He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not

Lunch With a Lovely Man

    As John was walking back he cast another glance at Sherlock's truck, deciding that if he wanted to say hi so badly, what was stopping him? He glanced at the house once more, trying to decide whether or not to just go for it when the door opened and Mrs. Hudson stepped out, holding a big glass jar full of what looked like iced tea.
"Oh hello John!" she said happily, spotting John as he stared very awkwardly at her house.
"Oh, Mrs. Hudson, yes, hello!" John said with a smile, walking closer.
"I'm making sun tea." Mrs. Hudson explained as John eyed the glass jar, nodding for a moment.
"Bit chilly for sun tea isn't it?" he wondered.
"As long as there is sunlight I've found that sun tea is always possible. Even in the winter you can make iced sun tea, which is especially yummy." She said with a smile.
"That sounds very nice, I've never tried that." John admitted. To be honest he's never had sun tea, but judging on the chilly wind he decided that it wasn't the best day for anything that had sun in the name.
"Can I help you with anything?" Mrs. Hudson wondered.
"Oh, no, sorry, just looking to see if Sherlock was around." John shrugged. Mrs. Hudson smiled proudly, as if she knew this question was going to come eventually.
"He's out back, I could get him for you if you'd like." She offered, and John shook his head.
"It's alright, just wanted to say hi if it was convenient." John shrugged, a horrible excuse honestly. Mrs. Hudson just smiled, as if she knew just what was going on. Old ladies and their all knowingness, it was so intimidating.
"You met Sherlock then?" she wondered.
"Ya, the other day when he was mowing my grass. Bit of a surprise, but I guess it looks nicer now." John decided.
"Oh it does, you're right. You should get a lawn mower or someone to shape that yard up once and a while, we're proud of our cleanliness around here." Mrs. Hudson pointed out not so subtly, and John just nodded, getting the hint.
"Oh, ya, sure. Maybe I'll just hire Sherlock myself." John suggested with a laugh, and Mrs. Hudson nodded.
"I'm sure he'd love that, he's so enthusiastic. Come on in for some lunch, I just made some sandwiches for he and I, I'm sure he'd be thrilled if you'd join us." Mrs. Hudson decided, opening the door and gesturing for John to come inside.
"Oh no, it's alright, I've got some leftover Chinese food." John assured, not quite sure why he was declining this offer. It seemed almost annoying if he insisted on showing up in all aspects of Sherlock's life, especially unannounced.
"Oh come on John, I insist." Mrs. Hudson insisted, nodding her head and walking into her house, leaving the door open. John sighed heavily, looking back at his own house but seeing that he had no other choice. He hated to disappoint Mrs. Hudson, especially when she did so much for him, and he wouldn't be disappointed if he had to see Sherlock again. The only problem was, what if he started blushing like mad, and especially in the presence of Mrs. Hudson? It already seemed like she knew too much, what if she found out the truth just by John's awkward body language? But John walked down the sidewalk anyway, stepping gingerly into her house and pulling the door shut. It looked eerily like his own house, set up in the same manner but decorated much nicer, with wreaths of flowers and branches hanging on the walls and black and white photographs of her family and grandchildren playing on the beach. It was a very elderly looking house, and John even noticed an orange cat dart up the stairs, as if terrified to see a new person. John was sure Redbeard liked that cat very much.
"There we go." Mrs. Hudson said with a little smile, seeing John walk apprehensively into the kitchen where she was preparing another yummy looking sandwich on a big roll.
"I should have the neighborhood over for a little house warming party, once I get properly moved in." John decided, standing rather awkwardly next to the counter while Mrs. Hudson made another sandwich. He looked out the window but didn't see any sign of Sherlock, although there were multiple garden tools spread out across the lawn. Evidently he was somewhere.
"Sherlock told me he helped you unpack, so I suppose you're one step closer." Mrs. Hudson said with a smile.
"You talked about me?" John wondered, and Mrs. Hudson just laughed, as if that were an obvious question.
"About you? Of course, you seem to be on his mind a lot lately." Mrs. Hudson agreed, and John felt his cheeks get a little bit red.
"Me? Oh, is that a good thing?" John wondered. Mrs. Hudson smiled knowingly, raising her eyebrows at him as if trying to transmit her thoughts into his brain.
