John cannot tend to himself. His arms hurt so much, that he keeps his old clothes on, when slowly coming down to breakfast. Still no sign of Sherlock. No texts either. John just sits down at the table. How would he prepare breakfast? He could ask Mrs. Hudson for help. But no, he wasn't hungry anyway. Instead he stares at the words he had written in the night, the chalk barely readable. He starts to cry again. If he could, he would put his arms on the table to bury his head in them. Instead, he simply leans forward to rest his forehead on the tabletop, the tears creating little puddles under his eyes.

Suddenly, there is a noise, and John's head jerks up, scanning the kitchen. But nothing stirs. "Sherlock?", he cries hopefully. "Sherlock, if you're there, please come out, I'm sorry!" Then, there is another noise, and he hastily gets up, kicking against the chair, staggering, his vision blurred from crying, to stumble and fall... into Sherlock's arms. When he realizes it, he immediately tries to hold on to him with his 'good' arm, gritting his teeth in pain, pleading: "Please don't leave, I'm sorry, it's all my fault!"

"Let go John, you're hurting yourself.", the detective calmly delivers, helping the doctor stand back up. "Please stay, I wanna apologize!", he insists, "I know what happened, Mycroft showed me, I..." "Mycroft?", the younger Holmes retorts puzzled. "Yes he... was watching... us. Ahem.", John replies shy. "Hmm. Damn. I always forget to check your room, when I look for his hidden cameras.", Sherlock ponders, more to himself. John is surprised: "You know about the cameras? Did he bug the whole flat? Oh my God. Not the bathroom too?" "Yeah, he installs them on a regular basis and I keep wrecking them.", the detective explains, but then gives him a questioning look, asking: "You saw the footage?"

John blushes, but keeps holding on to Sherlock, who starts moving towards the couch, to sit. Watson confesses: "Yes. He gave me the recording. To prove that..." He looks at him with guilt in his eyes and whispers: "I'm so sorry Sherlock! I'm sorry, I ever thought you would... do that to me. I was just so scared!" And the tears flow again. Sherlock finally displays some emotion himself, as he carefully hugs John, and with concern asks: "But why? Do I treat you so badly, that that's the first thing you can imagine, when waking up next to me?" "Well, no, yes, no, I, I mean...", John tries, but has to stop to take some deep breaths.

Then he continues: "I just don't want to be like that. That's why I panicked and started to attack you, because it would mean, it's not my fault... but it was." Sherlock looks at his friend, utterly confused. It seems as though he has a hard time deducing what John is trying to say. So, after a while, he comes clean: "I'm... I don't want people to call me gay. I don't want them to treat me like that. I don't want them to look at me, like I'm... something ugly. I don't hate gays, it's okay, like I told you on our first d.. evening. I don't want to treat them different from the others, but I'm scared of how others will treat me, if they think I'm... like that. And now I am. Shit!"

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Sherlock looks at him with a slight smile, confusing him, and inquires: "John, you slept with women, and you liked it, didn't you?" The doctor nods, a bit ashamed of this kind of questioning. "And you also fell in love with girls?", the detective adds, making his roommate wonder: “Yes. Why do you ask?" Sherlock replies: "Because then people can't call you gay and you shouldn't think of yourself as gay. If anything, you could be bi, or even pan or maybe hetero-flexible, but if you were gay, men would be your only interest and that's not the case. So if that is what scares you, you can give it a rest."

John slowly shakes his head, giving Sherlock a long, baffled look. His friend on the other hand reassures him: "John, just because you had sex with a man once, doesn't mean you can now only have sex with men and never again with a woman. If this was just a slip-up that won't happen anymore, then you might as well still consider yourself straight. So why are you so scared?" John stares at his friend in surprise, asking: "But... what do you mean, if it was a slip-up? Does that mean you don't care? I mean, I thought you wanted more. More than just that, I mean." Sherlock backs away from him, getting distant and calm again, and without facing him states: "It is something I filed away in my mind palace. So if I wish to relive the night, I can always go back there. But I do thank you for the experience."

John has to swallow hard. Then he leans towards his friend and stares at him, until Sherlock finally turns, to make clear: "Sherlock, I can't say that I'm completely calmed now, but seeing what we did... How you touched me, so gentle, so eager, so intense! And the way you looked... I know, you remember, because you said, you always do, so... Why shouldn't we do that again some time?" Sherlock stares back, but it seems there are tears lingering in his eyes. And then he quietly muses: "It's okay John. I know Mycroft told you, I might hurt myself, but I didn't, cuz you still need my help. You don't have to..." He closes his eyes for a moment, to emphasize: "You were drunk and lightheaded from the pills, you weren't yourself. I shouldn't have..." But he can't continue because John suddenly kisses him. "I'm not drunk now, am I?", he asks.

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They kiss, getting up of the couch. They kiss, walking up the stairs to John's room. They kiss on the bed, while Sherlock helps John out of his clothes. And they kiss, kiss, and kiss, while Sherlock re-enacts the last night with John, even happier, even more eager, to show him the emotions he had to silence all his life, as John just lets his worries go, giving into the feelings he had to hide so long, to sink into his arms.

Later that day, Mycroft receives a text: 'Happy announcement heading your way. Hope you enjoyed our new video! SH'

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