The Gay Is On (Johnlock)

Chapter 10

It was three more weeks before Sherlock was fully healed.

His ribs had (finally) healed fully, and his leg had made a remarkable recovery as well. Sherlock could walk, run, and breathe normally again.

John had been with him 24/7 through his long, painful recovery. He had become scarily thin, and his face looked tired and sallow. However, he would do it all over again for Sherlock.

Sherlock, for the first time in his life, hadn't noticed John's turn for the worst. All he wanted to do was hold John's hand, sleep, and eat. John stayed up many nights in a row, sleeping only about 12 hours total in Sherlock's six week recovery process.

Sherlock only loved John more because John had stayed with him. John had fulfilled his every need, and Sherlock was unimaginably grateful.

Sherlock was thinking this as he fell asleep, John still awake.

Sherlock awoke the next morning feeling amazing and ready for the day. This is the first time he's felt this way in a long time.

"Morning." John croaked, startling Sherlock. Why was he still in Sherlock's room?

"John, why aren't you in your bed?"

"I don't want to sleep without knowing you're o-okay."

"You could have slept in my bed, at least." Sherlock said. He looked at John, really looked at him, and rushed to the ground where John was sitting, propped against the wall.

"John..you..you look...how much sleep have you gotten?!"

John just shook his head.

"John, you need to sleep."

"No, Sh-Sherlock, last time I slept, you left, and then the g-gang members--"

Sherlock held John by his shoulders and then brought him into a tight but gentle hug. "John, please." He said, his voice cracking. "Go to sleep."

John was already nodding off in Sherlock's arms. Sherlock's strong, warm arms were better than any pillow.

Sherlock gently picked John up. John's head rested against his chest. He placed John down under the covers on his bed. As soon as Sherlock was sure he was asleep, he kissed him gently on the cheek. Sherlock pulled the curtains closed and let John sleep for as long as he had to.

{Time Lapse}

John didn't wake up until three days later. When his eyes opened, his first thought was Sherlock.

He wasn't there.

"SHERLOCK!" John yelled.

"John, it's okay, I'm here, I'm here," Sherlock said, rushing into his bedroom. He was shirtless, with a towel wrapped around his waist. His hair was dripping. John realized he had just come from the shower. He blushed instinctively, and closed his eyes again to get his bearings. "I'm sorry, Sherlock." John whispered.

Sherlock stroked John's cheek. "It's okay, John. I'll be right back, okay? Sitting here naked on a bed with you is tempting, but now isn't the time." Sherlock winked, and left. John couldn't think of a time when his cheeks were redder.

{Time Lapse}

After both of the men had showered and dressed, John sat down in his chair and Sherlock sat in the chair opposite.

"Sherlock?"

"Yes, my dear John?"

John looked down and smiled. He looked back up and asked seriously, "What um, day is it?"

"It's Friday, John. You slept for 72 hours straight." Sherlock was smiling.

"Bloody hell," John whispered. "Have you been okay? Any pain? I know the doctors said that you were 100%, but--"

Sherlock silenced John with a kiss. John had been so distracted while talking that Sherlock could sneak over to his chair. John didn't resist, immediately running his hands through Sherlock's hair and moaning softly, unable to control himself. Sherlock smiled within the kiss. He could get used to this. He reluctantly pulled away and touched his forehead to John's.

"John, there's something I've been meaning to ask you."

"Go ahead," John said.

Sherlock was shaking a bit--he was nervous, John thought. But why?

"John, as you know better than anyone, the thought of someone you love being injured or..d-dying, is a thought unbearable to anyone. I faked my death a while ago, and the reason of that was solely to protect the people I love. I know it hurt you, John, and I am so sorry. However, there is nobody in the world I love more than you." At this moment, John drew in a breath. He saw Sherlock reach into his pocket, and gasped again. "The day I was attacked, I had just finished buying you this surprise. The way you sat by my bedside without comfort is enough to convince me that this choice will hopefully be the best decision of my life." Sherlock pulled out a little box, and opened it. "John, will you marry me?"