Thank you everyone. Hope I don't disappoint you.
Sherlock kept himself locked for the rest of the night and the whole next day. After repeated pleadings from John he came down at lunch.
"Sherlock I…" John started only to be cut mid-sentence.
"It's okay." He said without looking at John.
"I wanted to say that I understand this is very new to you…"
Sherlock looked up, "which is?"
"This…" John lost words, how could he define this? A beginning of a relationship? Love? Feelings?
"The way we are for the last couple of days…"
Sherlock kept his mask on.
"Don't you understand what I'm talking about?"
"maybe I will if you tell me clearly, John." Voice devoid of any emotion.
What does he want me to say? Why is he acting like this? Why is he making me feel awkward? If I say my feelings now they may very well end up one sided. I can't read him. What is going on here?
John decided to take a more straight forward approach.
"Sherlock, about last night…"
"I'm sorry."
"What?!" John asked, dazed by this sudden and first apology from the man.
"I over reacted a bit. I had to make an urgent call."
John couldn't take this answer seriously, he needed an explanation.
"Sherlock I do believe that the best way to sort things out is to talk about it."
"What's there to talk about?" Sherlock asked incredulously.
John was going beyond confusion and patience. Sherlock took one look and understood. He looked at John closely and said deeply.
"Give me some time, John. Please."
John calmed a bit. After all it was not every day that he got to hear a please from the only consultant detective. But his mind stayed agitated. Some of the things needed to be cleared. Like where were things headed, what did Sherlock feel about him, is there any chance that he reciprocates? For now John decided to keep quite. But they would have to talk soon or else he would go mad.
As soon as Sherlock came back to his room and closed the door, he let out a sigh of relief. That was close. What John started to talk about I wasn't at all prepared for. I thought he would just keep quiet feeling guilty. At least my running did not have a negative impact on the situation. He was not angry with me. Okay I can't delay this further, he will be asking questions again. Okay John, this evening I tell you what you want to hear and in return you'll tell me what I want.
Sherlock came down from his room in the evening to find John in the kitchen. There was an old fashioned fire in the kitchen where food could be cooked; the room was alight with the fire and one electric lamp. The kitchen was stocked. There were muffins on the table and biscuits. John poured tea in the cups and turned around. He gave Sherlock a silent look at the doorway. Sherlock came in and sat at the kitchen table. John served tea and sat in front of him. After a moment of silence John spoke.
"We need to talk."
"About us."
"Yes" John said trying to put some confidence in his voice. I shouldn't think that things would turn out to be the worse, let me try.
Sherlock looked deep into his eyes, put both of his hands under his chin.
John licked his lips and started. "My feelings towards you are no secret to you." Great going John.
Sherlock just held John with his gaze.
"You seem to be appreciative of them." John looked hesitant. At least it seemed like that when we came here.
"Go on." the baritone commanded.
"I want to ask what your feelings about me are."
"You want to know if I'm experimenting on you." Sherlock's voice cold.
"Yes Sherlock. Because this experiment can kill the Guinea pig."
Sherlock turned and looked at the fire with a sigh.
"You see John, the fire can warm us, give life, it can burn us also, take life. All depends on how you use it."
"What do you mean?" John sounded bewildered. His expression pained.
Sherlock checked himself; this is the wrong way to go. I should confirm his ideas about the situation to gain trust. "I'm not very good with emotions John, all this is very new to me. I'm trying by what little means I can to show you that I care. I wouldn't have come here if I hadn't the slightest wish to reciprocate your feelings."
"That doesn't answer my question Sherlock, why are you doing it?"
"Because I want to". Said the baritone warmly. Because I care."
John had his heart in his mouth, his breathing heavy, heart beat almost audible. He said it! The best he can! I haven't but he did. This is true! He does have the same feelings. Oh how could I have ever doubted him? Doubted my Sherlock? He was suppressing his urge to pounce on Sherlock and pour his heart into a kiss. But he restrained himself. Maybe it would be too early for that, it may scare the sociopath again. There still remained a lingering doubt at the back of his mind. He forcefully avoided it.
He tried his best to act normal. The tea had gone cold; he got up with the cups trying very hard to keep steady and avoiding eye contact and poured fresh tea replacing the cold. All the while Sherlock's eyes followed him. As he gave Sherlock his cup nervously, Sherlock caught his hand firmly and stood up in one swift graceful movement. The space between them was dangerously less; John could feel Sherlock's breath, his smell, his eyes piercing John's soul. John felt like he had no brain, his body a trembling leaf made of sensations.
