AN- Okay, so this is something I don't do. Johnlock. But whatever, this is what happened because plot bunny.
And you may have it as a present, because today is my birthday and I'm feeling generous.

Sherlock Holmes and John Watson were too annoyingly special to use language in a conventional manner. So they invented their own, mutually and immediately understood, from the moment Sherlock asked Afghanistan or Iraq? which meant you should come live with me in my flat, because I think you are a lovely specimen.

I don't even know your name meant tell me what the name is of the man I just fell in love with, when it came from the lips of John Watson, thrown into this strange new world where words meant something completely different, yet were completely understood.

Sherlock and John didn't say I love you like normal people. Instead they said you're an idiot, and smiled, like it was a nice thing. (It was, because when they said it without a smile, like to Anderson and Lestrade, it actually meant they were an idiot.)

And they certainly didn't say I would shove you up against that wall and snog you senseless if it weren't for half the Yard being here and the dead body. Certainly not. Instead they just breathed brilliant in the same tone of voice. We can't giggle, it's a crime scene really meant we can't kiss, it's a crime scene, which was rather similar, and would often result in them giggling anyway to expel their stupid nervous energy and adrenaline fuelled excitement that couldn't be relieved by pressing their faces together until they forgot to breathe.

I'm never bored meant just that, Mycroft, being Mycroft, somehow saw through their words and only smiled thinly. And it was true. John wasn't bored, but it wasn't just for the reasons everyone else thought. Sure, there were crimes and murders and chases, but there was also heads in the fridge (sex in the bedroom), experiments (sex in the kitchen), and explosions (that were actually explosions).

And John only smirked at Mycroft as he said I'm never bored, and it was true in more ways than one.

When John told Irene adamantly that if anyone out there still cares, I'm not actually gay, what he was trying to say was so what if I'm gay, it's no one's business, and besides I am taken.

Mrs Hudson soon caught on, because when she came into their flat, she said am I interrupting anything? rather than I hope you boys are dressed, like she should have asked, since that one unfortunate incident. They began to suspect the rest of the world was in on it as well, what with 'confirmed bachelor John Watson' and everything.

So much was underneath those words, such innocent, innocuous words.

And yet they were so much more. Secrets that people didn't bother to look for were hidden inside them, because people didn't bother to look beneath the surface. (Sure, everyone suspected they were shagging, but no one could hear what they were really saying.)

Sometimes it was worse to know what lay beneath Sherlock's carefully constructed words. Like the phone call from the roof. Keep your eyes fixed on me. Please, will you do this for me? It broke John's heart, because really, Sherlock was telling him John please do this one last thing for me, just look at me please.

But he did.

And in his mind, goodbye John, turned into I love you John.

Because that's how they worked.

And in return, I owe you so much, meant I love you too, you prat.