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Chapter Text

Nine months. Rosie was nine months old and still didn’t sleep through the night. John loved his daughter with all his heart but was starting to go insane because of the lack of sleep. Every time he looked at his baby, with her blond curls and her blue eyes, he felt a huge wave of love and simultaneously a deep sadness that he was unable to make her keep a regular sleep schedule. He felt guilty for Rosie’s irregular sleep pattern. He was her only remaining parent and was always away, leaving her in someone else’s care. He, irrationally maybe, thought that Rosie kept him up at night just to see him. So, he soldiered on, kept a smile on his face and dealt with the tiredness as well as he could. He knew he was making a poor job at it. He often snapped at people, got grumpy. He remembered with shame the day he made a barista cry because she got his order wrong. It was just getting too much. 

The past six months had been a rollercoaster of emotions and processing all of it, even without sleep deprivation, would have been more than challenging for anybody. The list of mad and tragic events had just kept pilling on and John had stacked each of them on top of the other. It was not ideal as coping mechanism went but he didn’t know how to get through his days otherwise. He was certain he would instantly collapse if he took a minute to really let the feelings wash other him. His wife was dead, his relationship with his best friend was a mess, he had been kidnapped and threatened by several psychopaths… The list went on and on. He supposed he had chosen this life the day he had agreed to move in with Sherlock Holmes. 

John was staring into his cup of coffee and thinking about that day which had changed his entire life for better or worse. If anyone gave him a chance to go back to the start, to this morning at Bart’s morgue, he knew he would do it all over again. Meeting and getting to know Sherlock was the best thing that could have happen to him at the time. He had been broken, the shadow of an army doctor with a psychosomatic limp and no future to look for. Living and working with Sherlock had cured him, brought danger and excitement to his life. He acknowledged that this encounter had saved him. However, if he could time travel he would probably change a thing or two about what happened over the years of their acquaintance…

He didn’t have the time to continue this train of thought as he heard Rosie wake up in the baby monitor. He sighed, took one last sip of his now cold coffee and left the kitchen for the nursery. It was six o’clock and John had been awake since four thanks to Rosie. Each bone in his body was begging him to go lie down and get some sleep, but it wouldn’t be happening. When he got to her bed, Rosie was wide awake, ready to start her day. John picked her up and started getting her ready for the day. He had to be at work at nine and drop Rosie at daycare before that. He had plenty of time to dress her up and give her breakfast. It was lucky because he felt numb and would probably forget something if he didn’t have time to think about what he had to do. 

That was becoming quite problematic, he was so exhausted and regularly forgot what he had to do. So far, it had not been too bad : he had forgotten some items when he went grocery shopping or missed his stop on the tube,… things like that but nothing worrying. Nonetheless, he was beginning to notice the concerned looks of his colleagues at the clinic. He was a mess and looked like it. He tried to keep his composure, minding the way he dressed and trying to take care of his appearance. But, the dark circles under his eyes were a dead giveaway. 

By the time he reached the clinic, John was shaking with nervous energy. He saw two patients before the inevitable happened and he had to be sent back home. He was found sleeping on his desk by his eleven o’clock appointment and had to admit he wouldn’t be able to finish his shift. They asked him to take his vacation days and stay at home for the next two weeks. 

John felt defeated and a failure as a doctor as well as a father. He went to pick Rosie up from daycare and headed for Baker Street. He didn’t have any plan in mind but just knew he needed help. What kind of help he was expecting from Sherlock he didn’t know, but he wanted to see him anyway. Moreover, Mrs Hudson might be in and able to watch the baby for an hour or two so he could get some rest. It was one o’clock when he finally reached Baker Street. 

His steps felt heavy as he climbed the flight of stairs to 221B. With Rosie clinging to his hip and her changing bag balancing on his other shoulder, he opened the door and spotted Sherlock sitting at the desk by the window, writing in one of his black notebooks. 

“You got fired.”, Sherlock stated with just one look at him.

“Not fired. Asked to take a leave. Two weeks.” John sat down in his armchair with Rosie on his lap and a huge sigh. The bag fell by his side with a thud. 

“You fell asleep.”

“What gave me away ? Maybe the shitty way I look ?!” John asked with a sad laugh.

Sherlock rose from his chair and came to take the little girl from her father. He sat opposite John in his own armchair, bouncing a giggling Rosie on his lap.  “You need to sleep.”

“Ta, I know that.” John had begun collapsing in the armchair and felt his eyelids get heavier with every second. “Is Mrs Hudson home ? I hoped she would look after Rosie the time for me to take a quick nap.”

Sherlock shook his head. “She’s at her sister’s. She will be back in two days.”

“Bugger.” John tried to stir himself in order to get up. He would better go back to his house and pray for Rosie to nap so he could get some rest as well.

“You can leave Watson with me and go lie down in your old room.” The words stopped John on his track. 

“You wouldn’t mind ?” John was surprised by the offer. Sure, Sherlock was Rosie’s godfather and had already looked after her from time to time but he never seemed too keen on playing the nanny. Moreover, he was rarely available, always working on some case or experiment. 

“Of course not. I assure you Watson and I are perfectly capable of spending time together.” 

“Fine. If you are available, I won’t argue. I need to sleep if I want to function like a normal human being. Thanks.” John stood up, taking one last guilty look at his daughter. Once again, he was leaving her in someone else care. Nonetheless, exhaustion had taken his toll and he was not in the capacity of being a father right now. He had to sleep before he could be himself again. With a nod, he left Sherlock and Rosie in the living-room and went upstairs to his old bed. The room was still the same and he felt comfort as he took his shoes off and lied down. As soon as his head hit the pillow, his eyes closed and within minutes he was dead to the world. He barely registered noises coming from downstairs before he fell in a dreamless sleep. 

—————

When John’s eyes painfully opened a few hours later, he needed a few seconds to take in his surroundings. The light in the room was dim, indicating that the day was already drawing to a close. John turned around on the bed to take a look at the alarm clock on the bedside table. Seven thirty. 

He laid on his back, letting his brain come back online gradually. He was in Baker Street. He'd been sent home because he'd fallen asleep on the job. Pink rose to his cheeks with shame. Never in his life had he been so unprofessional. Regardless of how tired he had been, this probably made him the worst GP in the London area. One more thing to add to John Watson’s list of achievements, John bitterly thought. 

Sounds coming from the kitchen downstairs made John sat up with a start. Fuck, Rosie ! He had left his infant daughter for hours with Sherlock. There were no alarming smells or noises, only the regular sounds of someone preparing dinner. It helped John relax a little but he still stood up grabbed his shoes and ran downstairs. 

The scene which welcomed him left him gobsmacked. Rosie was in her chair, playing with a stuffed bee, while Sherlock was mixing her meal. The kitchen was spotless and a clean bottle was already waiting by the sink for later when she would ask for some milk before bed. John stopped on his track at the kitchen entrance and took a good look at them. Rosie was relaxed and seemed happy to wait for Sherlock, no fussing in sight. Sherlock was wearing one of his usual tailored suit, unruffled and as pristine as ever. He had his back to John  and was talking to Rosie, explaining to her each step necessary to the preparation of her meal. The little girl was listening and squeezing her little toy. It was as if this was just a normal day for them, a part of their everyday routine. John was utterly surprised by the domesticity of it all and felt reluctant to disturb the peaceful scene.  

He cleared his throat to let them know he was there. Rosie jumped and turned around, instantly reaching to him with a loud ‘Dada’. John patted her blond curls and moved toward Sherlock. 

“Sorry, I slept so late. Didn’t mean to throw her on you for so long.” John had stopped behind Sherlock and was balancing his weight on the kitchen table, trying to hide his embarrassment. Sherlock had agreed to look after Rosie but he probably had better things to do with his day.

“It’s all fine. Watson and I had a splendid time.” With that, Sherlock turned around with a bowl of freshly mixed vegetables in his hand. 