"I suppose that depends." She decided.
"Depends on what?" John wondered, feeling as though he were getting to excited, too hopeful. Then again, Mrs. Hudson seemed a little bit too calm, sipping from a flowery mug and not saying anything.
"Is he...?" John muttered, not wanting to finish that sentence and hoping she could fill in the blanks.
"Is he what?" Mrs. Hudson wondered, a tone of amusement in her voice that told John she knew exactly what he was trying to ask.
"Is he, you know..." John looked around nervously, as if Sherlock were sitting at the kitchen table, listening to their entire conversation. "Gay?" he dropped his voice so low that he seriously doubted she heard him, but either she could read lips or she had very good hearing aids, because she smiled knowingly and sipped her tea once more.
"Sherlock's heart is Sherlock's business, I suppose you'll just have to ask him yourself." She decided, and John just sighed, all that anticipation diminishing at such a disappointing answer. John was going to respond when the back door opened and the smell of freshly mowed grass came wafting in.
"Hello Mrs. Hudson, I'm just about done..." Sherlock stopped when he saw John, his smile wavering for just a bit before it returned, as if he were pleasantly shocked to see John standing in his kitchen.
"John!" Sherlock said in surprise, brushing off the excess dirt from his shirt and looking over at Mrs. Hudson with an almost accusing glare.
"Hey Sherlock, I was just invited for, you know, for lunch." John shrugged; suddenly feeling very awkward in his presence, especially when he was sure Mrs. Hudson knew the inner workings of both of their minds.
"Well there's nothing wrong with that, good to see you again." Sherlock decided, wiping off his shoes and walking farther into the kitchen, his beautiful eyes watching John as he came closer. John was thrown into a mental battle, not knowing whether he wanted to step closer or step back, so he just stayed still, letting Sherlock approach the counter and peek at what sandwiches Mrs. Hudson was making.
"Looks lovely Mrs. Hudson." He said with a smile, patting her on the shoulder before walking over and standing next to John.
"All dressed up?" he observed, his eyes sweeping over John's button down shirt and slacks.
"Oh, ya, um, job searching." John muttered awkwardly, picking at his collar to prevent it from suffocating him. Then again he doubted it was the collar that was preventing him breathing; it was the knowledge that Sherlock was watching him.
"Job searching, sounds like fun. Where did you go?" Sherlock wondered.
"Oh the uh...the hospital. Rather depressing place to be honest." John admitted, shrugging and watching as Mrs. Hudson finished up the last of the sandwiches. He still felt Sherlock's eyes studying him, and he couldn't decide if that was a good or a bad thing. He could only hope that Sherlock wasn't judging him too harshly, maybe he liked what he saw.
"I saw Hamish get on the bus this morning, everything went alright I hope?" Mrs. Hudson asked, walking over with a platter of delicious looking sandwiches and placing them on the counter for everyone to pick at. She herself got a plate and put a half of a roast beef sandwich and some chips on it, sipping her tea before starting on her lunch.
"Ya, he's a little bit nervous, but I know Molly works over there so she'll watch out for him." John decided.
"He's a great little kid, I'm sure he'll be fine." Sherlock assured. John smiled hopefully, passing Sherlock a plate before getting a half of a turkey sandwich and some potato chips for himself.
"I saw Marie come out as well; I hope that went better than it looked." Mrs. Hudson muttered with a bit of a sour face.
"Marie...is that...?" John muttered.
"Mrs. Turner, the devil next door." Sherlock finished, biting into his sandwich dramatically. Mrs. Hudson sighed, leaning against the counter and nibbling on her own lunch.
"Ya, Mrs. Turner, definitely lives up to her reputation I'll say that much." John agreed.
"I hope she didn't scare you dear, she's the only one around here who's...well, abrasive." Mrs. Hudson assured.
"Oh it's alright, I know, everyone here is lovely." John assured with a smile, and Mrs. Hudson looked very relieved to hear that. Obviously she didn't want Mrs. Turner chasing out her friendly new neighbor.
"She didn't say anything too nasty I hope? She's got a temper that one, and she doesn't mind sharing her dislikes with the neighbors." Sherlock admitted.
"No, she just commented on Hamish's name, said it sounded like a sneeze, and complained about the bus going up and down the street." John shrugged. "I'm not going to bother with her."
