There are no soppy romantic gestures, no blushing and embarassed looks, no “i love you”s when it comes to Jim and Sherlock. They can’t (and they don’t want to) be in an ordinary and typical relationship. That doesn’t mean that everything has to be a dangerous game with bombs and murders, an intellectual challenge with no place for emotions. The game plays a huge part in their relationship, of course, but it’s not always about it.
Sometimes they lay together on the couch. They don’t talk, Sherlock’s hand is in the fluffy dark halo that is Jim’s hair when he isn’t working. Jim traces with his fingers constellations and abstract figures on Sherlock’s skin. Other times Sherlock plays the violin for Jim. There are also days where they simply do their own stuff around each other, without really intereacting, just enjoying the mere presence of the other.
This is the only kind of “fluff” possible in this ship. They don’t need words or romantic gestures. Just being togther, in the company of the only person capable of understanding is enough. They don’t have to hide, change or act different to be accepted, they can finally be themself. For once, they are at peace. They can be happy, at least for a while.