The Mad House

Love And Lunacy Go Hand In Hand

"Mary! I didn't expect to see you here!" John exclaimed, finding that it was rather easy to smile at his wife. Finding it was extremely easy to be relieved, even if she had interrupted him in a rather awkward moment. He gave her a big hug and a quick kiss, leaning over to pat Rosie on the head. The little girl managed a little smile, waving her arms as if she knew enough to be glad to see his face again.
"That's new." Victor muttered quietly, for obviously he was surprised to see John had any sort of life outside of the two of them.
"Well how could I resist welcoming you home? It's been awfully lonely." Mary admitted with a smile, taking John's hand before looking over to where Sherlock and Victor stood. "Sherlock, good to see you again. How was the conference?"
"It was wonderful! Yes I um...I learned a lot of new things." Sherlock said with some hesitation, nodding his head in enthusiasm. Mary didn't seem to find anything odd about his response, thankfully, and proceeded to look upon Victor with some enthusiasm.
"I'm sorry, I don't recognize you." She admitted.
"Ah, Professor Trevor, I apologize. I'm here to teach at the university, they needed a new art teacher." Victor said without missing a beat, extending his hand towards Mary to shake. She shook it rather excitedly, as if she too was able to notice just how beautiful Victor was. Oh not her too?
"An art teacher, all the way from Paris! I didn't know we had the budget for such things. Is that a piece of your art under your arm?" Mary asked, just now noticing the canvas that Victor was thankfully able to cover up with his arm.
"Ah, it shall be unveiled early next year, madame. It's not yet finished." Victor said quickly. John took a breath of relief, maybe something that was a little bit too obvious, for it caught his wife's attention and she turned her eyes back on him.
"And how was the conference for you, dear?" she asked.
"Oh it was boring; I really don't find all that stuff nearly as fascinating as Sherlock does." John admitted with a groan. "I'm just happy to be back on English soil."
"I couldn't agree more." Sherlock said with a nod. "John are you coming back to...to the hotel with us? Or will you be going with your wife back home?" John hesitated for a moment, knowing of course what would happen if he left Sherlock and Victor alone. And yet it was destined to happen, was it not? Sooner or later he would have to accept that Sherlock couldn't keep himself innocent for much longer, sooner or later he would have to accept that Victor would be the one. And so he would have to get it over with, like ripping a bandage from his skin, John would just have to let go.
"I think I'll head off with Mary, but Sherlock, do you mind if I have a quick word?" John wondered. Sherlock's ears perked up in interest, but he nodded quickly, looking over to Victor almost in some apology. Almost as if he hated to be separated by a couple more feet.
"Ya, alright." Sherlock agreed. John nodded, grabbing the boy by his shoulder and steering him off behind one of the baggage claims, which was large enough to shield them from the view of their partners. Hopefully Victor was carrying on conversation, so that their absence would not be missed. Sherlock looked a bit uncomfortable, yet John kept his hand on his shoulder, almost like a coach giving a pep talk.
"You're going to sleep with him?" John presumed, staring Sherlock straight into the eyes but putting his own desires aside. He told himself that it was over, this thing that had never begun. Sherlock turned a bright shade of scarlet, wiggling uncomfortably before shrugging an excessive amount of times.
"I don't know...I wasn't entirely planning on it. Not so soon I mean...I mean it's too soon?" Sherlock whispered.
"I don't think he understands time like that." John muttered. "He's a playboy, I'm sure as soon as I let you two alone he'll make his move."
"Is that...I mean you're okay with that? It won't kill me will it, he's not got any diseases or...well you're sure there's no way I can get pregnant? Will it hurt, I mean, does it...when he..."
"Stop alright, stop right there." John interrupted, holding up his hand in protest. "If you don't want to, tell him that. I'm sure he'll be alright with it. But if you do want to, well then do it. Don't worry about me..."
"Why would I worry about you?" Sherlock whispered anxiously. John frowned at him, yet refused to break this eye contact they had. It was rather refreshing to look into his eyes.
"Oh well that doesn't matter, I can just say that..."
"John you know that it could never have worked out between us." Sherlock interrupted in the smallest of whispers.
"Yes I know, and that's why I'm letting you go. Just don't do anything too quickly, don't fall for his charm without first thinking about what you want. I'm not entirely experienced in that field, but I'm sure you'll be fine. Just don't forget about me entirely, okay?" John insisted.
"I could never forget about you, John. Never." Sherlock assured, interrupting John as he opened his mouth to say a formal goodbye with a rather aggressive hug. It was a bit awkward, considering the height difference, for John was strained with holding up almost the entirety of Sherlock's body weight. Yet he hugged him back all the same, he wrapped his arms around that boy's neck and buried his face into his shoulder, trying to forget about the people who waited for them by the doors. For that brief moment he might have forgotten all of his hesitations, and all of the jealousy that was bubbling inside of him. He smelled that familiar cologne, he felt that familiar heartbeat, felt those curls upon his cheek. The heat of Sherlock Holmes was almost something he had gotten used to, now when he might never feel it again. And yet for that split second with his arms around Sherlock's neck, well perhaps it was a moment too short. For as soon as they fell apart John felt that crushing weight all over again, as if he was being torn away from the love of his life a second time, this time more painful than the last. And with a smile, without a word, Sherlock turned and started his way back over to where their obligations were waiting, John following behind rather slowly. He wasn't so eager to return to the world that was waiting for him at the door.