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When John was forced to witness Sherlock and Janine snogging, his gut recoiled in horror, and his reflex action was to stupidly stare at the wall beside him. As if that could undo the awful kiss that was already happening.
He decided to look out the window instead. Nope, the kiss still hadn't stopped, going by those godawful smooch sounds.
He knew it was irrational, damn it. He had a wife waiting at home. A baby on the way. He couldn't possibly still be wanting to punch something every time he saw someone bat an eyelash at Sherlock.
He felt like an arsehole who looked for ways to stake a claim over Sherlock anytime someone dared to cross that 'territory'.
He had no claim over Sherlock. He never did. Not when Irene would flirt with him and send him those bloody texts, not when that weird thing with Moriarty was going on, and definitely not now.
Now Sherlock was in a relationship - unbelievable but true.
Now John was a married man himself. He had lost the right to be jealous over Sherlock - not that he ever had that right in the first place.
That didn't mean he didn't wish he were the one straddling Sherlock's lap instead of Janine. That didn't mean he didn't wish he were the one kissing Sherlock senseless right about now.
No, stop it. Cheating? For both of them (if that sort of thing ever happened between them)? So much for having a moral compass.
Janine left and Sherlock closed the door of the flat behind her.
When Sherlock turned around, his demeanour oddly switched to that of a calculating man.
"Charles Augustus Magnussen." Sherlock clasped his hands as he sat down on his chair and went on and on about how dangerous the man was.
He seemed to have forgotten Janine fairly quickly. Maybe he was very good at compartmentalising. It was Sherlock he was thinking about. Of course, he must be bloody good at that.
John walked over to where Sherlock was sitting and just stood there, staring at his laptop's screen as he pretended to listen. Sherlock was talking about some building called 'Appledore' or something.
To be honest with himself, he just stood there with his lips parted, not listening to a word.
Sherlock Holmes, the world's only consulting detective, once married to his work, now had a girlfriend. Unbelievable.
It all happened so quickly, didn't it? Maybe they clicked together too well. The great detective is in love now, John thought bitterly.
John should've known something was going on between them on his wedding day. The way they were dancing together when he walked in. The way they stood so close - too close to John's liking (not that he had a say) for the wedding photographs.
Here he thought Sherlock loved him the most (in his own way). Two people who love you the most in the world and we have a lifetime ahead to prove that, did that mean nothing? John sniffed.
"Dinner?" John blurted out.
Sherlock stopped midway through his rambling.
"Sorry, what, dinner?" His brows were knitted with confusion.
"Me and Mary, coming for dinner ... with ...wine and ... sitting." Chatting with you and your bloody girlfriend. As if we were neighbours and we had always done that. As if you hadn't shared a flat with me once.
A life with me, more like.
Sherlock turned in his seat and stared at him for a moment. "Seriously? I’ve just told you that the Western world is run from this house." He pointed at Appledore on screen. "And you want to talk about dinner?"
This irritated John to no end. Why the hell was Sherlock acting so odd and nothing similar to what he was like until a month ago? Why was he being so dismissive of him all of a sudden? First that drug incident in the morning and now this? Enough.
John clenched his left hand. Case be damned (for now).
"Yes, I do," John said with a flared nose as he marched toward the laptop to shut the lid.
"John, what the hell?"
"I'd rather talk about this 'dinner' first." John walked over to Sherlock and towered over him with his arms crossed over his chest. "Because I didn't think you'd formed such a deep connection with Janine. I take you met her first on the wedding day?"
Sherlock rolled his eyes. "I just told you -"
"Yes or no?" John demanded.
Sherlock sighed with visible annoyance. "Yes, I did. Your wedding day, as you may recall."
"I bloody well recall that! That was a month ago. I see you two have become a unit already! Getting together to invite me and Mary like that. Well, congratulations."
Part of him felt bad to say all that. He had no right over Sherlock. Still, though, he wasn't going to move on before clearing all that up.
