kindness and compassion and patience while he felt horrible, terrible, awful, confused.
He opened his mouth and closed it before the horrible, horrible want and need could come out. Before he said the words that would drive John away. Words that had to be erased eliminated.
Those awful, betraying words.
He tried again.
"I think I love you."