Title: Declaration
Author: Keikokin
Fandom: BBC Sherlock Pairing: Johnlock
Word Count: 1,790…………Rating: K+……Warnings: Fluff
Characters: John Watson, Sherlock Holmes, Mike Stamford, Mrs. Hudson
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me. No maliciousness was intended on my part. This is not for profit.
Authors note: I haven’t written in ages. And this is my first foray into this fandom. My apologies for any errors, they are all mine since I don’t know if my beta’s even remember who the hell I am.
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Sherlock stood by the front window, which was open a bit to allow a cool breeze to flow through the flat. John sat in his chair and was reading the paper with a wet cloth from the freezer around his neck. Sherlock’s music became so sad that John lowered the paper to look at the other man. Suddenly, Sherlock put the violin down, plopped himself in front of John and steepled his hands in front of him. He leaned forward and studied John before lowering his eyes.

John tensed. While he was used to Sherlock’s changeable moods and random change of topics, Sherlock’s current behavior indicated he was very seriously analyzing something in that amazing brain. “Sherlock –“

Sherlock shook his head. “No John. I don’t want any tea. I need to say something and I want you to stay right where you are.”

“Okay.” John sat forward, as if to help Sherlock get the words out.
“After I say what I need to say, I will immediately leave the flat for the greater part of the day to allow you to seriously consider the ramifications of what I’m about to admit.” Sherlock inhaled deeply. “When I woke this morning, it was to the realization that my work, THE work has changed.”

John frowned.

“I once said to you that I was married to my work. I still hold that to be largely true. But the work has grown to encompass more than a simply purpose. I have discovered through your numerous close calls that it needs to be shared to have meaning.”
John inhaled sharply.

“It never had meaning before you John. You bring meaning to my work and in so doing my life. We already live together and share the work together. And you are more important to me than breathing and far more interesting. I have lost sleep over the thought of losing you. I believe we should make our relationship more permanent.”

Sherlock shot to his feet and bolted to the door. Despite his promise to be still John also shot to his feet and managed to blurt out. “I’m not gay!”

The other man stopped at the door, which was now open. “No, but you feel the same John. Don’t be so banal as to label what we have as ordinary.” He quickly shot down the stairs and John could hear the slam of the door behind him.

It was loud enough that Mrs. Hudson poked her head out of her apartment. She moved to reclose the door, making sure it was shut properly when she spotted John’s stunned face at the top of the stair.

“Oh, sorry dear. I thought you’d gone out with him.” She smiled brightly. “It’s so cute how you always dash about together. Why I was just telling –“

“Yes, thank you.” John closed the door and leaned up against it. Mrs. Hudson was right he and Sherlock were always together. Was Sherlock was right too? His phone went off and he looked down at the text.

Up for a pint?

It was from Mike Stamford. John was grateful for Mike’s timing. He quickly agreed, sending back his answer and headed off to the corner pub. The walk there might help him sort things out.


Mike shook his head the second he saw John. The former soldier looked shaken, and Mike knew all too well only Sherlock Holmes could do that to someone who was usually so unflappable. John already had a drink in his hand as he sat down so Mike toasted him and took a swig. “What’s Sherlock done now?”

John blinked a few times, before pinching his upper brow. “Is it that obvious?”
“You forget I’ve known Sherlock Holmes longer than you.” Mike laughed and took another drink.

“Mike, has he ever, um, dated anyone since you’ve known him?”

“Oh, it’s like that is it?” Mike waggled his eyebrows at John, laughed and took another drink. “I thought you were straight John. Sherlock change your mind? He does tend to effect people doesn’t he?” Mike smiled. “No John, never seen him with anyone although he practically charms the pants off poor Molly Hooper to get her to do things that aren’t by the book.” He shrugged. “But that’s just how the bloke is. Everyone knows that.” He shrugged again.

John stared down into his drink. His mind was racing. He shrugged in Mike’s direction and looked around the pub before focusing his mind once more on Sherlock. He had so many questions.

What did Sherlock mean by making things permanent? Did he mean announcing they were an official couple? But they had never done anything remotely in a sexual direction. Maybe Sherlock meant they should have sex. Sherlock had said John was labeling this. Was he? He thought over his dismal dating history and how many times he’d dropped everything for his flat mate.