Without any warning Sherlock snaked an arm around John's waist under his jacket. John gasped, his breathing ragged. This was happening too fast. Or should it have happened long before? John's reasoning gave way when he felt Sherlock's other hand on the nape of his neck. He stopped breathing altogether. Before he could let out the breath, before he could grasp what was happening to him Sherlock had pressed his lips firmly on his. It took John a while to come back to his senses; he was paralysed with sensations, his body involuntarily shaking. Soft plush lips rested on his lips, lightly, just grazing now. Not just any lips, not just a girl he had dated for a week and who in another week will turn into oblivion. Not just a kiss which gave physical pleasure. Not just a kiss in any way. Out of ordinary just like Sherlock. It was Sherlock kissing him, the man who controlled him body and soul, the man who owned him ever since they met. The man who made his life worth living, the man he loved most. As John was flushed with emotions he slowly put his hands on Sherlock's shoulders and held him close, he returned the kiss. He felt Sherlock tense; he pressed his lips more against Sherlock's. He could spend his life like this. No other sound except for the fire burning, ragged breathing of two people madly in love. Sherlock was warm, his long limbs made John feel safe, the safest he had ever felt in his life. He felt there were no war, no gunfire, no death, no wound, no nightmares, no danger, they simply couldn't exist. They didn't in Sherlock's embrace.
Oh god! He kissed me back. How can someone crave my touch like this? I need to keep my distance. This is too intense, I should have waited, learned my limits. John's giving the expected reactions, but I'm going beyond my expectations. He's making me feel…no! I can't crave for him, I need him to crave for me or the whole thing would go reverse. I'll be pining for him. I need to be cautious. Have to keep a check on me from the next time of physical encounter such as this. Once I've achieved what I seek I'll considerably lessen such experiences. I just need to play along just for now. Just now. Stay focused. John me kiss. Something is very wrong with this situation. I'm… I'm losing control…over John…over myself! No!
John felt as if somebody took out something from his body when Sherlock withdrew himself awkwardly from him. John felt empty. He was pining for Sherlock's contact and looked at him longingly; he felt his eyelids were moist. For a moment he couldn't understand the look on Sherlock's face, he was too preoccupied with his own feelings. When he did, his heart sank. There was agitation, bewilderment, surprise but no love. Sherlock was exactly the opposite of what John was looking like now.
"What's wrong?" John's voice was broken.
"N-nothing. Why are you crying?" Sherlock saying stammering, his voice disturbed. A frown forming on his face.
"Because I love you so much Sherlock, it hurts. My heart aches with the intensity of our relationship, of our love." John said. This must be so new for him. He must think that I'm sad. Dear Sherlock this is so new to you.
"Relationship?" Sherlock sounded lost. His eyes intensely confused.
"Yes Sherlock, when two people love each other they form a relationship."
"I know that." Sherlock snapped.
John winced and looked back with an anguished look. Doesn't he want that?
No no no John! This is not what I want! I want you to be the way you always were. Helping me on cases, working with me and for me, living with me, being there like you were before. I don't want to change that into some boyfriend girlfriend romance! I just need you to be just like you were and stay with me always. I'm your friend, the others are only acquaintances, I'm your flatmate, and you live with me. Now let me be your love also so there is no space left for anyone else to step in and distract you. I want you John! I want you to love me! just that so you don't leave me. I must have foreseen this situation, how clumsy of me. I need to figure a way out of this. I need to take this easy.
John's look alarmed Sherlock. He halted his thought process.
"Forgive me John, it's just pretty confusing. I want you …I mean us to be exactly like we were before. I don't want to lose your friendship." Sherlock said convincingly.
John's mind was working overtime, it was half alarmed and half bewildered. Something about this situation was not right, something about Sherlock was not right. He struggled to put aside the overwhelming feelings for his flatmate for once and think clearly.
"Being in a relationship doesn't kill the friendship Sherlock; it's just the next step." John said trying to keep his calm.
"Of course. John, as I told you before, I'm new to these emotions, I'm a self-confessed sociopath. Please guide me." Sherlock said matter-of-factly.
"But we won't be exactly the same." John said. His eyes dry, jaw tensed, and body in solider posture.
"Oh." Said Sherlock, curtly. "What exact changes would come?" he asked cautiously.
John closed his eyes and took a deep steadying breath. This was high time he should listen to his intuitions and confront Sherlock; he has been too much in awe with him. His soldier instincts told him to protect himself from potential threat. Sherlock did not look like someone who was in love, nor did he sound like that. He's clever but this is new territory.
John faced Sherlock and said in a cool voice, "You don't love me. Do you Sherlock?"