Setting sex or the lack thereof aside for a moment, no one will ever convince me that this moment isn’t two people falling completely in love with one another.  They both look so amazed, like they can’t quite believe what they’re seeing.  Is this person real?  How, after a whole lifetime of people who are not Sherlock and not John, can they suddenly exist?  

And the way each one of them responds is just perfect.  John laughs, genuinely, the tension completely gone from around his eyes and forehead for the first time since he came back to London.  

Sherlock laughs too but then he bites his lip, hesitates for a moment, because this is something new, because friends aren’t his area and he hasn’t asked someone to spend time with him for the simple sake of spending time together, no ulterior motive, no strategy, just wanting to be together, in the most straightforward, literal, sense of the phrase, since probably before adolescence.  

And while their smiles and expressions quieten, they keep the same openness, so that when each turns to glance at the other, observing, making sure he’s still there, marveling, maybe, they don’t look away or get embarrassed the way you do when someone catches you staring.  Because for some reason these two men with trust issues, who always, always protect themselves, have decided to put their faith in one another.  Instead they lock eyes for a moment of agreement and understanding before looking forward and going along their way, completely assured of, and by, the other’s continued presence.  

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