The evening had just about settled in when John Watson stopped round his old apartment, 221B Baker street, to see Sherlock Holmes. Watson rapped on the door to Holmes's room before entering twice.

"I just wanted to say hello. I don't think I've seen you in quite some time after we solved that case." John said.

"Is that it, Doctor? You've popped in for a moment before turning around and leaving?

"I'll take off my coat, then." Watson chuckled as he unbuttoned his coat. "How have you been?" He flung the coat over the arm of a chair.

"Dreadful. The house has been too dull with you gone. I need someone to speak to and Mrs. Hudson surely doesn't listen to me the same way you do."

"Could you compress six weeks of idle prattle to a half an hour? I'm off to have dinner with Mary's parents."

"Again?"

"I'm going to succeed this time."

"What if we get caught up in an adventure?"

"We won't."

"But what if I need you to listen to me?"

"I see that we've come to the root of the problem, now." Watson smirked. "The true reason you can't bear to see me married to Mary."

Holmes turned round, his mouth hanging open just lightly, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

"You need someone to stroke your ego. You are no longer accustomed to your own incessant self-pleasing. You need your loyal dog to wag his tail at every command you give."

Holmes reeled as though stung, his brows furrowed slightly and his mouth hung agape in shock.

"How… how on earth could you possibly think that?"

"Oh, it hasn't been evident enough?" Watson's eyebrows raised. "How fantastic you see yourself?"

"No… I know that I saw myself in a certain way… but how could you think that I see you in that way?"

Waston scoffed. What other way could you possibly see me?" Watson shook his head. "You're the fantastic to my average, and you know it."

"Self-depreciation looks good on no one, my friend."

"I'm being as plain as I possibly can be, Holmes."
Holmes looked down and wrung his hands. "I… I must confess Watson… that I do hold you in a higher esteem than myself." Holmes said quietly. "I must inform you that you are incredibly wrong. I have come to regard you as more than a close friend in these recent years."

There was a thoughtful pause before Watson replied with a gently confused,

" 'More than a friend'?"

"I can't explain it away old boy." Holmes muttered. "believe me, now I have tried it."

Watson took a slow breath and frowned. "Holmes what you're suggesting… it it even possible?"

"It seems invariably so." Holmes muttered. "Kindly keep this information to yourself—I can't have… it would more than tarnish my reputation."

"You still haven't been clear as too what it is that I'm keeping silent." Watson steppted towards Holmes. Sherlock clenched his jaw and turned to Watson.

"Dammit, man—I'm trying to say that—that I love you." Watson's lips parted in shock. "And as much as I can't stand to admit it I—I need to have you with me. It already felt like the end. It already felt like this was how it would end. We would be together in this apartment until we died." Holmes said painfully. "We would grow old together. You would pursue anyone because I was enough. I never pursued anyone because you were more than enough for me." He closed his eyes for a moment and breathed, "Don't pretend that you didn't see it too. Don't pretend, Watson.

"I….I admit…" Watson said. "I imagined that I would live with you forever" Watson turned away. "But then I grew up. I realized that I was a sidekick in your fantasy life. That there was no practical reason for my involvement to your affairs."

"Untrue, untrue…" Sherlock whispered.

"Though I must admit that I take pleasure in seeing your jealousy of Mary."

"You torture me, Watson." Holmes tried to bite back a small smile.

"Well… what do you propose we do about this?" Watson murmured. Holmes's jaw quivered.

"Indulge me."

"I feel that I indulge you far too often and far too thoroughly." Watson chuckled. Holmes stepped nearer to Watson, and Watson did no back away.

"But for a moment…" Holmes whispered. "Pretend that it is us two. Just us two, in the entire world. Can you imagine?"

"I have before. Quite often that feels just the case." Watson's voice was less than a whisper now, "And sometimes when I don't even think about it, I… I miss you with such a longing—"

Holmes grabbed Watson's lapels and pulled him into a kiss. Gentle and meaningful, but deep and passionate. When they parted, Watson's lips were trembling at Sherlock's hot breath against them. Sherlock fell back into his chair, unable to stand any longer. Watson leaned heavily on his walking stick.

"The term 'weak in the knees' isn't a term to be taken lightly, is it?" Holmes chuckled uncertainly. "I've been longing to do that for quite some time now."
"Oh hell—" Watson dropped his stick with a clatter and straddled Holmes's lap, pulling him into a messier, more fervent kiss. Sherlock responded enthusiastically.

"Holmes…" Watson whispered between breathy mouthfuls of the man, "If I to you were a woman—" He scooped Holmes into another kiss.

"I would have wed you months ago. Perhaps moments after meeting you." Holmes smiled into John's mouth. John hesitated and pulled back.

"It's not that I prefer men over women…" he clarified. "it is simply that I prefer you over anyone else."

"I would be lost without you, John. Completely and utterly lost. I can just barely remember the days before I met you where I plodded on with my existence. You can't make me return to that dreary life."

"She is more than just a girlfriend now, Holmes." Watson stilled himself and merely sat upon Holmes's lap facing him. "She's my fiancé."

"But I love you more than she does." Holmes protested. Watson ran a hand through Sherlock's hair and the man closed his eyes at the feeling. He cupped Holmes's cheek affectionately and murmured,

"I know." He leaned in again to catch Holmes in a kiss. "Sherlock." He whispered. Suddenly his whole body tensed. "What are we doing? This is wrong." He stood, harried.

"How could this be wrong? How could love ever be wrong?" Holmes stood with Watson.

"When it is between two members of the same gender!" Watson said angrily, throwing his coat on. "We are gentlemen! We are two men and this isn't natural!"

"I don't care." Sherlock breathed. "I see facts and I will come to my own conclusions based on my personal feelings towards you. Deny me all you want, Watson, but the truth of the matter is that I love you more than Mary every could, more than Mary every will—and I will never stop. I devote myself to you and only you until I die."

Watson's jaw clenched and he look a tentative step towards the Holmes before turning to the door.

"For the record, Holmes… If this were a different world… and if I were a stronger man… I would openly return your affection—"

"Let's together create that world." Holmes stepped forward and grabbed Watson's hands. 'You and I—leave the world behind us, eh? Like old times."

"The old times are old, Sherlock." Watson said painfully, slipping his hands out of Sherlock's. "I'm engaged to Mary, now. And I love her." Holmes's hurt showed plainly on his face at Watson's words. "Yes, I love her." He murmured. "But never as much as I could love you. Feel safe in that knowledge, Holmes."

A tear rolled down Sherlock's cheek.

"Mary is the luckiest person in the entire world." Sherlock admitted. "To be able to lie down next to you every night and know that you love her. That has to be the most amazing thing. To lie with the most amazing man in all of England."

Watson chuckled at Sherlock's tears and sad smile. "She does not know what it is to lie next to the best man in England. She's never laid with you."

Holmes leaned forward and pulled John into a tight hug.

"I love you, my friend. I love you more than life." Holmes murmured.

"And I love you, Sherlock. You color my grey life." They looked each other in the face and Sherlock sighed.

"Now… off you trot. To that dinner with her parents. You're going to be late."

"Not again, I'm not." Watson laughed.

"Then go!" Holmes smiled, wiping his face free of tears. They shared one last look before Watson turned from Holmes and clicked the door shut behind him.

I wrote this on the edge of my calc notebook and my friends were trying to peek over and see what I was writing. Well. Just a little thingy! I've got a BBC Sherlock fan fiction that's 13,000 words and halfway finished that I've been working on so I figured I needed some form of small fic… yep!

Tell me what you thought!