Was that homemade ??? John mouth opened in utter shock. There was no way Sherlock Holmes had just cooked for someone. Sherlock feigned to ignore John’s facial expression and walked to sit in front of Rosie chair. Without a comment, he started to feed the young girl. 

“Did you…. did you prepare that yourself ?” John had turned and still couldn’t believe what he was witnessing with his own eyes. Sherlock was displaying fathering skills unexpected from him. Of course, John knew that Sherlock was not the high-functioning sociopath he claimed to be. He cared about people in his own way and John knew that he had always done everything he could to look after him. However, Sherlock had never been one for domesticity. John couldn’t remember even one instance where he had actually cooked something (toasts didn’t count). 

“Despite what you think, I’m not completely inept. I can boil and blend broccoli. That’s hardly rocket science. Just sit down and stop staring.”

The tone was firm and John followed the order. He sat down but quickly felt uneasy. He stood up and started making tea. Tea was good, tea was comforting, tea would help him make sense of this surreal day. He prepared a fresh batch and poured himself a cup as well as Sherlock. 

As soon as the flavour of the black leaves hit his tastes buds, John felt more alert. In the meantime, Rosie had finished her dinner and Sherlock had settled her on her mat in the living-room. She was playing with her toys while John and Sherlock sat in their chairs sipping their cuppa. 

The day was coming to an end and it would soon be time to put Rosie to bed. John had better start to get ready to leave. He was playing with his empty cup when Sherlock’s voice startled him.

“Just sleep here. There’s no point going back to your house.” Sherlock’s statement made sense really. There was no point going back all the way to his house. Rosie had what she needed there and his bed was already unmade. Nonetheless, John was reluctant to accept the offer. He needed to bring back some normality to this hectic day. Going back to his town house was his normality now. He had to use his imposed leave from work to good use and try to bring back some balance and rhythm to his and Rosie’s lives. Beginning by spending a night away from home might not be the best idea, even if it was tempting. 

“Thanks. You have been so helpful today but I can’t impose anymore than that. Better for us to go back home before Rosie falls asleep on the floor.” John went to the kitchen, put the empty cups in the sink and started gathering all of Rosie’s stuff. 

“Don’t be tiresome. You need a real night of sleep. I can help.” Sherlock was still in his chair, his eyes following John’s movements. His face was unreadable. 

“Thanks again. But, no, we need to go home.”

“Please yourself but just know I wouldn’t mind you staying here.”

At these words, John felt warmth in his heart. For Sherlock it was almost an admission he wanted them to stay. Nevertheless, John stood his ground and picked Rosie up from the mat. There was nothing left to add so he just headed for the door, smiled to Sherlock and said his goodbyes.

—————

Later that night, alone in his bed and unable to find sleep, John bitterly thought that Sherlock had been right. He should have stayed in Baker Street. As if she was agreeing, Rosie started screaming. John was in for another restless night. 

Chapter Text

The first day of his holiday started like any other. John had barely slept, Rosie had woken three times and now they were both cranky. After breakfast, John decided not to put Rosie in daycare. He had an unexpected opportunity to spend some quality time with his daughter and he was not going to let it pass. To be honest, after 2 hours of playing with her, John was starting to get a little bored. Bored might not be the best word to describe it, he loved spending time with the little girl but he also craved human interactions, more precisely interactions with a certain detective. 

By lunchtime, John debated going back to Baker Street. Sherlock had been of tremendous help the day before, but it might be a bit much to come unannounced two days in a row. Sure, Sherlock had said he wouldn’t mind to have them there. Nonetheless, John still felt a little uncomfortable with the notion of not being able to take care of his daughter on his own. Millions of single parents managed, why couldn’t he ? His past traumas might be a part of the issue, but John just brushed them off. He didn’t want to think about his dead wife or all the mistakes he had made. Moving forward was the only way for him to continue functioning. 

Talking about moving, John needed to get out of his house. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but since Mary’s death the place didn’t feel like home. It was haunted with ghosts and didn’t help with John’s nervousness. He dressed Rosie with her coat and put her in her pushchair before heading to the nearest playground. The sharp autumn breeze felt good against his cheeks and woke John’s tired body up. He spent nearly an hour with Rosie on the swings and slides. By midday, they went back home for lunch. John had not idea what they would do with their afternoon though. He put Rosie down for her nap and grabbed his phone. He tried finding activities to do with a nine months old but nothing sounded really appealing to him. On a whim, he decided to text Sherlock.

        - Case for you to solve : what to do with a nine months old in London ?

He felt silly asking Sherlock for advice but the man knew the city like his back pocket. He might have a few ideas. The three little dots started moving on his screen and a very Sherlockian response came in. 

        - Do you need to hide a body ? Should I be concerned ? SH

John giggled. It was surely inappropriate but still one of the funniest thing he had heard lately.

        - Ha ! No crime to solve sorry ! I just need to find something more exciting to do than the local playground.

        - John, always one for excitement. The zoo ? SH

        - Not a bad idea, actually. 

        - Thanks. Is Rosie napping ? SH

        - Yes, she should be up soon. Are you working ?

        - Going through old cases. SH

        - Not running after criminals then. Do you want to come to the zoo ? We could meet there. At 3 ?

        - Sure, why not. SH

        - See you there then !

John released a sigh. Sherlock was brilliant. The zoo was the perfect idea. Rosie would love the animals and, with Sherlock there, John would have some company. The fact that the London zoo was close to Baker Street was just a fortunate coincidence. 

John was already planning the rest of the day. They could go to the zoo, then go back to Baker Street by walking through Regent’s Park. If Sherlock was up for it, they could order some food and have dinner together before he went back home with Rosie. It would be a very nice day indeed.  

With a spring in his step, John settled Rosie in her pushchair and headed to the closest tube station. Driving would have been easier with the baby, but John didn’t want to have to park the car at the zoo. Having the car meant taking it after the zoo, so no walk through the park, and he was looking froward to this part. He had always enjoyed Regent’s Park when he was a permanent resident of the neighbourhood. Sometimes, Sherlock and him went for long walks there, talking about cases or insane science experiments. These were really fond memories for John and he wanted to feel like that again : carefree and peaceful. That was the point of this mess of a work leave anyway. 

The tube was as packed as ever and John arrived slightly late at the zoo. Sherlock was already waiting at the gate, wrapped up in his coat, his blue scarf reaching his cheekbones. His gaze was glued to the screen of his phone, his fingers typing furiously. As soon as he heard the wheels of the pushchair approaching, he looked up and the shadow of a smile played across his lips. 

“You took the tube.” John didn’t need to ask how Sherlock knew. After years of friendship, the way Sherlock seemed to always know was not a surprise anymore. 

“Yeah, I didn’t want to take the car. Sorry, I forgot how much of a nightmare it was to ride the train with a pushchair. I really thought we could be there on time.”

“It’s fine. Should we get in ?”

John and Rosie followed Sherlock inside the zoo. John insisted to pay for the tickets and Sherlock reluctantly agreed with a bow of his head. As soon as they entered the zoo, they could hear Rosie babbling and see her small hands trying to reach the animals they passed on their way. The walk through the zoo took some of the pressure off John’s shoulders. It was satisfying to see his daughter enjoying the visit. Sharing it with Sherlock was just an added bonus for John. He enjoyed every piece of information Sherlock threw at him. Some were informative “Zebras stripes are unique like fingerprints”, some were sweet “To prevent themselves from floating away in the water, otters sleep holding hands” and others were just weird “Tiger urine is said to smell like popcorn”. All in all, John was having a really good time and he didn’t want for it to end at the gate of the zoo. As he had contemplated before, he suggested that they walked through Regent’s Park and accompany Sherlock back home. To John’s delight, not only did Sherlock agree but he  also suggested they stayed over for dinner. 