Sherlock kept looking up at John incredulously. "What do you want me to say?"
"Explain!"
Sherlock pressed his lips together. "Why?" He shrugged. "I got back. You got married. I made a girlfriend at your wedding. Life moves on, John."
"Life moves on?" John was breathing heavily as he yelled. "You make me grieve for your fake death for two years. I get married as a way to cope with your loss..."
Sherlock's head snapped up and he was looking directly at John now.
"... A very real loss for me. You meet a woman at my wedding, you start going out with her - after having shown exactly zero interest in another human being before - and suddenly you two are so close with each other that you have become a unit now? You both are inviting me and Mary to dinner as if I'm just another friend of yours?"
Sherlock was giving him a death stare but John didn't care.
"Did you forget you shared a flat - this flat - with me once? That you and I used to work together? Was any of what you said during your speech as my best man real?" John trailed off as he realised he had said too much. He bit his bottom lip.
"Shut the hell up." Sherlock got up from his chair. It was his turn to tower over John now. John was suddenly very aware of their proximity.
"Don't say another word about that speech. And who are you to comment anything on my closeness with Janine? Why do you care who I go out with? What is it to you? It's not like you could wait for a bit. You were already proposing to Mary by the time I arrived at the restaurant to meet you. I begged for your forgiveness, John, and yet you chose to marry someone you barely knew. I could also say a lot about your abnormal closeness with her."
John swallowed with guilt. He couldn't overlook the way their noses were almost touching, though.
"Of course, I didn't forget about those eighteen months! You might as well ask if I had forgotten how to breathe. How could you possibly insinuate I didn't mean every single word of my speech as your best man? You can't expect me to wallow in my love for you for the rest of my life, now, can you?"
John's jaw dropped at that.
"I have a life of my own, thank you very much. Now, if you don't want to work with me on this case, that's on you."
"Come again?"
Sherlock sighed again. "Marriage has slowed you down, I see. I said if you don't want to work with me -"
"No. What did you say just before that?"
"A lot of things. Didn't you hear me?" Sherlock was sharp.
"Why are you dating Janine, again?" John was growing impatient too.
"Really, John? Do keep up -"
John grabbed Sherlock by the collar of his shirt and pressed a searing kiss on his mouth. Sherlock made a surprised sound at the back of his throat, but it didn't take him more than a second to kiss him back.
John placed his other hand on Sherlock's nape and continued to kiss him harder.
Realisation hit him like a train. John stopped the kiss and pushed Sherlock away by his chest.
"I'm sorry!"
Sherlock furrowed his brows. "Why?"
John cleared his throat. "You're not unattached anymore."
Sherlock pulled John close by his waist with both of his hands. "You see, but you don't observe."
"Sorry?"
Sherlock initiated the kiss this time. Without thinking, John began to return those kisses. He had placed both of his arms around Sherlock's shoulders.
"I'm not really dating her," Sherlock said in between his kisses. "It's for this case." He stopped kissing and pulled back a little. "She's Magnussen's PA. I need to gather as much information as I can."
"Oh, you bastard," John gave out a fond laugh as he said that. "Does she know?"
"Yes."
"So, you two did all that in front of me because?"
Sherlock looked down for a second before looking back up at John with flushed cheeks and a mischievous smile.
"Jesus!" John pushed back Sherlock to make him sink into the armchair again. He was now straddling him.
A wave of seriousness hit Sherlock's face and suddenly it wasn't a joke for either of them. He held up John's left hand that bore Mary's wedding ring.
Did they have to talk? Of course. But not now. Right now, John wanted to focus on the two of them. He needed this with Sherlock.
He decided to place the fingers of his left hand on Sherlock's mouth. Sherlock kissed all of them one by one and gave him a single nod in understanding.
John pulled Sherlock by a fistful of his shirt and pressed his mouth against Sherlock's full, heart-shaped one.
