Won't Let My World Fall

Chapter 4

(Sherlock's POV)

        During the cab ride home, Sherlock called Lestrade to tell him about the murder and subsequent chase. He didn't say anything about the unknown something that had been lost in the river, nor John's accidental swim. "We lost him at a bridge over the Thames between Oxford and Thame." Sherlock told him before hanging up. John watched as he stared resolutely out the window, his face set. "Sherlock?" He said softly. "Sherlock, are you okay?" He tried again.

"I'm fine." Sherlock said flatly.

"Are you sure?" John kept pushing. "You weren't quite yourself...back there." Sherlock turned further away, embarrassed and angry at himself. God, that was stupid. Shelock thought, berating himself, John's probably angry now. He always gets so upset whenever anyone suggests we're a couple and now I've gone and subjected him to the world's longest totally platonic hug. How could I be so stupid?! Because really, Sherlock's only concern was never to scare John away and lose his friendship. Besides, it wasn't like he had any romantic feelings for John. No way, they were just very good friends. It was all just hype from the media. Just talk. And even if it were true, it's not like Sherlock had any intention of acting on his feelings...completely hypothetical feelings...because John 100% did not feel the same and it would ruin their friendship. Hypothetically, of course.

"I'm fine," Sherlock snapped at John, whose face, in the millisecond Sherlock saw it before John turned away, betrayed hurt and worry. Great, now he is upset. "I'm...sorry." He mumbled. He could feel himself blushing as John looked at him. "Okay," John said quietly, then gently touched Sherlock's shoulder and let go. Sherlock barely moved the rest of the cab ride.

(John's POV)

When they arrived at the flat, John headed into his room to change into dry clothes. Sherlock remained in the kitchen. John was very surprised, upon his return, to find a cup of tea waiting for him. "Thanks," he said. Sherlock was at his desk, engrossed in his laptop, and did not reply, though John saw him blush again. He sat down in his armchair, facing the desk, "What are you doing?" Sherlock still didn't reply or look around. "So you're ignoring me now?" John probed, "Or is this just because I called you a heartless bastard?" He was just blindly guessing to make Sherlock talk, but Sherlock's hands faltered over his keyboard. John hesitated, "You know I don't actually think you're heartless...right?"

"Why wouldn't you?" Sherlock muttered.

"Because you're not." John stood up and move closer to the desk. "Because I know you, the real you. And you are a good person, really, and I care about you and I'm pretty sure you care about me too." Sherlock was staring, wide-eyed, at John now. He opened his mouth, closed it again and gave John his deduction look. John waited for Sherlock to say something. In retrospect, he never could quite predict Sherlock. Sherlock moved forward hesitantly and kissed him.