The evening went on as smoothly as the rest of the day. By eight, John was in his armchair, stuffed with curry and a little tipsy from the red wine they had shared at dinner. Sherlock had picked up his violin and was playing a sweet lullaby to Rosie who was sitting on the rug intensely listening to him. John had no idea what the name of the piece was but he felt as charmed as his daughter and actually started dozing off on his chair. He was awoken by a hand slightly shaking his shoulder. 

“John ? John ?” John tried to push the hand away to no avail. 

“You should go to bed.  You're going to hurt your shoulder and your back if you stay here.”

The voice made sense. John opened his eyes and saw Sherlock's face. They were only inches apart and John felt himself blush. He couldn't help it, every time Sherlock got a little too close he felt his cheekbones flush. It was ridiculous and a bit embarrassing. He was a grown man and a father now, he shouldn’t blush like a teenager. Speaking of his daughter, he had no idea where she was. Sherlock must have sensed the panic in his eyes, because he squeezed his shoulder before adding : “Rosie’s fine. She’s sleeping in the upstairs bedroom. You should go as well.”

John nodded before dragging his tired bones upstairs. As Sherlock had said, Rosie was peacefully sleeping in her small portable bed. She looked like a blond angel and John couldn’t believe she was the reason for his exhaustion when he saw her like that. He stroked her hair, and kissed her forehead. He got ready for bed and climbed under the covers with a satisfied sigh. His last thought was for Sherlock, for how grateful he was to have him in his life. 

—————

John was deeply asleep as he registered noises coming from the bottom of his bed.

It took him seconds to remember that he was in Baker Street and Rosie was in his room.  On autopilot, he began to pull the covers off his body when his sleep-deprived brain finally noticed that Sherlock was also in the room. He was wearing his blue silk dressing gown over an old t-shirt and pyjama bottoms. Sherlock was leaning over Rosie, whispering softly to her.  John stopped moving and tried to distinguish the words. At first he couldn’t make out any of it but as Sherlock was leaving, he heard “Sleep, my darling.”

This took John by surprise. He had never heard Sherlock use any endearments for Rosie, or for anyone for that matter. It was out of character and didn’t fit with what John thought he knew about the person he considered his best friend. Those two little words shifted something. John knew that Sherlock cared but it was unlike him to openly display affection. Technically, Sherlock had said it under the cover of the night, to a baby, while thinking that John was still sleeping. Still, he had said it.

John laid back in bed, Sherlock once more the point of focus of his thoughts. So much had changed over the years, it made sense for them to evolve as well. However, who could have predicted that Sherlock would become softer, more affectionate ? His behaviour toward Rosie was certainly a testimony to that. John felt guilty for not following the same path. The years had just made him grumpier, even more short-tempered that he used to be. He had let anger and frustration get the best of him repeatedly. The worst had certainly been absorbed by Sherlock, the man who had always been there for him, for his family. 

John never liked thinking about his and Sherlock’s relationship too much. There was so much to unpack. He called Sherlock his best friend but he knew he was much more than that. When he let his mind wander he could imagine himself growing old next to Sherlock. And, in the dark of the night, he had often wondered what it would be like to share more than a friendship with the man. Under the cover of darkness, in the privacy of his own mind, John had considered multiple times  pushing the boundaries between them, becoming what they could so easily be. Despite what he had always claimed, John felt attracted to Sherlock. He had been surprised at first. He had never felt desire for a man before. After some self denial, he had finally made peace with it. He was attracted to another man, the best he knew, and there was nothing to do about it. Sherlock had never expressed any interest in romantic relationship and it was fine. At least it had been fine so far. John had moved on when he married Mary, leaving all these unresolved feelings behind. However, since her death, the thoughts had a way to crawl back to the front of his consciousness.

He didn’t know if it was the lack of sleep or the fact that he was back in his old bed, but hearing Sherlock whisper sweet words to Rosie had stirred something up, and the walls he had carefully built were crumbling down. John felt his body tingling from the will of running downstairs and take Sherlock in his arms. It was definitely not good.

The next hours were spent turning and kicking the covers, while trying not to wake the baby up. By the time, the sun rose up, John felt like crap. He waited for Rosie to wake up before going to the first floor. Sherlock was in the kitchen, already up. Or maybe he just hadn’t slept at all.

Breakfast was uneventful, the three of them eating around the kitchen table, until Sherlock’s phone rang. By the sound of it, Lestrade had a case and Sherlock was agreeing to come. Once he had hanged up, Sherlock turned to John, raising a questioning eyebrow. John looked at Rosie and shook his head no. He had to do better than only one day with his daughter.

“Fine. Feel free to stay there if you want. The case is barely a five, I shouldn’t be long.” Sherlock looked a bit disappointed by John’s refusal but his tone remained neutral. He stood up and grabbed his Belfast hanging on the front door.

John felt an unexpected surge of love and did the only thing his body was begging him to do.

He stood up in a rush, joined Sherlock on the landing and kissed him on the lips. Sherlock recoiled slightly and his voice was slightly shaky when he talked.

“John… What are you doing ?”

John was on the verge of a panic attack. What had he done ? How could he explain ?

“I’m… I’m sorry. I just wanted to say thank you for… everything.” John couldn’t look at Sherlock. 

“You are confusing gratitude with attraction. Please don’t do that to me.” Sherlock’s tone was like ice in John’s veins. Of course, Sherlock was going to reject him. He had always known that. He had made a fool of himself. But, as they say, in for a penny… John squared his shoulders and looked Sherlock in the eyes. 

“I’m exhausted but not confused. I’m thankful and … I like you. Always have.”

“You like me ? What’s that supposed to mean ?” 

“I like you as more than a friend I guess.” John held his breath and tried to read Sherlock's expression, tried to decipher the feelings hidden behind the mask he so effectively put on. Sherlock was holding his coat and looking at John as if he had never seen him before. After years of knowing the man, John thought he also saw a flash of anger but he couldn't be sure. However, Sherlock quickly schooled his features and went back to a blank expression. 

“John, you have to stop. You haven’t had a full night sleep in weeks. You are confusing me with one of your former girlfriend, or worse your wife, just because I helped out with your daughter. You will regret this once you’re rested.”

John was struck by this statement. He didn’t understand how Sherlock could believe any of this to be true. The kiss may have been surprising but John was not out of his mind or blindsided by sleep deprivation.

“What ???” was the only word he managed before seeing Sherlock put on his coat and run down the stairs. He was left alone at the entrance to 221B with no clue how they got there. No, actually he knew that, he had been reckless and had let his stupid feelings ruin everything. 

Chapter Text

It had been two days since the all kiss debacle and John had barely slept 4 hours total. This time he couldn’t blame it on his daughter though. She was still waking up at uncanny hours of the night, but every and each time John was already up, musing over and over again on how fast things went south with Sherlock.

It had taken them a while to come back to being friends after the fall, Mary and Eurus. Never truly recovering from the fall had made John react really badly to all the events which unfolded after it. He had continuously blamed Sherlock, even when he had been the one being hurt. John still felt ashamed for how he handled the revelation that his wife had been the one who shot his best friend and basically killed him. He went back to her and even put the blame on Sherlock when she died. The grief he had to go through after Sherlock jump from Bart’s roof had tainted everything with anger and resentment. He had told Sherlock he forgave him, but truthfully he never really did. He had cared for Sherlock so much and had grieved him as a lost lover. He had regretted never telling him how much he meant to him and seeing him come back as if nothing had ever happened had been incredibly painful. Being unable to communicate his feelings had probably led to a way too fast engagement with Mary and some unnecessary pain on both parts. 

Now, with his reckless impulse to just kiss Sherlock, he had brought them several steps backwards on their way to mend their relationship. So, John couldn’t sleep and spent hours analysing and beating himself up over his lack of thinking.

He didn’t exactly regret kissing Sherlock. He had been secretly willing to do it for years. However, he regretted deeply the way he had gone about it. Of course Sherlock reacted with shock and anger. John had never explained, never proved him how much he wanted him.

