Much thanks to Johnsarmylady for betaing and Britpicking this chapter for me! :-)
As the door clicked shut, John lifted his head. The amount of tension radiating through Sherlock's body was amazing and John couldn't stop the image of the taller man vibrating around the room from running through his mind. Only the seriousness of their current situation stopped him from laughing. One look at Sherlock's clenched fists and John knew things would end badly if not handled right.
He tried to speak but his mind had gone blank. It seemed Sherlock had the opposite problem because words started to flow out of his mouth like a rushing brook. Unfortunately, they weren't the ones John wanted to hear.
"I'm afraid Molly has always loved a good fairy tale. What nonsense, you being in love with me." Sherlock paused for a ragged breath, "I mean, the idea of the two of us being in love with one another. Because, of course, I don't, you don't, I'm not…" His words trailed off as his shoulders drooped.
Knowing Sherlock only stumbled over his words on the rare occasions he was expressing sentiment, and terrified of people mocking him for it; John stood up and leaned forward. There, on the face he knew as well as his own, was a banquet of emotions: frustration, fear, hopelessness and just beneath the rest was what John so desperately wished for: love. Taking a moment to view Sherlock's actions with new information was life changing.
Not wanting to waste anymore time, John made his way around the table and turned Sherlock towards him before yanking him down by his scarf ends. Not stopping until they were eye level, John smiled at the surprised look facing him.
"She wasn't wrong," he shared. "I am in love with you and have been for some time now."
Not waiting for an answer, John framed Sherlock's face with his hands, thumbs sliding over smooth cheekbones.
"I love you," he whispered once more before drawing Sherlock into a tender kiss. As their lips met, John heard a pained moan.
Afraid he might have been mistaken in his deductions, he started to lean back but it seemed John's lips leaving his was not something Sherlock would allow, now that he'd experienced the wonderful sensation. He threw his arms around his partner and pulled him tightly against his chest, chasing after another kiss. A kiss that showed more enthusiasm than finesse but John didn't mind. They had plenty of time to work on such things.
After Sherlock broke away to catch his breath, John rested their foreheads together. He watched as Sherlock tried to get his emotions under control. After a choked, "I love you," escaped kiss bruised lips, John ran his thumbs over Sherlock's cheeks once more, hoping his soft caresses would help to center his love.
For a few minutes, the two men were silent. Both content to bask in the knowledge they were now in possession of the one thing they desired most: the other's heart.
A text alert from Sherlock's phone jolted them out of their little bubble and John laughed when Sherlock seemed to jump a few inches in surprise. After giving him a few seconds to read the message, John asked, "Important?"
While typing a response, Sherlock answered, "Yes, from Lestrade. He says they've found our victim's wife. She just returned from being on holiday with a friend. Well I say friend, lover would be the correct word. Anyway, Lestrade wants us to be there when they bring her in for questioning."
"Do we have time to get something to eat first?" John asked. A hopeful look in his eyes since they'd missed lunch.
Putting his phone in a coat pocket, Sherlock smiled. "I would imagine so. There is that little Thai restaurant you love close to the Yard."
"Oh and I've been craving their Koong Phao!"
After giving a quick look around to make sure he wasn't leaving anything behind, John gave a nod and headed for the door, Sherlock just behind.
As they made their way down the hallway, John reached over and took a long hand in his, entwining their fingers. A look of delight filled Sherlock's face.
"You know," John said, "I'm going to have a get nice bouquet of flowers for Molly as a thank you."
"Oh no, flowers end up in the waste bin in only a matter of days! It needs to be something else," Sherlock paused for a moment, thinking. "No, I think we should send her and Lestrade on a blind date. I've had enough of those two. The way they act, they could be characters in a Regency romance."
"What do you know about Regency romances?"
Sherlock waved his free hand through the air. "It was for a case."
"Of course it was," John laughed as he nudged Sherlock's shoulder with his own.
The two men waited for the lift to reach their floor.
"You know," John said, "I was thinking, after we finish with Lestrade, it might be nice to open that bottle of wine Mycroft gave me for Christmas last year." Seeing the look on Sherlock's face at the mention of his brother, he hurried on. "Then I thought we might play some quiet music and do one of your favorite things."
John paused a moment for effect and then brought the other man's head down so he could whisper; "dance," into one of his ears. Suddenly, John found himself yanked away from the lift and towards the door leading to the stairwell.
"What are you doing?"
Not stopping to explain himself, Sherlock began to race up the stairs, his grip on John's hand firm.
"The lift is still on the second floor. Too long a wait, this way is faster! We'll give Lestrade half an hour and get take away from the restaurant. I'll text Mrs. Hudson and tell her to chill the wine in a bucket of ice and water for us. Then, while you eat I'll clear some space in the living room."
Before John could comment, he found himself pushed against a cold wall, Sherlock gave him a brief, hard kiss before starting them back up the stairs.
Giggling, John thought, 'I don't care what he says, I'm sending Molly a dozen deep pink roses and if Greg sees them and gets the wrong idea, well, a little jealousy on his part won't hurt them when they go on their blind date.'
Hearing Sherlock call out, "Come on, hurry!" made John realize he had slowed down while distracted. He took a deep breath and ran up the stairs. There were all sorts of possibilities waiting for them tonight and he wasn't going to waste any more time.
A/N: According to , deep pink rose blooms convey deep gratitude and appreciation.