6. Red & yellow roses

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Sherlock pov
I was waiting on Greg to arrive. I was sure that whatever he wanted to tell me. It would be about what happened with John. For god's sake I still can't believe that I kissed him. It wasn't really a kiss, just a brief peck on the lips. But yea, my cupid bow lips touched his soft ones. I felt my heart beating faster at the thoughts. I shook my head and drank from my cuppa which I prepared minutes ago.

When there was a knock on the door. I placed my mug onto the counter and made my way to the door, not bothering to hurry up. I opened the door and immediately I went rigid.

John.

For god's sake Lestrade. Wait until I see him.

"Sherlock." John said, clearing his throat and pushed past me. I really have no idea what to do now, so I just remained silence at the door, unable to think straight. "Sit down." John demanded, pointing to the sofa that belonged to this hotel. John sat himself down into an armchair opposite of the sofa. I swallowed, meeting John's eyes briefly before sitting down into it. John looked angry, what is reasonable I guess. I sunk deeper into the sofa, refusing to have eye contact with John.

"For how long." John asked grumpily, running a hand through his sweaty hair. Why had he been sweating?

"You sound angry." I remarked dryly. John was clenching his fists, his knuckles turning white.

"For how long, Sherlock." John asked again, his voice raising. I had no idea what he was asking me, so I simply replied.

"For how long what?" I asked him, meeting his gaze for a moment before I looked back at my lap.

"How long have you been..." He was stuttering and seemed like he didn't want to finish his sentence. I sighed, I really didn't want this conversation right now. Never actually. I looked up as our eyes locked.

"I don't know when I started to feel." I paused, looking away again. "Feelings." I looked up at him again, his face softened and his cheeks were flushed. I licked my lips, unaware I did so and continued. "I found out during the best man speech on the wedding day. And when I was playing the song I composed. You looked so happy and calm with Mary and then knowing that you two will have baby. I uh..." I paused again, gosh why can't I just talk normal to him. Screw you John Watson, for messing with my brain.
"I can't explain what I felt at that moment. I looked at my surroundings afterwards, seeing everyone happy on the wedding and then you had me. The freak who happened to fall in love with his best friend. I never felt something for someone before. And then of course it had to be you. I'm the worst best friend anyone can imagine. I avoided you because I couldn't bear to see you this happy with Mary. I've always had been wearing a mask when you two came. Inside I was breaking. I couldn't tell you anything, since I didn't want to lose our friendship. Even though avoiding you was even worse. I'm truly sorry John. I understand if you want to stop our friendship." I finished and closed my eyes, not wanting to hear the painful reply from John. I crawled my head in my hands, waiting on a reply from him when suddenly I felt a soft hand touching my shoulder. I snapped my head up and was met with John standing in front of me. He sat himself down next to me onto the sofa. I was confused.

"Sometimes you can be such an idiot, Sherlock." John said, chuckling, his head shaking.

"I'm sorry." I muttered, not really knowing why I am apologizing again and why John was laughing. Did I say something funny?

"No no no." John paused. "I will be honest with you Sherlock." Okay here it comes. "You told me once that you were watching me a couple times when I visited your grave, am I right?" John asked. I nodded, my eyebrows knitted firmly together. "A year in a row, I went to your grave, placing red roses at your grave." He said. I nodded again, not knowing what he meant with that. I'm probably being an idiot again because John was snorting with disbelief. "You Sherlock Holmes definitely knows the differences between red and yellow roses." John pointed out. Of course I do, what a stupid question.

"Red is for love and yellow for friendship." I answered simply. Still not getting the point of this. John rolled with his eyes, frustrated.

"So?" He sighed with annoyance.

Ooooh.

My eyes widened, but my eyebrows stayed in the same position. John placed red roses on my grave, why didn't he put yellow ones? Does this mean he loves me? Or loved me.

"Oh." I mumbled. I didn't know how to reply since I didn't have the experience in situations like this. If Mary and the baby didn't exist. I would pull John to me and slam my lips on his, knowing its mutual and a right thing to do. But everything is different now. I can't believe that John loved me. Part of me still hopes that he still loves me. "You loved me?" I asked, my voice croaking. John was smiling softly and scooted closer to me. I looked away, glaring at the uninterested door until I felt John's hand on my cheek, turning my face to meet his eyes.

"No." He said. I felt my heart breaking slightly. I knew he didn't love me anymore, but hearing it made it more painful. "There was never a day that I stopped." John said softly, his thumbs pressing against my cheeks. I didn't expect this to come out of his mouth. I felt my face heating up and my heartbeat accelerating. Then suddenly, John leaned in, his lips were on mine, soft and demanding. They work on me, alternately careful, loving and rough possessive. I cautiously wrapped my arms around John, pulling him closer. His lips were brushing mine gently. Now they are harder, more urgent. Soft pressing against soft, turning churning, nipping my mouth. Warm heat enters my mouth. His tongue, fighting with mine. A bit later John pulled back slowly, foreheads resting on each other. He looked into my eyes, breathing heavily. He smiled and I smiled back, blushing madly.

"That was..." He started breathlessly.

"Extraordinary." I said smirking, repeating one of John's words from when we first met, which he recognized for sure because he pecked my lips again. He then embraced me tightly and I snuggled my head in the crook of his neck. The only problem now was Mary and the baby. I wish it was only me and John. But sadly that wasn't reality. And I could see John's expression changing. I guess for a moment he forgot that he had a pregnant wife at home.

"Oh god Sherlock." He suddenly said, desperated.

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