Anyway, overthinking all of this was bringing him nowhere. It was only driving him insane. He needed to calm down and to be in a good enough shape to look after his daughter, and, right now, he was not.

With a sense of failure he resorted to ask for help to look after Rosie. Molly was unfortunately unavailable. After some hesitation, John decided to ask Mrs Hudson for help. The hesitation was not due to any worries about leaving Rosie with her. Mrs Hudson had always cared for Rosie and the two of them loved spending time together. The real problem was going back to Baker Street. The idea of facing Sherlock with absolutely no idea of what to say to him was terrifying. Crossing his fingers he wouldn’t come across the lanky detective, John drove to Baker Street after agreeing with Mrs Hudson she would watch Rosie for a few hours.

John’s heart was beating furiously when he knocked at 221. 

Mrs Hudson was the one who opened the door. She welcomed them cheerfully, rushing them to her flat and taking Rosie in her arms as soon as they reached her kitchen.

“Hello, Miss Rosie ! I’m so glad you’re here ! We’re going to have so much fun !”

Rosie was giggling and holding Mrs Hudson in a hug. John felt instant relief to see the two of them so happy. 

“Thank you so much Mrs Hudson. I really needed the help today.”

Mrs Hudson took a critical look at him and John braced himself for what she was about to say next.

“If you don’t mind me saying, dear. You look awful. Did you sleep at all last night ?”

Slightly embarrassed, John rubbed his neck. “Not really. Rosie keeps waking up at all hours of the night and I have a lot on my mind. Sleep is eluding me. ”

“Surely looks like it. You’re a doctor, you know you can’t go on like that much longer.”

“I know, I know. Anyway, thanks again. I’m going back home to try to get some rest and should be back in about three hours, if that’s okay.”

“Of course, take as long as you need. But you should just sleep here. You look too tired to drive all the way back there. Exhaustion and driving don’t go great together. Just go upstairs.”

John had feared she would suggest something like that. He was not ready to see Sherlock. Besides, just going to his place to ask for a bed to crash on was not the first conversation he wanted to have with him. They had so much to discuss and John had to be alert for that. Nonetheless, not having to waste time in traffic and gain some sleep time was really appealing.

“Is Sherlock in ?” He had to know before he decided anything.

“No, gone chasing after some criminal. But you know he wouldn’t mind.”

“Yeah, but I don’t know…” John was still hesitating.

“Don’t be ridiculous, John Watson. You need to sleep now. Just go upstairs and relax.” Her tone didn’t leave room for debate. So, taking it as the order it was, John finally agreed and went upstairs.

He avoided the main entrance to 221B and headed straight to his room. Even though Sherlock was not there, he didn’t want to see the flat. It might take him on an other spiral if he saw the spot where his lips came into contact with Sherlock’s for the first (and probably last) time.

Once he had taken his jacket, trousers, shirt and socks off, John laid down under the covers of the bed. He tried to no avail to calm down by listening to the noises coming from 221A. Sleep was still out of his reach. He was twisting in his bed when he heard the main entrance to the building open and recognised Sherlock’s footsteps on the stairs. Fear and excitement went through his body. 

Sherlock had to know Rosie was there and might be looking for him. Seeing no sign of him in the flat he must have deduced by now that he was in the upstairs bedroom.

John waited expectantly for Sherlock to come to him but after a few minutes he had to accept that Sherlock had no intention to come upstairs. He laid back on the bed and tried to hear Sherlock. He barely could guess what he was doing. However, weirdly enough, the fact of knowing Sherlock this close to him seemed to calm John down.

His heart started to beat slower and his eyelids became heavy. Without warning, he was taken into Morpheus’ arms and sleeping soundly.

———-

As was starting to become a habit, John woke up in the evening in 221B. He redressed himself and went down to 221A. To his surprise, he was welcomed by a closed door. He called Mrs Hudson who informed him she had had to go see her sister and that Rosie was with Sherlock. John thanked her for her help that afternoon before hanging up. He put his phone back in his pocket and took a look at the stairs. This was it, this time he had no way of avoiding a confrontation with Sherlock. With a sigh, John climbed the stairs.

When he reached the landing, he felt the need to knock before carefully opening the door. He couldn’t remember the last time he had knocked before entering the flat, but he didn’t know if him just barging in would be that welcome anymore. He wanted to give Sherlock a warning before entering, which was pointless because Sherlock had to know he was there. John gritted his teeth, they hadn’t even exchanged a word yet and he was already making things awkward.

Sherlock and Rosie were sitting face to face on the rug, playing with cubes. Rosie was trying to reach for Sherlock’s construction. Sherlock was trying to keep her from destroying it by putting cubes in her hand. Both completely ignored John, who felt like an intruder. He stayed silent and just sat down on the rug between them.

No words were said and Sherlock was clearly avoiding looking at John. Rosie had acknowledged his presence by pushing some cubes his way. John was growing more and more uncomfortable and was scraping his head for something to break the silence. In the end, Sherlock was the first one to speak.

“Slept well ?”

“Yes, thank you and sorry for invading your space again.” 

Sherlock’s eyes turned slightly to take a quick glance at John.

“You know you’re always welcome here.” 

John nodded and took a sharp breath before opening his mouth again. He didn’t have time to utter a word though.

“Don’t. We don’t need to talk about it. Everything is fine.” 

John took a hard look at Sherlock. He looked tensed and closed up.John wanted to reach and rub his shoulder to take some of the tension out. This was probably not the right move. John squared his shoulder for what was surely going to be an unpleasant, but necessary, conversation.

“You’re wrong.”

Hearing the word ‘wrong' made Sherlock’s head perch up a little. Now that he had his attention, John continued.

“You’re wrong, we do need to talk. And you were wrong that day. You misunderstood and your deduction was incorrect.”

This time, Sherlock turned completely toward him.

“I’m never wrong.”

John laughed at this. “Of course you are ! And this time you are completely and utterly wrong ! I didn’t kiss you because I didn't have anyone better to kiss. I kissed you because I wanted to kiss you! Just you.” 

Sherlock stood up and turned his back to John, looking out the window.

“I don’t understand…” There was sadness in Sherlock’s voice.

John picked up Rosie from the floor and put her in her chair before going to Sherlock. He didn’t dare get too close but stopped a few feet from him.

“I’m sorry, I know I must be confusing. Sometimes I don’t even know what I’m doing myself. But I need you to understand that I wanted that, I want that. I want to be with you if you would have me.”

Sherlock turned around and when he came face to face with John his face was distorted by fury.

“You want me NOW ! Now that I’m the only one around. You have never chosen ME ! You paraded around with insipid girlfriends before getting MARRIED to a woman ! You insisted times and times again on proving that John Watson is not gay ! And now you want me to believe that you want to be with me ?? That you have feelings for me ??? Based on previous evidence this doesn’t make sense !”

John was blown away by the force of Sherlock’s anger.  To be fair, he fully deserved it, but he'd never thought Sherlock had been so hurt. Guilt drove him to avoid Sherlock's burning gaze. Sobbing sounds coming from the living room made him look at Rosie. She had been scared by the outburst and was now crying in her little chair. Sherlock deflated at the sound. He never liked hearing Rosie cry. He ran to the little girl and kneeled to get eye level with her.

“I’m so sorry Watson. Everything is all right. I won’t scream anymore, I’m sorry.” He was whispering reassuring words at the little girl while John was still rooted on the same spot, unable to move or think about anything else than what Sherlock had just said to him.

He wanted to cry as well. He had thought before that he had ruined their relationship but now he didn’t know if any of it was salvable. There was no John Watson without Sherlock Holmes and he had to do something about the mess he had put himself in. Sherlock had never said he didn’t want him and he had to hold to this fact. John was a soldier and he was not going to back down from a battle, the battle for Sherlock’s Holmes heart. He had to stop apologising and just prove to Sherlock that he was all in, that there was no more hesitation, that he was finally being honest with himself and his feelings. If Sherlock was not interested after that, he would back down. However, he had to make sure that Sherlock really didn’t want that, that it was not just a refusal based on John’s previous questionable behaviour. 

