You jealous?" - Gleefully asks Irene.
John snaps back at her: "We're not a couple."
Irene smirks and answers without even glancing up from her phone: "Yes you are."
John's mind is blurred once again. He can't possibly count the times people thought they were a couple, but Irene doesn't seem to want to drop the subject, even more, she sounds so convinced saying that, it almost makes John doubt himself. This woman, the woman who is utterly clever and observant and the first lady who actually managed to outsmart Sherlock bloody Holmes, seems to be under the impression that John and Sherlock really are a couple. And it's so hard to convince the dominatrix. Why does everyone keep pushing this subject? Damn it, just stop, he's having a hard time dealing with all of this in the first place. And it's Sherlock we're talking about. He's Sherlock... He can't-
Never mind that, John is not attracted to men. He's not. It's just...
They're not a couple, they live together, but that doesn't mean anything. Sherlock is his best friend. He managed to turn his mundane life into an exciting one. He gave him the reason to live again, not just to survive like he was before, like really live a life. He couldn't possibly go back. He'd give everything away, even his life for him...
Then again, John can't remember most of the couples having this sort of bond with each other. This kind of devotion, specially no sex being involved. Well, she's right, they might as well be a couple, but so much more.. Soulmates? Partners? He doesn't know, he just can't seem to explain it.
Irene is ignoring him again and keeps typing annoyingly, while John tries so hard to think of a smart comeback but he can't, so he just goes with the first honest reply that goes through his mind:
- "I'm not actually gay."
That sounds so desperate and untrue, but god help him, he's being honest. All of his life John went out with women and never once fancied a guy, he'd have known it, especially being in the army and all. He is straight or whatever you want to call it, all he knows is that he is not gay; he just can't be identified as a gay man. And not because he'd be ashamed of being one or because he's a homophobe. No. His sister is gay and he's been perfectly fine with that, even respected Harry for coming out and being so brave. It's not that. He just knows he's not gay and is very tired of everyone assuming that and pretending to know what's going on when they don't. They don't know a thing.
Irene stops typing and looks up at John "Well, I am... Look at us both."
And then it all seems to click.
Neither of them should be attracted to Sherlock, but here they are.
Who cares about labels? Why does one keep dwelling on them? It doesn't matter, none of it does now. Can't they see?
John just smiles to himself.
This insane man who roamed his life and brought back all the excitement, this crazy, bloody man is a paradox himself. What is he capable of doing? How does he manage all of this? Bewitch people. Just enter someone's life and turn it upside down in a haze.
And he loves him for that, god help him, he does.
He's Sherlock bloody Holmes, annoying, sulky genius and he can't live without him.
It doesn't matter if he's asexual or married to his work, and it doesn't matter if John's gay or straight or a strawberry jam, it doesn't change anything. They belong together.
He'll be there as long as Sherlock allows him to. His loyal blogger, making sure he doesn't die of lack of sleep and hunger, solving crimes together and perfectly filling the gaps of each others lives.
And just the thought of that makes John's heart utterly warm.
He's Sherlock and he's John. Labels don't matter.
It's all fine.