"That's a good idea, just nod and ignore her, because if you try to live up to her expectations you will fail, or kill yourself trying." Mrs. Hudson muttered.
"There's a backstory there I'm sure." John decided, and Mrs. Hudson just laughed.
"Yes, yes there is. Half the reason I hired Sherlock in the first place." She agreed. Sherlock smiled proudly at being addressed, and Mrs. Hudson just laughed a little bit. "Such a child." Mrs. Hudson muttered.
"But you kept me just because I'm amazing." Sherlock pointed out.
"That and she pitied you." John added, and Sherlock's smile wavered.
"Well I thought my yard could always use a bit more help, and now that I'm old and I can't work like I used to it's very helpful to have a gardener." Mrs. Hudson admitted, and Sherlock's smile returned full force.
"Actually I was kind of wondering if you had any availability, if I start working and Hamish is at school I see no time for either of us to pay attention to the lawn, and with crows like Mrs. Turner next door I feel like it would be very helpful to have someone keeping things in shape." John shrugged. He watched Sherlock for a moment, who looked over at Mrs. Hudson like they both knew something that John didn't.
"Yes of course, I find myself making work around here, every day at the same yard; it gets a little bit boring." Sherlock agreed. John nodded, not really thinking about how on earth he was going to pay for this, but he smiled, happy to see Sherlock happy.
"Brilliant." John muttered.
"In fact I was already thinking about what I could do with that front flower bed." Sherlock admitted.
"I kind of thought you'd have ideas." John agreed, and Sherlock smiled guiltily down on him, his eyes sparkling. Mrs. Hudson just sighed, as if they were being so blindingly obvious, and continued on with her lunch.
"If you start working we'll be seeing very little of each other." Sherlock decided.
"It's not my fault you do nothing except pick weeds and stalk me." John shrugged, not sure how to answer that with anything else except an insult. Sherlock's smile only widened, looking down at John with that same knowing expression Mrs. Hudson so proudly wore. There was no doubt in John's mind that they had been discussing him, whether or not it was in good context was the only thing that worried him. If the two of them had been talking about how much they hate him then John would definitely feel uncomfortable standing in Mrs. Hudson's kitchen and trash talking her gardener.
"I don't stalk you, but I think you left your oven on." Sherlock muttered. Mrs. Hudson laughed and Sherlock just ate a potato chip, leaving John to ponder whether or not he even knew how to use his new oven. They ate the rest of their lunch through some small talk, most of the time it was just comfortable silence but after a couple of minutes they would talk about life or something like that. So when they were finished up John helped with what little dishes had been produced, drying and stacking the clean plates into the cabinet once more.
"Lunch was lovely Mrs. Hudson, thanks a lot for having me over." John said with a smile.
"Oh any time dear, any time. I love having guests over, especially when I can help welcome our new neighbor into the neighborhood." Mrs. Hudson assured with a smile.
"Well like I might've mentioned before, I'd love to have neighborhood gang over for dinner one night, once I get those stupid mice out of my grill." John decided.
"Or you could just order take out Chinese." Sherlock offered.
"Or that. Sorry again." John muttered rather awkwardly, still a little bit guilty about promising Sherlock a home cooked dinner.
"No need to apologize Mr. Watson, I'm perfectly happy eating anything as long as I am with good company." Sherlock assured.
"I'm good company then?" John wondered. Sherlock's lips broke into a little smile, nodding.
"The best." He assured. John smiled back up at him, his cheeks growing a little bit red but at the moment he didn't think it was terribly obvious. He only hoped that Sherlock's beautiful eyes couldn't detect the heat rising behind his skin.
"Well that's good, nice to know I'm appreciated." John decided. He heard Mrs. Hudson giggle a little bit form where she was standing so he cleared his throat and nodded, finally breaking eye contact and looking over towards the door.
"I guess I should go then." He decided.
"Yes of course, could I give you my number first?" Sherlock wondered, searching his pockets for a pen. This time John was sure they could both see his cheeks glowing, and he wasn't afraid to let his mouth hang open in surprise. That was a bit; well, obvious to say the least.
"Um...I mean..." John muttered, looking over at Mrs. Hudson who was now having trouble containing her laughter.