John went to Sherlock and took him by the arm to make him stand up. They were both standing next to the fireplace, face to face. Sherlock still looked angry and hurt but his breathing had slow down. John kept his hand on his arm and said with resolve : “I know I’ve messed up in the past. But you’re too important for me to just let go. I’ll prove that this is not a flight of fancy but something that has always been in my heart. I was too afraid before but I want to be brave now. I’m going to do my best to deserve you.”

He was just met by a blank stare. Sherlock had built back his walls and retreated in his mind. He was not rejecting John though, so everything might not be lost yet. John tried to smile and let go of Sherlock’s arm.

Hesitantly, he asked : “If that’s okay with you, I would like for us to sleep here tonight. I can’t sleep when I’m not there and Rosie seems to sleep better there as well.”

There was a pause, John waiting with concern for Sherlock to answer.

“Fine” With one word, Sherlock took some of his worries away.

“Fine.” John echoed, relieved that he was still welcome at 221B, even though his place there was fragile. He could work from there. 

Chapter Text

The evening had been excruciating. John was walking on egg shells, fearful of making any wrong move. Sherlock was mostly feigning to ignore him, only speaking when necessary. They both managed to go through Rosie’s night routine, dancing around each other but never colliding. Sherlock insisted on putting her to bed. With a swelling heart, John heard him read a night-time story to his daughter before leaving her with one more “Sleep, my darling.”

He didn’t comment on it though. He didn’t want to push his luck and needed a real plan before babbling something unprepared. At the end of the day, they didn’t discuss about their relationship any further, only exchanging short goodbyes and rushing to their own bed. 

Once in his bed, John reflected on the day’s events. He had been clumsy in his attempt to get to Sherlock. He had unleashed so much buried anger. Maybe, they needed to go through it before they could become more. However, John was still unsure of Sherlock’s true desires. Did he want that ? Did he feel something for John ? Would he like a more carnal relationship ?

John had gone about all that all wrong. He should have talked to the man first. He should have put his heart on the table and let Sherlock decide what he wanted to do. Feeling sleep get to him, John wondered if it was too late, if they’d been through too much to get there.

When he woke up, John felt more rested than he had in ages. With a slight panic, he realised that Rosie had not woken up once during the night. He rushed to her bed but found it empty. He was in full panic mode. Without taking the time to put anything over the t-shirt and boxers he slept in, John ran downstairs. He released a huge sigh of relief when he saw Rosie playing with what seems to be cases files over the coffee table. Sherlock was fully dressed, in his tight tailored black suite over his burgundy shirt. He was going through the files, sometimes pointing out something to Rosie. 

“Don’t you think she’s a bit young to solve gruesome murders ?” John asked in an amused voice. His blood was still pumping loud in his veins from earlier but he was quickly calming down. 

“She’s too young to understand. And I don’t let her play with the pictures anyway. She’s far more receptive than you think. She will soon be a perfect assistant. Won’t you Watson ?” Sherlock ruffled Rosie’s golden locks and the little girl greeted him with a “Dada !”

The small syllable made Sherlock stiffen on the sofa. “Not your ‘Dada’, but thank you, little one.”

“You surely are a better father than I am. When did she wake up ?” John sat on the sofa next to Sherlock, mindful to keep some distance between them. 

Sherlock seemed surprised by John’s comment but didn’t elaborate further. “She woke up around six. But nothing during the night, this seems to be an improvement.”

“You’re doing wonders with her. She seems to be relaxed enough to sleep through the night when we are here. So am I to be honest. It had been ages since I’ve slept that long.”

“Good, that’s good.” Silence fell in the room. It was still tensed but at least they were being polite. Beside, Sherlock had not kicked them out yet.

John went to the kitchen to prepare some breakfast. He made toast and tea and brought a cup to Sherlock. He also deposited a plate with two toasts next to the detective. John sat at the kitchen table and watched with satisfaction Sherlock take the tea and munch on some of the toast. When they were done, he cleaned the dishes and went to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

As he stood under the hot shower spray he reflected on how to go about the day, and on how to convince Sherlock to spend some alone time with him. Once clean and dressed, he felt more like himself. He stepped in the living-room, ready to ask Sherlock to share a lunch with him.

Sherlock was not sitting anymore and was furiously texting on his phone. This could only mean one thing : case. 

“Ah, John, I’m sorry I have to go. Double murder in Notting Hill. Lestrade is sending a car.” 

John’s heart dropped to his shoes. Sherlock was leaving for a crime scene and he was not invited along. 

“Do you want me to come ?” he dared to ask, but he was quickly dismissed. 

“No. It should be pretty straightforward. I’ll text you later.” Sherlock was putting his coat on and reaching for the door.

“Try not to get yourself killed.” 

With a small smile, Sherlock said “Not promising anything” before leaving the flat. 

John felt useless. Sherlock didn’t even want him on cases anymore. What was he supposed to do now ? As if she had heard his distress, Mrs Hudson characteristic “Whoo ooh” resonated in the stairs. She entered the flat with a plate of home-made biscuits in her hands. 

“Hi, John ! Is his majesty gone ?” She was already in the kitchen and filling the kettle with water.

“Yes, it’s just Rosie and I. He had to go on a case. Double homicide”

“Oh, he must thrilled ! And how are you dear ?” Mrs Hudson gestured for him to come sit at the kitchen table. John took Rosie in his arms and sat down on the chair opposite to the landlady. 

“Had a good night sleep, so that’s good.”

“Good on you. You should just get rid of this house of yours and move back here.” Direct as always, Mrs Hudson didn’t even hesitate to go for it. 

John laughed sadly. “I don’t think Sherlock would like that very much.”

Mrs Hudson patted his forearm as if he were a stubborn child. “Nonsense. He’s miserable when you’re not there. He would be over the moon to have Rosie and you living with him. You know he loves her.”

“Yes, I know. He’s actually a better parent than I’m. That’s not Rosie I’m worried about. I don’t know if he’s really fond of me these days.”

“You know he loves you.” Hearing the words coming out of Mrs Hudson’s mouth took John’s breath away. 

“I don’t think so… I’ve made a mess of everything.”

Mrs Hudson clenched her jaw. “John Watson, what have you done ?”

John was overcome by all the feelings he had bottled up and started crying. Between sobs, he explained the situation to Mrs Hudson. Normally he wouldn’t share that much, with her or anyone, but it had become too much and he needed someone to direct him on the right path. 

Mr Hudson had taken Rosie on her lap and was listening carefully, without interrupting. When he was done she finally cleared her throat. 

“Well. There’s only one thing to do now.“ John looked up at her expectantly. “You have to woo Sherlock Holmes.”

She was right. He had to seduce Sherlock, and he’d better put some effort in it if he wanted to be taken seriously. Mrs Hudson agreed to look after Rosie for the day and John started planning the best and more thoughtful date of his life. 

—————

Sherlock had texted that the case was more complex than previously predicated, and that he shouldn’t be back home before late at night. It left plenty of time for John to prepare.

He didn’t know if a big romantic gesture would be well received but he had to do something spectacular to make Sherlock understand, that even when he had denied it to other, and himself, he had always loved him. It had just taken him a really long time to admit it. Time had always been their main issue. Their timings were awful and had always worked against them. The fall and Sherlock’s return were a testimony to that. They didn’t have more time to waste and John finally felt that the window of opportunity was open. 

He spent most of the matinee musing and throwing ideas on paper. Inviting Sherlock to a nice restaurant was not personal, preparing a candlelit meal wasn't enough… Anything he'd done in any of his previous relationships didn't seem meaningful. He needed more. 

By midday, John had a revelation and knew exactly what he had to do. He had to make Sherlock see that his feelings were not new, that they had always been there. He would take him through time. 

