He called me love.
And that seemed to be the one word that Sherlock heard after their morning together. When he finally joined John in Rosie’s room, the blond already had the baby laid out on the changing table. Her diaper was just removed. John looked up at Sherlock and smiled. He reached his hand toward the baby’s items and said, “Could you get me a wipe and nappy, love?”
There it was again. John called him that word. He called him love. For a moment, he nearly forgot that John asked him to get something. He went and got the items and handed them over to John, then retreated to leaning on the doorway.
Sherlock rested his head on the wood, suddenly feeling drunk with affection for John.
The second time, they were in the living room, Rosie was demolishing her stuffed bee while watching the television. Sherlock was sat on the couch while John fixed them breakfast. John’s specialty was eggs with beans on toast. Sometimes, he would sneak a few slices of ham from Mrs. Hudson while she was away and then cook it for their meal. Sherlock never much cared for breakfast, but with John, he would gladly sit and share a meal. He looked into the kitchen to see his lover standing over the stove humming some tune in his head. Sherlock smirked at how adorable he found the man to be at times. Rosie was tugging at his pant leg, he looked down and saw the blue-eyed baby smiling up at him with her fist in her mouth.
“Oh, did you finally grow bored of mutilating that poor bee?”
He looked over at the once fluffy bee and sighed. It was a gift for her and this was how she treated it. He placed her on his lap and watched the children’s show. He let her grab his ring finger and briefly, Sherlock imagined a gold band on it. He shook his head. John said he loved him, not that he wanted to marry him. For everything that’s happened, John may not be too keen on the thought of remarrying.
“Time to eat, love.” John’s smile made Sherlock dizzy. How could such a mouth show this much emotion?
I am his love
Sherlock looked down at Rosie and whispered, “I am his love, Rosie.” To which the infant just continued to suck on her fist. He seated himself at the table after placing Rosie in her special chair directly in front of the television. John was waiting for him. They shared a glance before digging in. While they ate, Sherlock felt John’s leg brush against his. Maybe it was an accident, Sherlock thought. But then he felt the leg again. He blushed and tried to hide his face from the chuckling man across the table.
“What’s the matter? Do you want me to stop?”
Sherlock reacted faster than he could think and shook his head. John put his fork down and sat back, trying to get a good look at Sherlock’s face. Sherlock resisted every urge he had to look John in his eyes and kept eating.
“You’re gorgeous, you know that?”
Sherlock shrugged cursing his blushing cheeks. “I’ve been told.”
“Oh yeah? By who?”
Sherlock’s smile turned smug when he saw John’s cheeks matching his own. Now they matched. John grinned at him.
The third time was when they took to lounging together on the sofa while Rosie dominated whatever they had on the television. John tried to change to the news for a moment and Rosie started shrieking whenever anything other than the Teletubbies on the screen. So, there they were, stuck watching the Teletubbies. John was indifferent to it, Sherlock, was horrified at how children found such frightening creatures entertaining.
John was lying in between Sherlock’s legs, with his head resting on his chest. Sherlock had his arms wrapped around John’s so that his hands were laying on his chest. John’s hands were rubbing Sherlock’s arms slowly, it was very ticklish.
“Care for tea, love?”
He’s in love with me.
“Yes, I do.”
John got up to fix their cups and Sherlock was left to think about John calling him that word so many times in one day.
That night, they were both in Rosie’s room trying to find ways to coax her to sleep. Sherlock was rubbing her stomach and shushing her, meanwhile John tried to give her warm milk. When she finally fell asleep, they stood over her crib and watched her little chest rise and fall softly. John yawned and said, “Are you ready for bed?”
Sherlock nodded. “Just give me a moment to brush my teeth.”
John rose on his tippy toes to kiss Sherlock’s lips. “I’ll see you in bed, love.”
After John walked out the room, only one thing crossed his mind.
I love him.
There will be plenty more times of John calling Sherlock “love” so don’t worry guys!
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