"For business purposes of course, for the gardening." Sherlock added hastily, patting his pockets and frowning. "No pen." He muttered almost worriedly, as if wondering why he didn't have a pen in his pockets.
"Here Sherlock, use one of mine." Mrs. Hudson decided, and Sherlock turned just in time to catch a very flowery pen flying at him.
"Brilliant, yes, thank you Mrs. Hudson." He muttered.
"You could always just type it into my phone." John pointed out, and Sherlock just frowned, as if John was trying to take all the fun out of his life.
"And where's the fun in that?" he wondered. John looked at him rather peculiarly, trying to decide if he were serious or not. Sherlock was wearing a pouty little frown that made him look a bit childish, if not completely adorable, and John just submitted completely. Who cared about practicality, there was no use if there was anything but a smile on Sherlock Holmes's beautiful lips.
"Alright, your way then." He decided. Sherlock smiled once more, holding out his hand as if John had something for him.
"I don't have any paper, if that's..."
"Your hand." Sherlock answered simply. John's eyes widened and he made very quick eye contact before looking away quickly, feeling his cheeks burning so red that he might catch on fire.
"My hand." he muttered, holding up his hand so that Sherlock's long fingers could wrap around it. Shivers went down John's arm as if he had just been electrocuted, and as soon as their skin touched his eyes locked once more with Sherlock, the green and blue torrent sparkling excitedly.
"I'm sorry if my hands are a bit rough, it's what happens when you're out in the yard all day." Sherlock muttered.
"No, you're fine." John muttered, the only words he could force out with so little breath making it to his lungs. It felt like Sherlock's touch was draining him of oxygen, he felt like he needed to gasp for breath but if he did then both Sherlock and Mrs. Hudson would know what Sherlock's touch was doing to him. He needed to stay silent, and even if that meant he had to suffocate in the meantime it would be worth it, he would die without either of them knowing the truth. Sherlock uncapped the pen and began to scrawl numbers down on John's palm; the ballpoint would've tickled his skin if his entire hand hadn't gone numb.
"There we are." He muttered, capping the pen once more but leaving John's hand in his own, his fingers slowly tracing their way over the back of John's hand, the softest skin he could ever imagine.
"Ya, there we are." John agreed, hastily pulling his hand away and letting Sherlock's drop back by his side. "Well I best be off, thanks again for lunch, and I guess I'll text you later Sherlock, see what dates and times could work." John decided, his voice feeling a little bit scratchy still.
"Yes of course, well as long as it doesn't interfere with my work here I'm sure it'll be fine." Sherlock decided.
"Ya, alright, should be easy enough then." John agreed, edging his way over to the door before either one of them could stop him and ask him more questions. For some reason John just really wanted to get out of this house, get out of the glare of Sherlock Holmes. "Alright then, bye." He muttered.
"Bye John, thanks for coming over!" Mrs. Hudson called.
"Goodbye Mr. Watson." Sherlock agreed, and John just nodded, smiling very awkwardly as he stepped out onto the sidewalk and pulled the door shut. He held his breath until he was safely across the street, scrambling into his own house and shutting the door as fast as he could, taking deep, steady breaths and leaning against the doorframe.
"Oh dear God." John muttered breathlessly, letting his head fall back onto the door and closing his eyes for a moment. He was right, oh of course he was bloody right, those feelings he had for Sherlock, they were real. They were embarrassingly real, he felt like he was back in middle school drooling over the prettiest girl in school except now Sherlock seemed to know exactly what was going on in John's mind, he definitely knew these conflicting feels that he was pushing around in his skull. But what could he do, he had no idea if Sherlock liked him back, he had no idea what to even say if he tried to ask him out, he's never liked a boy before, he had never even considered it, so what now? John sighed, shaking his head and regaining his posture once more. This was just going to be one of those things that he ignored, those feelings he pushed aside for good. Maybe he liked Sherlock, maybe Sherlock liked him, but the thought that anything could actually work was ridiculous, no matter what Hamish tried to say. There was no way John would be brave enough to ask Sherlock out, and there was no way he was going to take the chance when Sherlock would probably say no. How embarrassing would that be, then the whole neighborhood would discover how desperate John was for a partner. The divorcee that wanted love so bad he would result to his male gardener, forget it. He was crazy if he thought Sherlock was going to be on his arm anytime soon.