Conversational

"I met a critic today."
"Pay no mind to them, Watson. Those sorts never have anything worthwhile to say."
"I hardly care what they have to say, usually. This one, however, was particularly slanderous."
"Oh?"
"The fool accused me of being in love with you. Ha! Simply because I admire my dear friend."
"...Mm."
"Ridiculous, isn't it?"
"Yes, quite."
"...Holmes?"
"Now where did I put -..."
"...Hm."

"Holmes! God's sake, man, you've ruined our rooms."
"It's only a mild bit of clutter, Watson. Mrs. Hudson will have it tidied in no time."
"Perhaps you could be more considerate and limit your mess in the first place! Why, my Mary -"
"Oh yes, Mary! Dear sweet feminine Mary -..."
"...Holmes..."
"...Nevermind me, Watson, it's simply - Where's my syringe..."
"Holmes."
"Forget it, dear boy."
"You never liked my Mary."
"Please, old fellow, leave it."
"Only if you leave that syringe."
"Watson."

The pair settle into a silent staring match, each reading the other. Watson, searching for the root of this. Holmes, searching for the moment of revelation. Watson is not stupid, and the clues are all laid quite neatly before him. It's only a matter of time, now. When finally they break away, Holmes is sure. Watson knows. This is the end.

The next day, Holmes awakes to silence in their rooms. He remains in his bed for the entirety of the day. When night falls, it is still just as silent.

"Holmes!"
"Nngh -...Watson? No, go, you shouldn't be here."
"Holmes you've been shot."
"Excellent deduction old boy - ah..."
"Let me get a look at it."
"Watson don't touch -"
Watson silently begins removing the fabric obscuring Holmes's wound, doctor's hands steady and gentle.
"...Why have you come?"
"Mrs. Hudson sent for me. Said you were in a state."
"I -..."
"..."
"I would have been fine."
"What, shot and bleeding out on our settee? Wouldn't have called for any doctor at all, I'm sure, you pigheaded fool."
"...Our?"
"I am still contracted to live here."
"You've been gone."
"Yes. Well."
"...I could go, then."
"Don't be absurd."
"...Watson?"
"I only needed some air."
"Three weeks of it."
"It was a three-weeks-of-air problem."
"...Far more than that, I'm sure. Only I've gone and interrupted it with my pigheaded foolishness."
"Yes, well. Now someone will have to be here and care for you, and I'll not force that on Mrs. Hudson."
"I'll not force it on you either."
"Nonsense. I am a doctor. I have treated all sorts."
"Perhaps you should simply leave me to fate's whims."
"Holmes you are -...my friend. I'll not let you die simply because -...you may be a little -..."
"Twisted."
"Now you listen here, that's my friend you're talking about."
"Ha - ah...Oh, Watson. What ever would I do without you?"

"Holmes?"
"Mm?"
"You needn't keep such a distance from me."
"Well I'm hardly going to crowd you, old man."
"You've consistently chosen to stay in the opposite end of the room since I returned. That's far more than not crowding me."
"Well. Surely there's a further distance required to avoid crowding by me, hm?"
"Holmes, you are still the same man I've been sharing rooms with since we met."
"Perhaps, but now there is something more about me, isn't there."
"It's always been there, I suspect. Hasn't it?"
"..."
"Mm, so, my knowing it doesn't change you."
"But it should, perhaps, change your perception of me. Should it not?"
"I don't see why it should. You are my friend. You are a - a good man. You do what's right by...the general populace."
"And yet, there. Hesitation in your declarations."
"I am sorry, old fellow. It -...I am still reconciling. It was deeply ingrained. Now, to know a shining example of the kind of man who had always been described to me as a villain...Perhaps I should never have allowed such a stereotype to settle so deeply into my perceptions."
"...Well. I am flattered to trigger an opening of your mind, dear fellow."
"Indeed. Now, please, stop avoiding your favorite seat simply on my behalf."

