It was late when John got back from work and returned to 221B Baker Street. He'd dropped his coat on the small leather sofa as soon as he'd walked in and flopped down on his arm chair. When he heard a low grumble behind him he turned and looked back to the sofa, just in time to see his jacket move and fall onto the floor as a tired-looking and confused Sherlock Holmes emerged from underneath. John laughed.
"Oh, sorry, Sherlock," he said with a grin. "I didn't see you there."
"I was in my Mind Palace," he grumbled, shaking out his curls with his hands. "Where've you been? I called you about a few hours ago."
John sighed. "Sherlock, I go out to work during the day. I haven't been home since nine this morning."
"Well... I still called you."
John rolled his eyes and smiled.
"Called me for what? What could've been so important?" John asked out of curiosity. Sherlock ignored him and stretched back out onto the sofa like a cat, closing his eyes.
John shook his head, standing up and saying, "I'll make some tea."
Ten minutes later after having some tea and a quick bite to eat, John was back in his armchair and sherlock had taken his violin in hand and was playing some new melodies. John said to his friend, "You know, I'm sure there was something going on today..." Sherlock stopped playing to let him speak. "...Some sort of holiday."
Sherlock quickly said, "Um, I'm sure it's nothing."
"Hang on," John said quietly. "Sherlock, what's today's date?"
"I have no idea," Sherlock replied, although he knew exactly what date it was. John quickly hopped up to grab the laptop, checking the date in the corner of the screen. He cursed under his breath. It was February 14th.
"Sherlock," John said quietly. "It's Valentine's Day."
Sherlock put down the violin and sighed. "Yes, I know."
"Then why didn't you say?"
"I, uh..." Sherlock trailed off, sitting back down in his armchair. "I decided against it."
"Why?" John asked, sitting back down in his chair. Sherlock sighed.
"I hate February the fourteenth. I always have," he explained quietly. "I had a lot of bad experiences as a child to do with *Valentine's Day*." He said the words as if they sickened him. Maybe they did.
John nodded slowly. "Like what?" It wasn't often Sherlock spoke of his childhood, so he may as well grasp the opportunity. Sherlock frowned.
"Back when people used to call me by my true name... William..." he began, slightly shuddering as he heard his real name, "lots of the other children used to call me names. It was normal for them to do so. But on Valentine's Day, they used to force me to be around this girl, um..."
He closed his eyes momentarily. "Lucy, I think she was called. She was undoubtedly pretty by society's standards, but I just never showed any interest in her. Eventually all the other kids realised that I was-"
He cut himself off and looked away from John, his face instantly flushing scarlet. "They all realised I was..."
"Yeah, I know," John said, even though it was a shock to him. It wasn't the thought of Sherlock being gay that surprised him, but the fact that Sherlock had any sort of feelings at all.
"John... you're not against it, are you?" he asked, though his face was still crimson. "I never cared what people thought of me anyway, but I would appreciate it if you didn't think any less of me."
