Sherlock's Secret

Part 4

It was finally Christmas. Although Sherlock hated Christmas and didn't understand why they had to celebrate but John had insisted, Sherlock couldn't help but give in. The decorations were up and John had even manged to sneak a bit of mistletoe into the flat, which he was thrilled about, without Sherlock noticing. He had a plan, not a very good one but it was the best he could do. He needed this plan to work otherwise he would spend another year wondering why he wasn't good enough. They would spend Christmas together and John would cook dinner and then later in the day they would end up 'accidentally' under the mistletoe just at the perfect time. 

He would finally kiss Sherlock and he would know how that beautiful coal black hair would feel like laced in his fingers. John had not worked up the courage, he doubted he ever would, to ask about the other man that had been in the flat but when John had gone into the flat Sherlock seemed worried and upset so John chose to assume he was an ex. This played on John's mind every night as he stared at his ceiling or when he sat close enough to Sherlock while watching TV that he could hear his soft breathing. Although Sherlock had mentioned a long time ago that he had archenemies, John disagreed and made his own stories up because lets be honest they would probably make more sense then anything out of Sherlock's mouth.

John had a feeling that he might have liked the man a bit more then his originally straight mind may have wanted. His brain thought maybe Sherlock didn't feel the same but Sherlock loved him so that wouldn't make sense, that didn't stop John's mind though. His brain raced with 'what if's and 'maybe's. It was all very confusing to a man who had NEVER even looked at a man twice in the way he looked at Sherlock. His eyes would scan Sherlock as if he himself could make a 3D version just for himself. He wondered if Sherlock ever noticed or if Sherlock ever looked at him like that. John was sullen for a moment as he realised that a great genius such as Sherlock Holmes does not waste time examining pointless specimen like John, but John well he was very wrong. 

Sherlock spent what time he had when he truly thought John wasn't looking to admire what a beautiful man John was. He would spend hours thinking that something so perfect could only be made by a God which he did not believe him. But when John stood in front of the Christmas tree and the lights shine almost too bright Sherlock would swear he saw an angle. But John never asked in fear Sherlock would become upset or avoid the question or pull the normal stunt of just plainly ignoring him or leaving the room without another word. 

John more then anything just wanted to keep Sherlock with him but this plan may tear them apart. John couldn't help feeling morbid thinking of a life without the brilliant man but he had to know whether it was love or just another game. The story of Maggie Tyler is a strange one as she seem to just fall off the earth. John had many thoughts of what may of happened to her, she must have had many enemies. One thing was for sure Maggie never came back to see John and Sherlock so they went on living there lives, together, but Sherlock seemed different. John was very uncertain that he would never know why Sherlock was different he just knew that as long as Sherlock was there he would be okay. But then again...would Sherlock always be there?

John sat next to Sherlock and pulled the last present from under the tree, that shone bright enough to blind, it was neatly wrapped with a big bow on top with a note attached.

To Sherlock,

I know your aren't one for presents but this one is special. You are my dearest friend and for a long time I have never told you how important you are. I only wish I could tell you in words how much I care for you. Instead I am forced to show my love in a small token of my appreciation. Merry Christmas Sherlock, here is to many more!

Love John x

Sherlock examined it as it lay in John's hands so tentatively John pushed it towards him. "Here you go." John smiled wide while Sherlock thanked him politely although there seemed to be a whispered 'I love you' in the words. He unwrapped the gift with shaking hands but John was too full of Christmas spirit to even notice. Although he did notice when Sherlock took in a sharp breath and an unexpected tear slipped down his face. John's brain raced but Sherlock didn't cry, ever. He could pretend, if you asked John he was pretty damn good at it, but this was different. John felt his heart hammer against his chest and before his brain could stop him his heart began to work his body raising one hand to Sherlock's shoulder.

Sherlock held the gift tightly to his chest and berried his face into it before giving John a look of disbelief. A large woolly jumper lay in Sherlock's arms lazily, it looked perfect there as if made to be in Sherlock's arms. The jumper Sherlock had clung to when John had left. Wrapping his arms around John, his only friend and companion, hugging him tight as if letting go would mean John would vanish into thin air or float away into space. Although it was comforting and enjoyable John hated the way he could feel all of Sherlock's ribs pushing out of his skin and his eyes looked dark, sunken into his skull like a dying man although he was almost certain it was lack of sleep, as they leaked clear salty water that ran down over his cheekbones like waterfalls. John wiped the tears away with a look of concern and spoke. 

"Shall we call it a night?" They had dinner earlier and John was genuinely tired although in his mind he only wished Sherlock would curl up against him in his bed instead of laying in the dark alone. Sherlock nodded hurried to wipe away the tears that lingered on his face. He went to stand he turned to the door starting towards it as if trying to run from this horribly uncomfortable and emasculating situation but John didn't see that. John saw a brave man who carried the world on his shoulders and he was hounded to see this side to Sherlock and so before Sherlock could run he grabbed his hand.

Jumping a little at the boldness of John's touch Sherlock watched as John pointed up to the mistletoe above them. Sherlock stood frozen fear bubbling inside of him. He was dying to scream at John that he couldn't, run and slam the door like a distressed teen but he didn't. Sherlock looked into the eyes of the man he had grown to love, in that moment he was lost and John was the only thing holding him in place. In that moment before Sherlock could stop himself he lent down and pressed his lips to John's. His lips were soft and wet. They screamed of the unspoken words 'I love you'. John could feel a slight stubble on his top lip and John pushed himself against him. Him...the man he loved. In that moment his lips were beautiful and perfect...and gone.

Sherlock eventually pulled away when he felt John's tongue pressing against his lips almost begging for entry. Although Sherlock wish he could grant it he must not. "What's wrong?" John's voice was silky and laced with pleasure but Sherlock couldn't do this. He couldn't. "Come to bed with me." John's eyes grew in size and his pupils dilated until you could barley see the colour of his eyes. Sherlock's spoke softly as his thumb brushed over John's lips. Those incredible, blissful and untouchable lips. Sherlock let his mind wounder for a moment as he locked away every deduction he could make into his mind. "Just...hold me. Let me listen to your heart beat and fall asleep to your breathing like a sweet lullaby. Please John. I just...I need that." John looked astonished and Sherlock almost regretted it until he smiled, took his hand and they moved towards the bedroom. They lay for hours in silence listening to each other breathing and enjoying the warmth of one another. They fell asleep as close as they could be clinging to each other as if they were each others last hope. True love was shared in those moments they spent together and that is why Sherlock let his tears flow because he knew this was the life he could never have.