“You’re doing it again.” Mike announced breaking John out of his reverie. Seeing the confusion on John’s face he added. “That look on your face means you’re thinking about Sherlock. What did he say?” He laughed. “Or maybe I should ask what did he do? You do know that everyone thinks the two of you are shagging like –“

John held up a hand. Mike stopped talking and John could feel his cheeks flush. “He told me he’s losing sleep thinking about me; that he’s lost without me and that I’m the only thing bringing meaning to his life. He says I’m part of the work and he wants to make things permanent but I don’t understand what he means.” By the end he was talking so fast, he was out of breath.

Mike reached out and put a hand on John’s good shoulder. “Calm down John and tell me the whole story.” They spent the next ten minutes with John relaying the exact working and lots of drinking in between. By the end of the tale, neither man was in any pain. John sat back waiting for Mike’s reaction.

“If you said that to a woman John, what would she think?”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

Mike rolled his eyes. “Play along Captain.”

“Fine” John took another drink and tried to wrap his mind around the different scenario; he and some woman working together and living together for months, spending their every waking moment together some days. “I guess she’d think I’d gotten serious and was talking a long term relationship possibly that I wanted to marry her.”

“So how is it any different because it was Sherlock saying it to you? He doesn’t say things he doesn’t mean. You should know that.”

John spent the rest of the time at the pub listening to Mike talk about his favorite show on the telly. He was able to follow it rather easily, but his mind was on Sherlock. His phone went off and he was surprised to see it was from Harry.

Her text said, “Some idiot just explained his intentions toward you. What the hell goes on Johnny?”

Mike looked at John questioningly. “Have to go?”

“I got a text from Harry. She’s had a visit from Sherlock who apparently went to her to explain his bloody intentions in regards to me. I don’t believe it.”

Laughter erupted from his companion. “He’s so old-fashioned,” Mike slurred. “Only the best money can buy for Sherlock, spoiled bugger.” He began to laugh again, while John stared at his phone wondering what to reply.

“Send him home please.”

“Gladly.”

John put his phone away and after saying his goodbyes to Mike headed back to the flat. He still didn’t know what to say. Ever since Afghanistan he was more a man of action than words. He usually left the talking to Sherlock. John needed to do something. He just wasn’t sure where it might lead. He’d been in the flat for only five minutes before he heard the familiar sound of Sherlock bounding up the steps a few at a time. A large smile was plastered on his face. “You’ve thought about it.” He then curled up his nose. “And been drinking with Mike again.”

John laughed and said, “Careful Sherlock you sound like my wife.” He was a bit tipsy, but nothing a strong cuppa wouldn’t fix.

The air suddenly went still with tension and Sherlock stared at John seriously. The moment of quiet hung heavy between them, both seeming to sense this was the turning point in their lives. “You don’t seem upset by the prospect.”

“I guess not.” John walked toward Sherlock while muttering several imaginative Arabic curses under his breath before he grabbed Sherlock’s face and pulled him into a searing kiss.”

He pulled back and shook his head. “I don’t bloody believe it.”

“What?” Sherlock asked as a large smile covered his face.

“I enjoyed kissing a man. But I’m straight. Or at least I thought I was.”

If anything Sherlock’s grin grew. “No labels. But just for the record spaghetti is straight too until you heat it.”

John laughed. “You are making a cooking reference? I didn’t know you knew how to cook if it didn’t involve a Bunsen burner.”

Sherlock shrugged indifferently. “Your sister had a cooking show on the telly.”

“I can’t believe you went to see Harry!” Sherlock shrugged and looked down, his smile leaving his face before he stood taller in the aristocratic way only Holmes could. “It seemed the proper thing to do.”

“Mmm hmm and Mycroft had nothing to do with it?”

Sherlock remained silent, so John knew he was right, but he let it go. “So where do we go from here Sherlock?”

“You lead and I’ll follow.” Sherlock’s eyes had become smoky and deep. It made John wonder if he should explore that purr in Sherlock’s voice when he talked about following.
“Isn’t that a bit reverse to how we usually do things around here?”

“Yes.” Sherlock’s cheeks pinked. John knew he was right again but tried not be too smug about his small victories. But it did embolden him further.

“Like this?” John asked kissing Sherlock once more with some added body rubbing. Sherlock melted against him, the effect John had on him was profound. A growl escaped John’s throat as he pressed Sherlock back, falling together onto the sofa in a tangled mess of arms, limbs, groping and panting.

“Oh yes John exactly like that.” Sherlock said breathlessly after the kiss ended. He looked like a cat that just had a bowl of cream.

For the first time since John came home from the war, everything felt so right. John smiled happily. “You’re brilliant to have thought of this.”

“Dreamed,” Sherlock corrected. “I dreamed of us.”