Thirty-Six Questions to Fall in Love

Question 36 (Part 1)

"Do you want to finish the-" Sherlock paused, unsure of what it had become. "the experiment?"

John nodded at him. Sherlock grinned and rubbed his hands together as he walked over to sit next to John and began to ask the final question.

"Question thirty-six: Share a personal problem and ask your partner's advice on how he or she might handle it. Also, ask your partner to reflect back to you how you seem to be feeling about the problem you have chosen," Sherlock read out loud from the tiny screen of John's phone, even though he knew all the questions by heart anyway.

John rubbed the nape of his neck and twisted his earbuds around his fingers. "Um... I-I don't... I don't know..." John stammered. "Nothing... nothing comes to mind." His eyes darted around the room, searching for something to focus on so that maybe his throat wouldn't feel so tight and his heart wouldn't feel as if it were beating out of his chest.

"Oh come on, John," Sherlock replied, "You must have something."

"Well you see..." John cleared his throat, "I- uh... I have this... friend." John took a deep breath and let everything loose. He looked down at his glistening palms and couldn't believe how much he was sweating. "And uh-"

Sherlock nodded and waited patiently.

"Right. So this friend, let's say hypothetically..." The room started to spin as John tried to get the words out, he couldn't even sit next to Sherlock it was making his stomach feel like it might explode. He got up and started pacing like Sherlock normally would when he was trying to think. "This friend was more than a friend to me... hypothetically. And I don't know if I'm-" John looked away, not daring to look into Sherlock's eyes. They might just see right through his soul. "I don't know if they- if they feel the same way about me. And if they didn't... and I told them... I might just lose... I might just lose my best friend." John's voice began cracking at the thought of losing Sherlock. "Hypothetically," he added. John still refused to look up and instead he looked down at his shoes. It looked as if they were shaking just like the rest of his body.

"John?"

"Sherlock I-"

"John, are you talking about Lestrade?"

John was stunned, taken aback. Here was Sherlock, this absolute genius, sitting centimetres away from him, and he couldn't understand what he had meant. Even after going through a whole experiment together, even after watching his pupils dilate time and time again, this was one puzzle he couldn't work out.

"What... What? No! No I'm not talking about Lestrade." John took a deep breath and finally gave in. He looked up at Sherlock, right into his eyes. But it wasn't as scary as he thought it would be, it actually felt... right. "I'm talking about... you."

There was an exasperated beat of silence, and then Sherlock said "Oh." and then they froze, staring at each other like they had learned to do throughout all the questions before.

"I..." Sherlock tried to think of what to say. He was never at a loss for words before. Not like this. "John, I..."

"It's okay, Sherlock." John sighed, expecting this. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"No," Sherlock replied, his expression changing rapidly, softening, his eyes looking at different points in the room as he tried to think of what to say. "You should have."

John swallowed nervously, his eyes finally looking up and meeting Sherlock's. "I... I what?"

"John, I am very sure that you are not deaf regardless of the fact that your hearing may be slightly damaged from Afghanistan, so, therefore, I'm also very sure that you heard me perfectly." Sherlock said, stalling since he had no idea what to say. His stomach felt... weird. Fluttery, perhaps. He hadn't felt that until very recently. He still wasn't used to it.

"But," John shifted in his seat a bit. "But what do you mean?"

Sherlock nervously cleared his throat. "It means, um..." In all bluntness, he had absolutely no idea what to do. This was confusing, because he always knew what to do. He didn't like being confused; it threw him off. He pursed his lips, his eyebrows strained so closely together that they could have began to make a knot if they wanted to. Think, he told himself. Just think. Don't be the stupid one Mycroft always said you were.

John, knowing now that he had close to nothing to lose, sighed and decided to confess completely, perhaps to clear confusion but more likely to fill the empty silence. In most circumstances, silence was good. But not now. Definitely not now.

"Sherlock," John almost whispered, laughing nervously and tapping his fingers against his knee, "I don't know how else to deliver this, but, um..." he cleared his throat, shifting his weight once more in his seat. "I... oh, sod it. Sod this. Sod everything. To be blunt, I have feelings for you."

Sherlock, feeling his ears grow hot and his nose begin to tickle at the end of it, still felt the need to clarify. "Like..." He looked down at the shiny material of his chair. "Like what kind of feelings?"

So John, telling himself that he was done hesitating, took a deep breath, closing his eyes and letting the sentence tumble out.

"I'm in love with you." he admitted, feeling the words in his mouth escape past his lips. But again, it didn't feel as scary as he imagined. It was Sherlock he was talking to after all, it felt like he should have said it all along. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but, Sherlock bloody Holmes, I am in love with you."