Sherlock swept his tongue along John's bottom lip. John was more than happy to give in, and now they were pressing their tongues together.
John groaned as he poured all the pent-up frustration, want, and love that he felt for Sherlock into the kiss. Sherlock let out a relieved sound as he returned all those things John had been feeling for him all this time.
What a horrible timing. He wished all this had happened sooner. He wished he were single. He wished Sherlock hadn't gone away, even though John now knew why he'd done that.
John tried to brush all that aside as he dropped his hands to take off Sherlock's suit jacket.
Sherlock bent forward a little, took it off, and threw it away somewhere on the sitting room floor, without breaking off the kiss.
They both fumbled through each other's shirts, trying not to tear them off, and Sherlock pulled John close by his hips when both of them were finally shirtless.
Sherlock was as hard as he was - incredibly addictive. He had moved his mouth and was kissing John along his jawline now.
John's heart pounded in his ears, and adrenaline flowed through his body, like the thrill of a chase or a new case - only far, far better. He was now together with someone who was actually right for him, in the way he had always wanted to be. In the way they were both meant to be. If only he'd had this clarity sooner!
Sherlock was squeezing John's arse as he began to kiss John's neck. John dropped his head backwards and Sherlock was kissing his throat now. John's throat vibrated against Sherlock's lips as let out a moan.
John reached for Sherlock's trousers to open them. Sherlock opened John's jeans too, as fast as physically possible.
John pulled Sherlock's cock out of his pants, grasped it tightly, and began to rub, making Sherlock groan and stop kissing John's neck.
John took his chance to bury his face in the crook of Sherlock's neck as he kissed and bit into the skin, soothed it with his tongue, and increased the speed of his hand.
Letting out shallow breaths, Sherlock pushed John's jeans and pants way below, up to the beginning of his thighs, and was now returning the favour.
John gripped Sherlock's nape tight in his other hand as he continued to jerk him off. They moaned in unison, sounds filling the whole room. Sherlock's large hand, finally where John had wanted it to be... the feeling was heavenly.
John was so close his voice was getting dangerously high and loud. Sherlock moved his hand from John's arse to his mouth to muffle his moaning.
Before he could give out a warning, John was coming all over Sherlock's bare chest and abdomen. Some of it had even got on the chair.
He gasped out as he became rough while rubbing Sherlock's cock. John stretched out his fingers to massage his balls too.
Sherlock moved his hand from John's mouth to his waist again. He buried his face in John's chest as he writhed and was also about to come.
Come spilled out all over John's abdomen within no time. John continued to use his hand to ensure Sherlock was finished.
John placed his chin on Sherlock's shoulder and sighed as they continued to hold each other on Sherlock's armchair.
Their breathing had subsided. John reluctantly let go of Sherlock to get up from the chair and go to the bathroom.
Closing the bathroom door behind him, John looked around himself and took a deep breath to smell the nostalgic fragrance. Good old days. Things were never this complicated back then, were they? John placed his palms on the counter and leaned forward as he mentally kicked himself for not acting sooner.
He looked at himself in the mirror and closed his eyes in both frustration and relief. And shame.
He grabbed some flannels for them, wiped his abdomen and jeans clean with some water, and walked out to go back to Sherlock in the sitting room.
John tossed the flannel at Sherlock, who was cleaning his chest and other parts of his body meticulously.
John pulled up his pants and jeans and zipped them up properly. He picked up his shirt, put it on, and buttoned it in silence. Sherlock put his clothes back on again too.
They gazed at each other for a moment. John held out his hand in an offer. Sherlock took it as he got up from the chair. They walked over to the sofa and sank in. They lay down and arranged themselves, and now Sherlock was on top.
"We need to talk," John said, breaking the silence.
He was gripping Sherlock around his back tightly.
Sherlock sighed. "Then talk."
"You sold my chair." John's heart sank when he recalled that.
Sherlock touched their foreheads together. "Not in my dreams. I just got some help to move it upstairs. To your room."