John spent the afternoon gathering everything he needed and setting everything up. He stopped by Mrs Hudson’s flat to explain what he was doing and to ask her if she could keep Rosie for the night. Judging by the tears in her eyes, Mrs Hudson appreciated his idea and agreed readily to keep Rosie until morning. 

Once the matter was settled, John sat down at the desk by the window and picked up the white cards he'd bought. He began to write carefully. Before long, seventeen cards were filled with his handwriting :

29 ^th January 2010 : with just one look at you I knew you were going to change my life. Agreed to move in without hesitation. 

31 ^st January 2010 : killed a man for you. No hesitation there either. Would kill for you again.

23 ^rd March 2010 : Should have said we were friends. I still regret not hitting this Sebastian bloke.

1 ^st April 2010 : the Pool. I would have died for you.

10^th  March 2011 : Irene Adler. Just the name makes my blood boil. I was too stubborn to recognise I was jealous.

20^th   November 2011 : you jumped and a part of me died. I grieved you and begged for the universe to bring you back to me. That’s when I realised my feelings for you were deeper than friendship.

29 ^th January 2013 : went to your grave. I had spent months mourning you and carrying my love for you like a burden. I told you I loved you and goodbye.

12 ^th October 2013 : the universe answered my prayers. Again too stubborn to just run to you. I wanted to though. The anger kept me from kissing you. I punched you instead.

12 ^th May 2014 : my stag night. I almost kissed you that night. I don’t know if I could have stopped myself if we hadn’t been interrupted by that client.

18 ^th May 2014 : I should have come after you when you left the wedding. I should have known better, I’m sorry.

13 ^th June 2014 : Mary shot you. I could have lost you once more. I didn’t know what to do. I stayed with you but not long enough. I shouldn’t have gone back to her. To be honest, my unborn child was the only reason I didn’t remain by your side.

25 ^th December 2014 : you killed to protect me and I didn’t protect you. I was trapped and didn’t know how to get out.

5 ^th January 2015 : I should have said I loved you on that tarmac, I wanted too. I’ve been too much of a coward once again.

11 ^th February 2015 : Rosie came in our life. I wanted to share that with you. I’m glad you were there for her first breath.

April to June 2015 : I blamed you for everything, from Mary’s death to the chaos that followed. It was unfair. I think I felt guilty for loving you more than her.

2 ^nd July 2015 : Hearing you say ‘I love you’ to Molly broke my heart. I know you had to but a part of me believed you.

Today : I don’t want to be a coward anymore :  I love you.

John looked at the 17 cards. It seemed like a fair recollection of the most important events. Obviously, there were hundreds more occurrences that had led John Watson to fall in love with Sherlock Holmes. But this would have to do. If things went right, he would have the opportunity to tell Sherlock about them later. John carefully put the 17 cards on the 17 steps leading to 221B. Sherlock wouldn’t be able to miss them when he got home. 

To calm his nerves, John started to prepare dinner. He wanted to cook for Sherlock and, hopefully, share a nice meal with him. If Sherlock responded positively this might become their first date. 

John chopped vegetables and made some fried rice. He also roasted a chicken with lemon. For starters, he assembled a simple green salad with some beets and radish and a lemony dressing to compliment the chicken. Knowing how Sherlock loved sweets, John also prepared chocolate fondants. This decadent dessert would suit the detective's sweet tooth.

When the evening came, everything was ready. Sherlock hadn't yet sent a text announcing his return, so John took the time to shower and change into fresh clothes. He felt as ready as he could be. 

Around nine o'clock, John was sitting on the sofa when he received a text from Sherlock. He was only a few minutes away. John got up and began pacing the living room.

When the front door opened, John held his breath. 

It took Sherlock exactly six minutes to arrive at the entrance to 221B with all seventeen cards in hand. John had stopped pacing and was standing in the middle of the room. He looked at Sherlock and noticed that tears were silently rolling down his cheeks. When Sherlock saw him, he dropped the cards on the floor, took three steps towards him and took his face in his hands. 

John looked up at him, hopeful. He said nothing, waiting for Sherlock.

Sherlock murmured a soft "John" and placed his lips gently on John's. 

John's arms went instantly around Sherlock's waist. He wasn't about to let go.

Chapter Text

They stayed in the middle of the living room kissing for what felt like forever. Time had stopped and the only thing still anchoring John to reality was Sherlock’s body against his. He got lost in the softness of his lips, the firmness of his body and the sounds he was making. It was perfect. If lightening struck them right now, John wouldn’t have minded dying where he was.

Eventually the kiss had to come to an end. Both men remained close, not letting the other one go. This new connection seemed so fragile and precious. When John finally opened his eyes, Sherlock was smiling at him and stroking his cheek softly.

“John…” This seemed to be the only word left in Sherlock’s repertoire. But John could read so much more in his ever changing eye colour. Right now, they were blue with a touch of gold, and full of love and hope. This was it, the perfect moment to finally say the words out loud.

“I love you.” John felt relieved to finally say them. He couldn’t remember why he had been so scared before. This was right, this was what it had always been meant to be.

“I never dared to think this might be possible. But you, John Watson, never fail to amaze me.”

There was still so much to discuss but they had time now. If Sherlock wanted it, they might even have the rest of their lives.  So John took Sherlock's hand in his and led him slowly toward the table he'd prepared for them.

“Home made dinner ? Are you trying to seduce me ?” Hearing Sherlock actually flirt was so new to John that he felt himself blush.

“I wanted to make something nice for you, for us.”  John beckoned Sherlock to sit down and busied himself bringing out the dishes and arranging them on the table. 

“Everything smells very nice. Thank you.” Sherlock had gone for the serving spoons and was putting some salad, rice and chicken in each plate. 

They started eating and Sherlock decided to show his appreciation by making exaggerated delighted noises. Seeing this goofier side of Sherlock made John laugh and it helped release the tension still left in his body after the stress of the day.  He had been hopeful but, to be fair, he had fully expected another nasty argument. This conclusion was more than he had hoped for. He wanted to talk with Sherlock about their relationship but he didn’t want to break their happy bubble. He kept his mouth shut and enjoyed this moment. Once their plates were clean, John made tea to go with their dessert. Sherlock’s eyes lit up when he spotted the chocolate fondants. John had to push his hand away to prevent the cakes from disappearing instantly.

“Go sit on the sofa. I’ll get the cake.” Sherlock obeyed and went into the living room. Soon, John was back at his side, both sitting closely on the sofa and the tray with the tea cups and dessert on the coffee table. John handed Sherlock his plate, placed a hand on his knee and said “Thank you.”

Sherlock put his free hand over John’s. “What for ? I should be the one thanking you for what you did.”

John shook his heads and squeezed Sherlock’s fingers tighter. “I’m so grateful you found it in your heart to forgive me. Thank you for giving this a chance.” John was staring in Sherlock’s eyes, the dessert forgotten on his knee. Sherlock looked thoughtful. He put his plate back on the coffee table before picking John’s up and putting it away as well.

They were now sitting face to face, both hands intertwined. 

“John. I’m not very good with feelings. And talking about them is difficult for me. I’m going to do my best…” Sherlock paused and took a deep breath before continuing. “I’ve always been inexplicably drawn to you. I’ve never had much friends and it was all new to me. But you became my friend, my best friend. At first I thought it was all it was. Romantic relationships had never been a part of my life. They always looked… tiresome. So, that’s why it took me an embarrassing long time to understand what I really felt for you. It hit me like a ton of brick during the time I was away… Without you, I couldn’t function properly. You had become more than a friend, more than a work partner… you had become my heart. When I came back it was too late. And after that, I had accepted that you would never want me. And today… you showed me, you told me… And it still seems improbable but I want to believe.For once, I want to let my heart guide me.” 

It was a very long statement for Sherlock. John was stunned by how much he had expressed and said out loud. But he wasn't prepared for what was to come.

