Tall Buildings and Pill Bottles - A Johnlock Story

Angelo's

Johns POV

Sherlock continued his playing until about 4 pm which is when we both began to get ready. I felt incredibly awkward as we both shuffled around the flat, getting ready, however, Sherlock made no notice of it. When it was nearly 6, I stepped out to the living room in a cream colored jumper and trousers. Sherlock wore his violet button down shirt and his usual dress pants.

I stared at him open mouthed for a moment, unable to speak. Although I'd seen him in this outfit before, it took on a new look with the knowledge of our feelings. He gave me a confused glance and grabbed his coat. "Ready?" I nodded, clearing my throat and we left promptly.

The walk to Angelo's was blissfully pleasant. We talked about trivial things but in a light hearted manner, and peaceful manner. It was nice to talk to Sherlock about such unimportant things and still feel totally lost in the conversation. We reached Angelo's as the sun was beginning to set. We sat at the same table that we had in our first case together. I laughed at the fact, and I saw the corners of Sherlock's lips quirk upwards. I could hardly remember the fact we were not alone.

We chatted idly waiting for our food. Sherlock had ordered simply a salad, while I had ordered some Italian pasta dish. When I realized that Sherlock had ordered only the salad, I frowned. I regained my composure, but Sherlock noticed my disapproval. "What is it?" His tone was confused, he apparently didn't think anything of his diet.

"You haven't eaten all day, Sherlock, you should have something more." I tried to keep the worry out of my voice and failed miserably. Sherlock furrowed his brow and waved his hand dismissively. "Not hungry." I sighed, looking down and not satisfied with this answer. My hand was resting on the table, and he reached out to grab it. I looked up, surprised. Sherlock's eyes had softened, his voice open. "It's not like that John. I am not systematically starving myself." I was a taken back by Sherlock's words.

"Good," was all I could manage out, my throat had gone incredibly dry. Sherlock did not pull his hand away, neither did I. Our hands remained together as we talked about other subjects, and waited for our food. By the time our food arrived, I'd learned a lot more about Sherlock's childhood with Mycroft. Mycroft had apparently always locked himself away with his studies, leaving a lonely Sherlock. According to him, he was happy this way, however, I scarcely believed it. There seemed to be more there, but he clearly didn't wish to talk about it.

Angelo himself delivered our food, remarking on how he'd bring a candle to make it more romantic. I laughed again, at the similarity of our first case. When Angelo had bustled away, I ran my thumb over Sherlock's knuckles, feeling the bones through the layer of pale skin.

"I grew up with Harry, although we don't talk much anymore. We were always close growing up, we had a special bond. When she got her first girlfriend, I remember her coming home with a black eye and busted lip. I held her as she cried, and the next day, I found the kids and made sure they'd never do it again. I was only 18 at the time when it happened, her only 16. When she began drinking, we fought, said some stuff we didn't mean, and.. " I let myself trail off, not exactly wanting to get into the subject. Sherlock squeezed my hand lightly, before removing it and began eating. I dug into my food, while Sherlock picked at his salad. I gave him a glare, and he began eating his salad fully.

I offered to pay when the time came, but Sherlock insisted. Angelo had indeed brought out a candle, but I'd been too wrapped up in the conversation to notice. It was nearly 8 pm when we walked out, and into a park. The sun was not quite set, it still peaked out from behind the London skyline. The sky was filled with a beautiful orange glow of the setting sun. It looked as though the sky was on fire. I was staring at it as we walked in comfortable silence.

"Isn't it beautiful?"  I asked quietly, staring up at the blazing sky. I heard Sherlock murmur in agreement and I glanced over at him. He too was staring into the blaze, eyes glowing in the light. His dark curls caught the rays of light, giving them an almost darkened gold hue. He soon sensed my gaze and turned his head to mine. We'd stopped at some point and we now stood in the cold evening with the sun refusing to go to bed like an insistent child.

I reached up and brushed a curl out of his eyes. I felt his breath hitch and smiled faintly. I felt Sherlock begin to close the gap between us. I closed the remaining bit of gap in a swift movement. I let my eyes fall shut as our lips met. Sherlock locked his arms around me and I melted into his form. His lips felt soft and warm against my own in the freezing air. I felt Sherlock's smile as we kissed, and I fell in love with the moment. After a moment I pulled away, breathing heavier than before. Our foreheads rested together, and I stared into his eyes. Amazingly, they were staring back. I smiled and kissed him softly again. The sun had fully gone down and the stars danced gracefully in the dark. The intertwined with it, twinkling brightly.

"Sherlock?" I asked between kisses. "Hmm," was his only reply, dipping down, placing his lips on mine again. "Care to be my boyfriend?" I asked, my voice full of anticipation. He pulled back a tad, just enough where I could see his full expression. His lips were quirked into his infamous crooked smile, and his eyes were brighter than any of the stars above. "Oh God yes," Sherlock kissed me once more and wrapped his arm around my waist as we looked at the sky. I couldn't keep the smile off my face, and I didn't even need to look at him to know he couldn't either.

"I suggest we take a cab back, it's getting dark." Sherlock murmured against my ear, as we stood side by side, lost in the moment. I laughed lightly and nodded. After a few moments of neither of us wanting the night to be over, Sherlock flagged one down and held the door open for me. I stepped in and waited for Sherlock to climb in on the other side. Once he did, I placed my hand in the middle of the cab, leaving it open for him to take. I felt silly doing so, but smiled when he took my hand. The ride home was spent peacefully enjoying the sensation of our hands clasped together.

Once we had gotten back to the flat, I began making tea for Sherlock when I heard Sherlock talking to Mrs.Hudson, his deep baritone voice rumbling through the house as it always did. I smiled at the sound and poured the cups of tea. I felt Sherlock wrap his arms around my waist, and he rested his head on my shoulder. "Did you tell Mrs. Hudson?" Sherlock snorted and I handed him his tea.

"I didn't need to, she guessed." I laughed, she'd always made little comments indicating a relationship between the two of us. "I suppose it would be hard to keep this from her." I pressed my lips to Sherlock's forehead. I was surprised about my own instant comfort in physical affection with Sherlock, and even more surprised with his instant comfort. His arms were still around my waist, and I shifted so that I was facing him. His dark curls fell just above his eyes, their colors contrasting so vividly. He set down his cup, as did I.

Suddenly his lips were on mine again, but who had moved first, I couldn't remember. I tangled my hands in his hair and he pushed me back against the counter so that I was leaning against it. The kiss deepened and Sherlock moved his hands so that they were gripping my waist and pressing me to him. We would've continued like that for a while if it hadn't been for Mrs. Hudson walking in.

"Boys, I'm heading to the shop tomorrow, is there any- oh my. Sorry dears, I didn't mean to be interrupting anything." My entire face was red, and Sherlock grabbed a list from the counter and handed it to her, wishing her a good night. She apologized again as she shifted out of the room. As soon as she was gone, Sherlock sighed, standing in the middle of the kitchen, arms hanging loosely by his sides, his eyes still on the entrance to the kitchen. "Timing, what is it with people and timing." I chuckled and walked over to him where he stood in the middle of the kitchen.

"We can always continue in the morning, love. Goodnight," I gave him a final kiss and headed up to my own room. Before I left the room, I heard Sherlock's murmur. "I suppose we can," and saw his crooked smirk. One thing I did hope, was that Sherlock would tell me about his suicide attempts, and soon. I knew he was getting depressed again, and I wanted to do whatever I could.

AN: OMG Sherlock season 4 is just killing me! The Lying Detective just destroyed me!