"...Ah."
"Hm. I had assumed - Why would they rent out a room to two men, which wasn't suitable for two men?"
"Well, it's perfectly suitable I suppose. Certainly there is only one bed but it is a rather large one. We've shared tighter spaces before, anyhow."
"Yes, however -..."
"Hm? Oh, Holmes, you needn't worry so much. I am not afraid of you."
"Hmh."
"You think that I should be?"
"Not at all, old boy."
"Then I shan't be."
"It's moot, anyhow. I'll be too busy working on the case to use the bed at all."
"Holmes, you can't push yourself so harshly. This is why we end up on holiday in the countryside so often. You really need to take better care of yourself."
"Nonsense. Now, here's a fine armchair I can sit and think in at night if I'm in the room at all."
"Fine, but if I find you asleep in it I will haul you to the bed."
"Mh..."

"Now here, get away! Go on!...Holmes?"
"Ah...Watson."
"What are you doing there?"
"Well. It had seemed a fair place for some rest, until those youths appeared."
"And why were they assaulting you?"
"Simply because I seemed an easy target, I suppose."
"Because you were sleeping on the ground."
"Yes. Well, I had underestimated my exhaustion and simply couldn't make it up to the room."
"Holmes, there's a depression here."
"..."
"...You've been sleeping here."
"Ah...Your skill at deduction is coming along quite nicely, then."
"Holmes, get inside."
...

"Holmes, this is nonsense. I am not afraid of you. Come away from that armchair, the bed is plenty suitable."
"Watson. I simply refuse to put you in that position. What I am is a danger to you and I will not subject you to it when it can be avoided."
"What you are is my friend. Holmes - You are not some lust-driven fiend, set on stealing my decency from me. Far opposite, it would seem, set on preserving it at the cost of your own comfort and even safety. You are not a monster. You are simply a man, in love. Why should love be so wrong in an unfamiliar shape? It is still love. I have loved. I loved my Mary dearly - yes, I know now that it must have hurt you, and I'm sorry that it did, though I will never be sorry for what I shared with her. Now. Quit this foolishness, dear boy, and come lie down."

When they wake in the morning, they are tangled together. Holmes, ever in search of human comfort, and Watson ever in search of a place to put all of his care. They fit quite well together, Holmes's head on his doctor's chest, Watson's sturdy arms wound around the detective's shoulders.

Holmes startles, attempts to scramble away, but Watson's grip is sure, and tightens to pull him closer, just for a moment before releasing him. A silent signal that it's fine. Holmes need not regret anything. Still, Holmes does scramble away, and the day goes on in uncertain silence, glances flicked at Watson, distance kept.

In the evening, they find themselves once again facing the single bed in their rented room. The case is almost over, Holmes can feel it. It would have been long over by now if not for the distraction of dancing around his disgusting inclinations toward his dear friend.

His dear friend, who has settled comfortably once more between the sheets, and is now watching Holmes expectantly. Watson lifts a hand in invitation, and Holmes fidgets nervously with his hands.

"Come now, Holmes. Surely we've gotten past all this by now."
"Watson."
"Now come lie down. We did not combust in holy flame last night, did we?"
"Pah."
"Come on. There, now. Do you see? I trust you. We can lie comfortably together and you'll not harm me. And why would you harm me anyway? It would be foolish to harm someone you care so deeply about. There's not even any reason I should be afraid."
"Watson. Why are you so...?"
"Well. Perhaps now that I realize that love isn't any more dangerous in any particular shape..."
"Watson!"
"Now hush, dear fellow."
"I knew it! I shouldn't have stayed. I shouldn't have let you -"
"Hush, Holmes. I am a grown man. I am capable of making my own choices."
"No, Watson, I've ruined you, now - Let go of me, at once. Watson please let me go."
"I'm hardly ruined. Stay, Holmes. Oh you stubborn fool, calm yourself."
"Mh!...Watson?"
"There. Now, see. Relax."
"...You've kissed me..."
"Ah, the Great Sherlock Holmes solves yet another impossible puzzle."
"...Watson, this is dangerous."
"This is love."
"If you let me love you -"
"Then I will be loved."
"I -"
"Sleep, now, Sherlock. It's late and I'm tired."
"...Goodnight...John. I -...I love you."
"Mmm. And I love you too, dear man."