Pseudo Beau [Johnlock]

10: Mint

After examining the crime scene was said and done, the pair went to the botanical garden as discussed. They arrived about an hour before it closed and the place had now been lit up by small lights along the guided path weaving through the flowers as well as the light given off by the moon itself, rather than sunlight.

John kept behind Sherlock a bit as he walked, not wanting to be too close. He wondered what fully defined a relationship. Did it have to meet Mycroft's standards? This was Sherlock, not some regular bloke who'd easily be persuaded. Maybe, John pondered, that's why this would be so much more difficult.

"It's.. It's nice out." John spoke mostly to himself, as Sherlock had wandered away from the marked path to look at a rarer species of plant. It was labeled with a "caution" marker which indicated that it would be poisonous if ingested.

The area was dark enough and there were only a few other people far across the garden as to hardly be in view. The detective pinched a few leaves off and stuck them in his pocket for later, likely for an experiment. In one swift movement, Sherlock was back on the path they were supposed to be on, the  few people around not noticing, or not caring, about what he had done.

John cleared his throat and looked to Sherlock, but only for a brief second. It didn't matter how short it seemed, because Sherlock had looked back. "Sherlock I-"

"I know, John." Sherlock kept his eyes focused forward, his tone remaining constant throughout. There were no vocal cues as to what he meant. John's face was frozen in a look of bewilderment.

"Know? Know what?" He had to ask. John's nerves were at their peak now. The tremor was back in full force. Sherlock's eyes had moved downward, focused on John's face.

"Nothing. My apologies. What were you going to say?" Sherlock said, turning his attention to a different plant with large, dark green leaves, but John noticed that, in an odd way, he seemed preoccupied.

John sighed and didn't say anything else, despite his thoughts running wild. I have feelings for you? Is that what you want me to say? Give me something, damn it. He didn't know what he was supposed to say or what he was supposed to do in order to make this go smoother. It felt like his stomach was being put through a blender. Sherlock speaking again, tore him out of his mind and back toward the real world.

"I.. Appreciate these simpler things with you too, John." Sherlock's words sounded far away, though the detective was standing relatively close.

"I want to go on another date... With you." John's sentence flew out of his mouth at an incredible speed, almost to the point where he wondered if he had even spoken it at all. The instant they did escape their imprisonment in John's vocal chords, he regretted it. As a very affectionate couple passed by John and Sherlock, the man gave John a judgmental look. His presumed girlfriend elbowed him in his ribs and smacked him upside the head, giving him a lecture as they left. Neither John nor Sherlock paid any attention to him.

Sherlock opened his mouth to reply, but his breath seemingly got stuck on its way out. John watched the detective's lips clench tightly together in a way he had never seen before. He was closer to John now, too. Far closer than usual.

Sherlock's breath smelled of mint. The warmth sent goosebumps down John's arms, causing the hairs to stand on end.  The pad of Sherlock's thumb ran across John's bottom lip. John leaned in to the touch, performing the role Mycroft had desired of him, that of dramatic, lovelorn blogger. This was the role that would earn him money. Money, of course, that he planned on splitting with Sherlock in the end.

Sherlock's voice went a bit low, as John had heard a few rare times before. He knew what Sherlock was going to say, but rather than initiate the action himself, he allowed his body to soak up the words, scrounging for more after they'd left. It made him feel awkward and exposed, not knowing how or why this was happening.

"John, may I kiss you?"