John trudged up the steps to his room, readying himself for a reminder of his mistake when he saw all of Sherlock's things there abandoned. Or maybe they'd be gone? Maybe royalty had the resources to pack in an hour.
Would Howard take the room back now if John asked? Probably. His only offense to it was Sherlock's presence, after all. Then John could move back in with Mike and it really would be like this never happened.
John's eyes burned at the thought and he clamped his teeth harder around the section of his cheek that he was gnawing on to keep the emotions at bay. He tasted iron that time.
When he opened the door, the first thing he noticed was Sherlock's phone, shattered on the floor right in front of the doorway.
And then he saw Sherlock, standing in the middle of the room waiting for him.
"Oh thank god!" John gasped, running forward and squeezing Sherlock for dear life.
Sherlock was stiff against him. "I had written a monologue in order to start garnering your forgiveness. Apparently it was unnecessary."
"Oh no, it's necessary. It's so necessary. I could kill you right now. I'm just glad you aren't gone."
"Gone? That would be rather quick, don't you think?"
John backed up just enough to look at Sherlock, but didn't let go—fuck no he wasn't letting go; Sherlock might vanish like the perfect pipe-dream he was. "I saw Mycroft on the way out of town, and I saw someone else in the car, but he wouldn't look at me and I thought—"
"It was Lestrade. He's leaving. Going to fulfill his dream of becoming Detective Inspector, I imagine."
John had half a second to be a little disappointed, since he liked Greg and would miss him, but then he got back to the part that mattered. "But you're still here. I told you to scram."
"Yes, you did," Sherlock agreed. "At which point I immediately started figuring out a plan in which you could focus on your studies, I could be the prince you want me to be, and we can be together all at once. I didn't know how long it would take for you to forgive me but I was going to keep trying until it worked. I told Mycroft already and I'll say it again: I'm not leaving you. Not ever."
John grinned and put his head back into Sherlock's chest. Sherlock's body finally responded, his arms winding around John and his head leaning against the top of John's head.
"What did you do to your phone, you moron?" John asked, his voice muffled in Sherlock's scarf.
Sherlock snorted out a quick laugh. "Oh, that. Yes, well I was a bit upset and my phone got the brunt of that displeasure."
"Well if you hadn't done that, you'd have gotten my texts and you wouldn't have needed to be upset for nearly as long."
Sherlock ignored him and continued talking. "Then I realized that I was being irrational and I needed to start thinking up my plan and that damaging expensive technology wouldn't help at all."
"Yes, this perfect plan of yours," John muttered, this time separating completely—but keeping Sherlock's hand in his. "Supposing I forgive you for being a lying dickhead, I'd like to know the details of this plan."
Sherlock's mouth twitched up at the corner. "Alright, well it goes like this. I stay in America while you finish up medical school, and in the meantime work towards my Chemistry degree. I'll transfer to Varhard—they'll definitely take the prince of Denmark—and we'll get a nice flat together. I'll take a very heavy load of classes so that I'm gone often enough that you can get your work done. Because of my heavy workload, I'll get through my undergraduate in probably two years, so then I'll go for my Master's just for fun. So in four years you'll be ready to start residency as a doctor and I'll be a graduate Chemist."
John looked up at Sherlock suspiciously. "Okay, that plan means I get to focus and we stay together, but that doesn't address the 'you need to go home and be a prince' bit."
"Yes, well the next part of the plan requires your approval." John pretty much knew what Sherlock was going to say next, but it still hit him like a train. "You come to Denmark with me."
John took a deep breath. Wow. Denmark.
"I know I'm not supposed to be distracting you while you're studying, but if you're going to do that, you need to spend the next four years learning Danish on the side. Pretty much everyone speaks English there but you'd be better off knowing Danish if you want to get anywhere as a doctor. Maybe I can make you the royal physician—god knows we need a replacement; Mycroft nearly died because the current one almost didn't catch his illness in time. And you'll live in the palace with me, of course, and—"
John stopped Sherlock with his lips because he was way too overwhelmed to hear anything else.
When he separated, Sherlock was still talking. "—the plan isn't perfect, it probably has a few kinks, but give me a moment; I've only been on the case for—"
John kissed him again, but the off button wasn't working.
"—I know it's a lot to think about but at very first moment do you think—"
"Sherlock!" John finally said. "Shut up and kiss me!"
"But do you approve?" he asked, his voice desperate.
John gave Sherlock a slow smile. "Well, I've only known about the plan for eight seconds, but for now, yeah. I approve."
Sherlock smiled too and John kissed him and this time Sherlock kissed him back.
John separated again. "Oh, and I love you too."
"Yes, took you long enough to respond to that."
"You should've already known, genius."
"I did. But you know it's nice to—"
"You're pissing me off again. Maybe it's time for that monologue of yours."
"Or we could kiss some more," Sherlock suggested.
John pursed his lips for a moment thoughtfully. "Okay, kiss first, monologue after. You get two minutes."
Sherlock smiled, a real smile with teeth and mirth and Sherlock had never looked this happy before. "May need longer."
So this story was fucking ridiculous and if you got all the way through then you are a crazy person. My kind of crazy.
Thanks so much for reading. I adore reviews super a lot and I would love if you would take a tick to tell me what you thought. It would mean the world to me. Pretty please and thanks again!