The Doctor And The Detective (Johnlock)

Ten

Sherlock sat on his hands. He could barely contain his emotion. What had he been thinking, leaving John again like that? He wondered if Mycroft knew he was going back. Of course Mycroft knew. Mycroft knew everything. He sighed and leaned his head back on the seat of the taxi he was in. He'd been so scared when John had hung up. He was ashamed to say he'd started crying like a baby. He'd genuinely thought John was dead.

Was it he who'd caused John to get drunk? Probably. His flatmate was most likely trying to 'drown his sorrows'. Why on earth did John care about Sherlock so much? All the detective brought was trouble and hectic chaos. He wondered what John would say to him when he got back. He'd sounded so relieved on the phone when they'd talked. Would he be as relieved when Sherlock got back?

Sherlock swallowed. What was happening to him? Why did he suddenly care what John was going to say to him? He cared about John. He cared about others before John, but the care he had for John was so much stronger. It drove deep within him, pierced his heart. Was he in love with his flatmate? Sherlock didn't even want to think what would happen if he was.

"Sir, we're here," The cabbie said, and Sherlock realised they'd stopped. He nodded to the driver and payed her. She smiled. "You seeing someone again?" She nodded to his phone. Sherlock bit his lip.

"Something like that." He slid out of the cab and made himself walk dignified to the door of 221B. As soon as he was through, however, he broke into a run, rushing up the stairs and into the lounge room. 

John was sitting on the couch with his hands tapping on his legs. He stood when Sherlock came in, his eyes wide and glistening. Sherlock smiled. 

"Um, if you're going to yell at me for leaving, please don't hesitate t-" Sherlock was cut off by John barrelling into his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around him. Sherlock didn't hesitate to squeeze back, the tears that had been stinging behind his eyes suddenly being let free. He let out a strangled sob and hugged John tighter. 

John pulled away, smiling through his tears up at Sherlock. Sherlock smiled back, his heart swelling. Fuck him, he's too bloody adorable. Sherlock thought, scrubbing the tears away with his sleeve. He wondered if he should speak first. He wanted to say how much regret he felt at leaving John, not just the second time but the first as well. He wanted to tell John how much he cared about him, and that he now understood what it was like to think someone close to you was dead. He wanted to pour out everything he had been feeling, all the emotions he had suppressed and pretended not to have since day one. All these things, and Sherlock could only think of two words to say them as one.

John beat him to it. "I'm sorry," he sighed. "I'm sorry I made such a big deal about it, and got drunk and cut myself and stuff - it was stupid. I made you panic for no reason. I was panicking, I wasn't thinking straight. I just thought I'd lost you again, and that's really hard. I don't- I can't-" John stammered on the last bit. Sherlock cut him off by hugging him again. John hugged back.

He wanted to say sorry too, but somehow his tongue only managed to make a queer squeaking sound. John stood back and sighed. Sherlock could feel his own heart pumping inside his chest, beating fast and loud. He wondered if it was so loud that John could hear it too. He doubted it. But it was so loud, too loud. Sherlock frowned. "How strange. I think I'm exited."

"You... think...?" 

"Well, I can't be sure, but my heart's pounding, from the reflection I see in your eyes my pupils have dilated and for some time now I've been unable to stop smiling." 

John grinned. "...Yeah, you're exited." He laughed. "Wow, that's the first time I've seen you genuinely exited about something other than murder." 

Sherlock smiled, then bent forward and pressed his lips against John's before he could tell himself not to. John tensed under him, but then relaxed and kissed back, his fingers snaking around Sherlock's neck and into his hair. Sherlock, likewise, snaked his fingers into John's.

(Thanks guys for helping me reach my goal from last chapter.  Wonder if we can get to 20+ reads and 10+ votes?)
(This used a writing prompt from https://www.wattpad.com/325300564-hand-picked-stars-writing-prompts-dialogue-prompt)