“I love you John Watson.” 

John's ears seemed to ring with that word. He wanted to cry, to laugh, to scream... How could he be so lucky? How could he deserve to be loved by such an extraordinary man? However, now was not the time for self-doubt. Sherlock had decided he was worthy of his heart, and he was going to cherish it.

John kissed Sherlock passionately. There was no more hesitation or delicacy. It was a clash of lips, teeth and tongues. Soon, John had relocated on Sherlock’s lap, his hands frantically going up and down against Sherlock’s chest. A loud whimper from Sherlock stopped John on his track.

“Sorry, got carried away… couldn’t help myself after what you said. Is it too much? Are you okay?”

Sherlock was breathless. “I’m fine. It was good, very good but… I don’t know where to go from here.” 

John felt like slapping himself. Sherlock had just confessed he'd never been in a relationship, and he was jumping on him like a horny teenager. He tried to reassure Sherlock.

"We don't have to go anywhere. This is all new to me too. You're the first man I've ever wanted to kiss. We'll work it out as we go along."

Sherlock seemed to relax a little. John got off his lap and sat down next to him.

"Dessert? John held out the plates they'd abandoned on the coffee table. Sherlock gratefully accepted his and they sat side by side. By the time the plates and cups were empty, John felt happy, relaxed and full. He would gladly have spent the next few hours  just like that but the detective had a better idea. “Do you want to sleep with me tonight ?”  Sherlock's voice was a little nervous. John accepted eagerly.

————

They got prepared for bed, each taking turn in the bathroom. Sherlock was already in his bed when John entered his bedroom. John was taken by the importance of this moment. It was the final step to shift their relationship entirely.  He searched his soul for the slightest doubt, but found none. Yes, Sherlock was a man, but his body was throbbing with the desire to touch him. He didn’t know if he was gay but Sherlock was definitely what his mind and body longed for. He didn’t waste time overthinking and joined him under the cover. Sherlock had only spoken about sleeping anyway so no need to put the cart before the horse.

They laid down and turned off the light. John could feel Sherlock’s body close to him. Being in bed made it much more intimate than their previous encounter on the sofa. John didn’t know what Sherlock wanted and didn’t dare to ask for more. He was going to let him set the pace.

The deep baritone voice broke the silence of the darkness. “Can I touch you ?”

The demand was so genuine, it broke John’s heart. “Of course. I’m all yours.”

Sherlock came closer and let his hands explore John’s body. He soon got frustrated of being held back by fabric and divested John of his t-shirt and boxers. John let him explore and tried to remove Sherlock's pyjamas. He didn't quite succeed and gave up completely the moment Sherlock bent down and put his head at the level of his already hard cock. Feeling Sherlock’s hot breath against it made John want to push his head down. To restrain himself, he grabbed the pillow under his head with both hands. Seconds passed and Sherlock was still not moving.

With a shaky breath, John said his name to get him out of his thoughts. Sherlock seemed to come back from his mind. “Sorry, I had to store this in my mind palace. You have a magnificent penis.”

The word ‘penis’ made John want to giggle. Of course, Sherlock bedroom talk would be more scientific than dirty. He tried to keep his tone neutral, not wanting to offend his lover.

“Thank you love. But could you maybe wait a little bit before classifying everything ? I want you to be here with me now.”

“Oh, sure ! Let’s carry on.” John would have really wanted to laugh at that but was stopped immediately by the feeling of Sherlock lips around his cock. Sherlock didn’t tease at all and had taken him in his mouth without warning. A younger John Watson would have come on the spot. Luckily for him he was older and managed to hold it back. He started swearing profusely though. As soon as John had stopped swearing and was managing to breath correctly, Sherlock moved to another part of his body. His wet tongue lapped each of his ball before continuing its journey downwards.

For an inexperienced lover Sherlock surely didn’t shy from another person body. He now had his tongue against John’s hole, circling it and slowly pushing against it. John was a mess. Some of his former girlfriends had rimmed him before but none had seemed to enjoy it as much as Sherlock. He was lapping and sucking while making delighted sounds. John was about to explode and he hadn’t even seen Sherlock naked yet. This wouldn’t do.

He took his hands off the pillow and put it on Sherlock’s head, he pulled slightly on his dark curl to bring him back on top of him. Understanding the silent demand, Sherlock crawled back on top of John and kissed him on the lips.

"Every part of you is delicious.” Sherlock licked his lips and John had to close his eyes against this exciting and obscene vision. He had to get his focus back on Sherlock.

“Fuck ! I need to see you ! Let me touch you please!” John was begging and he didn’t care. His hands were under Sherlock pyjama and trying to pull it off. Sherlock finally decided to help and took his clothes off. At last, they were both naked, skin against skin. 

For the first time, John felt a hard cock against his thigh. It really felt good to have the solid proof of Sherlock’s arousal and to know he was as affected as him. John slid one hand between their bodies and took Sherlock in his hand. The detective gasped and raised himself on his elbows to look at what John was doing. A low rumble came from his chest and John associated it to a giant cat purring. It felt so good to tear those sounds from the normally so composed detective. Wanting to hear more, John made Sherlock scoot a little so their cocks aligned and took the both of them in his hand. They moaned in concert when he slowly started to stroke the two hard cocks together. Sherlock raised his head and kissed John. The kiss was sensual and desperate. They were both close and John needed to feel Sherlock let go before he did. He sped his strokes and sucked Sherlock’s tongue in his mouth. With one last long moan, Sherlock cock spurted between their bodies. Feeling the warm come cover his hand and belly sent John over the edge as well. 

Sherlock’s elbows gave up and he landed fully on John’s body. He was crushed by 1,83 m of spent detective. He gently moved a reluctant Sherlock on his side and reached for his t-shirt in order to clean them both. Soon, Sherlock was snoring against John’s neck.

John put a kiss on his curls, closed his eyes and whispered “Sleep my darling” before falling asleep, comfortable and surrounded by the love of his life.

Chapter Text

Things didn’t go exactly smoothly after their first night together. Love is not a cure to all your problems and they still had issues to address. They had trust to rebuilt, they had to define the contours of their new relationship and learn how to form a new family. It was not easy but their deep bound and mutual will to stay together helped them get through even the most heated arguments.

The first one had been about their living arrangements. Sherlock wanted John and Rosie to move to Baker Street right away. He even asked it on the first morning they woke up in the same bed. John was more hesitant on his hand. He knew it was what he wanted but needed more time to be sure it would be the best for his daughter and their relationship. He also needed time to figure out how to go about it with Rosie. She was still really small and would adapt easily but he had not really thought about how having a kid would fit in Sherlock’s life. So John asked for more time to discuss all this. Sherlock didn't take it very well at first. He felt rejected and they took a few steps backwards. Nevertheless, they finally decided to take the time to think things through.

Throughout the process, John had to reassure Sherlock on his feelings. A declaration of love and one night together were not enough to settle the turmoil which had been Sherlock’s heart over the years. John did his best and tried to be more open and demonstrative. It was sometimes gauche but Sherlock seemed to appreciate it.

The pic for the detective had been the day John had acknowledged they were a couple in front of the whole Yard. They were on a case and a witness was clearly flirting with Sherlock. Lestrade looked amused but John was fuming. He wanted to strangle the lady who was hitting on his partner. John and Sherlock had only been together for a couple of weeks at this point and hadn’t made a big announcement. Mrs Hudson obviously knew, as she had walked on them kissing. She had been more than supportive. Over enthusiastic might be the word. They were not hiding from the rest of the world, just enjoying the privacy of their happy bubble. They hadn’t even discussed how they wanted to tell to people. Jealousy made just John spill it out in front of Lestrade and anyone who was present at the crime scene.