"Why?"
Sherlock gave him a blank look - as if John just asked him a stupid question. "Couldn't bear to look at it after your wedding."
"Christ! I'm sorry." John pulled Sherlock close to kiss his forehead.
"John, I don't understand. Why now? Why did you marry? And are you going to talk about this with your wife?"
Always to the point. Just how John liked it, usually, but now everything was too complicated.
John sighed. "You were dead, at least to me. I grieved for you for two years. I never expected you to come back. I met Mary when I was at my lowest. When I decided to go out with her, her presence in my life used to make me feel... good, I think. Less dead than before.
"After a few months of moving in with her, I realised there was no reason for me not to settle down with her."
Sherlock's expression looked guarded now. John pressed a chaste kiss on his lips and ran his hand along his back. "If I'm being honest, what I felt for Mary, and still do, is not even a third of what I felt for you when I used to live with you. And what I feel for you now.
"But I was already about to propose to her when you came back. I never got back to properly proposing to her but she assumed we were engaged afterwards."
John brushed his other hand through Sherlock's hair to feel his curls. "I now understand why you had to fake your death. And I assure you I've even forgiven you. But I had no idea - not even the faintest one - that you felt the same way about me."
Sherlock looked at John in the eye in disbelief.
"Hey, I'm not the most brilliant detective in London!" John's tone was defensive.
"You were always going to be my best friend even after my marriage to her. And I was already engaged to her. What was I to do then, hm? I had no reason to call off the wedding. So, I didn't.
"As for why now, well... I don't know. Seeing you with someone else was too much."
Sherlock raised his brows at that. "Oh, you're the one to talk."
John caressed Sherlock's cheek with his left hand. "I can only imagine what you went through during this whole month. And even before, when you planned my whole wedding, made sure my wedding day went smoothly, and everything else.
"God, that speech you gave in front of everyone. Sherlock, those were the best things someone had ever said about me in my whole life." John pulled Sherlock close and kissed him deeply and tenderly for a few seconds, placing his fingers on Sherlock's nape.
He pulled away and held Sherlock's face was gently in his hands."Thank you. For everything," he added, earnestly. He meant everything - including the bonfire incident.
"Sorry for being harsh about that speech before. I had no right to say that. And sorry for acting like an entitled arsehole. I don't have a say over who you choose to date."
"I love you," Sherlock said matter-of-factly.
John swallowed and nodded. "Now I know. I love you too. Always have. It shouldn't have taken me this long."
Sherlock pressed a kiss on John's mouth for a long moment. They kept holding each other like this for some time.
"What about Mary?" Sherlock asked as they pulled apart.
"I'll come clean with her, I guess. We'll have to look for shared custody of the baby on the way. I'll talk to her tonight. Or in the morning, but not later than that. God, this is going to be hard."
Sherlock hummed. He laid his head on John's chest and sighed.
Something was still gnawing at John. "I used to think of myself as someone with a strong moral compass. Apparently not."
"You're still everything I've thought about you as, John. Bravest and kindest and wisest. Whatever you choose to do is going to be fine with me. Like I said, I'll always be there."
John looked down at Sherlock's gorgeous face and felt as if he was in heaven. He pressed a kiss in his hair and kept holding onto him tight. Sherlock was the raft in the ocean for him.
"Is it okay if I stay here for a while?"
"Obviously."
John smiled. "You know, I was expecting you to show up at the doorstep today. In the suburbs. When I saw it was Mrs Whitney instead, I was irritated as hell. That's when I realised that I wasn't quite okay with the choice that I'd made. I used to think about you all the time. Even dream about you. I was thinking of you during our bloody honeymoon."
"The night when you got married, that was when I used for the first time in five years."
John knew that was barely scratching the surface, and wasn't ready to go deep just yet. So he decided to pull Sherlock up, hold his face, and kiss him again for as long as he could that afternoon.
He had important, life-changing decisions to make. Those could wait for the time being.