After watching the woman bat her eyelashes at Sherlock and openly flirt with him, John lost it when she started touching his arm. He took Sherlock by the hand and pulled him away from the witness. The way he took his hand and the angry grumbled “I think we’re done” surely didn’t go unnoticed. John was too angry to concern himself with the surprised looks of the bystanders and dragged Sherlock out of the room. He stopped when he reached an empty corridor and stood, with a furious look in his eyes, in front of Sherlock.

“John ?” Sherlock looked unsure on what was happening.

“You don’t let people flirt with you ! That’s not on !” John spit out through gritted teeth.

“That woman ? She’s just a witness and I need informations. A man has been murdered, I don’t care about flirting.” Sherlock was brushing it away but it only seemed to make John angrier.

“ I do care ! In case you’re forgetting you’re supposed to be with me !”

Sherlock became thoughtful “Ah, I see. Jealousy.”

“And how would you feel if someone flirted with me ?” 

“It would be… unpleasant.” 

John nodded and was taken aback when Sherlock dragged him back to the witness.

“Sorry about earlier but I have a jealous partner. Please avoid touching me.” 

If John had been less embarrassed by Sherlock’s declaration he would have laughed at the expressions on everyone’s faces. The woman was dumbfounded, Lestrade was amused and the rest of the officers were just in shock. There was nothing to add really, they were a couple and they were going to be open about it, and in Sherlock’s case brutally honest.

That night, after the case had been solved, John stayed at Baker Street and let his possessiveness express itself in bed. They made love and for the first time John entered Sherlock body. Being inside him, making love to him was beautiful and almost overwhelming. From that point on John knew he wouldn’t be able to spend one night without Sherlock’s arms around him and agreed to move back to Baker Street. 

Two months into their relationship, John, Rosie and Sherlock were all living at 221B. John’s former bedroom had been turned into a nursery. The little girl seemed to settle just fine and to John’s amazement slept through the night almost right away. When he expressed his surprise to Sherlock, he had a rather accurate explanation. 

“You are more relaxed and so she is as well. Moreover, we have a regular night routine and it helps small children keep a rhythm.” 

Sherlock was right, John was happier and calmer than he had been in years. Moreover, Sherlock was incredibly helpful with the baby and they had quickly established a routine at night. They managed to put the little girl most nights of the week. They sometimes had to be away on a case but they made a point of showing up as often as possible. They were a family and no one could deny it. Rosie would grow up in a loving environment no matter what happened. 

One night, as he was watching Rosie and Sherlock playing together, John was crushed by the idea of someone trying to separate them if anything were to happen to him. Rosie was Sherlock’s daughter as much as she was his, and he would have to do something about that. Maybe it was time to make everything official in front of the law.

————

Late that night, Rosie was in her bed and John and Sherlock were sharing a Chinese take away. They were talking about the toddler and the progress she had made, notably with speech, when a thought occurred to John.

“How do you want Rosie to call you ?”

Sherlock looked surprised “What do you mean ?”

“I mean …. ‘Sherlock’ doesn’t seem fitting with the role you play in her life. You’re a parent and I think that, if you want to, we should acknowledge that.”

“I’m not her parent. I’m her godfather.” Sherlock didn’t understand what John was trying to express. 

“Sure, you are. But you are a parent to her. You do what a parent does for her. You are as much a father as I am. Moreover, we are a couple. We are a family and I think it would be good to let her call you her dad if she wants to. And I believe she already does. Look how often she calls you ‘Da’.”

“This is … nice of you.”

John was staring at Sherlock and still could see uncertainty. He had to make Sherlock see what they were, how this was permanent to him, to his daughter.

“You are her dad and you are the love of my life. To be honest, I would like to ask you to make all of this official. I don’t want anyone to ever doubt we are a family or to try to take Rosie from you if anything happened to me. So, Sherlock Holmes, would you marry me ?”

A small ‘Oh’ formed on Sherlock’s lips and he seemed to go offline. He always had difficulties process strong emotions and this seemed to be a lot for him to handle.

John sat back on the sofa and let him process. He knew Sherlock enough not to push. The room was silent and John was listening to the ticking of the clock when a small "yes" came from Sherlock's mouth. John sat up and took Sherlock’s face between his hand. “Are you sure ? Do you really want all of that?” 

Sherlock’s eyes focused on him and he repeated a more assured “yes”.

There was nothing more to say. They would have time later to discuss the logistics of it all but right now John needed to kiss his lover, partner and now fiancé. So he did. 

The kiss quickly grew to something more and soon they were both naked on the sofa, kissing and rutting against each other. John was on top of Sherlock. Searching for breath, he stopped kissing him and sat on his thighs. The movement was met with a disappointed moan which made John chuckle. Sherlock was lying the cushion with his eyes closed and a small frown on his face. John’s thumb followed the line of the wrinkles of his eyes and he whispered. “Can I ask for one more thing tonight ?”

Sherlock’s eyes were still closed and he only answered “Already did.”

John chuckled again, bent down to whisper in Sherlock’s ear “I want to feel you in me tonight. Would my lovely fiancé like to fuck me ?”

The words made Sherlock’s eyes open instantly. Sherlock was usually the one bottoming and loved it. However, he enjoyed being on top just as well. It had taken John time to let him and it was still a seldom occurrence even if he had discovered he enjoyed it a lot. It was sometimes hard for him to let go and he definitely wanted to let go that night and feel Sherlock in him.

To show his enthusiasm with the proposition, Sherlock kissed him before slipping one of his hand to John’s buttocks and slowly touching his entrance with the tip of one finger. It made John groan loudly and push against the probing finger. There was no way he would be able to take Sherlock without lubrication though. They both knew it and quickly relocated to the bedroom.

Once on the bed, Sherlock manhandled John onto his hands and knees. This display of strength aroused John and he had to restrain himself from begging Sherlock for his cock. Not seeing Sherlock was exciting too, there was no way of anticipating what he'd do.

The first thing John felt was Sherlock’s tongue licking his hole. The detective was unrelenting, his tongue going from licking his hole to following a path to the top of his leaking cock and sucking it in his mouth. John was shaking with the onslaught of sensations. Sherlock’s tongue was soon replaced by his hands, one stroking his cock and the other probing at his entrance. Two lubed fingers were soon going in and hitting his prostate with uncanny accuracy. By this point John was a babbling mess and had to use all his resolve to manage to articulate a sentence.

“Please, need you. Won’t last if you continue.” When he heard the words, Sherlock took his fingers out of John’s arse and squeezed the base of his cock.

He gave John a few seconds to calm down before letting his cock go. Sherlock then knelt behind him and John heard the sound of the bottle of lube. He tried to turn  his head to watch his lover as he entered him but his eyes closed when he felt Sherlock’s hard cock enter his body. Sherlock started a slow rhythm, giving John time to adjust. They were both breathing heavily. John began to moan loudly when Sherlock accelerated his strokes. He wanted to touch Sherlock and tried to reach behind him with one of his hand but could only grab his hip. Sherlock understood and grabbed John’s torso to pull him against his body in a kneeling position. They were now skin on skin, one of John’s hand in Sherlock’s hair the other on his own cock. Sherlock was holding him upright, kissing his neck and pounding into him hard and fast. 

Without warning John came on the sheets, screaming Sherlock’s name. Exhausted he fell back on his knee and let Sherlock use his body to chase his own orgasm. Sherlock grabbed his hips with force and pushed in a few more times before coming in John’s arse. They stayed like that for a few seconds, both breathless, before Sherlock finally pulled out and John crashed against the mattress. Sherlock lay down next to John and took him in his arms, pulling him away from the wet spot.

John laid his head on Sherlock's chest and placed a kiss against his heart.

"That was... wow. I should ask you to marry me more often." This made Sherlock laugh.

"I didn't want to disappoint my fiancé." Sherlock put a kiss on John's hair and they both let the word 'fiancé' echo in the air.

It was the beginning of a wonderful and exciting new part of their lives. One thing was certain, John would never again be unable to sleep as long as he spent his nights in Sherlock's arms.