Is that what love is?
"I understand that you're upset when I go off on my own, John. I simply can't ever understand why you're upset."
"Oh my God, it's because I love you, you insufferable cock."
"...Do you?"
"...Well - Er. Yes. You, uh. You are my best friend."
"...Mmno, but that's not what you mean though is it."
"Christ. I - Look, Sherlock, forget it. It won't get in the way of anything. Hasn't yet."
"You've felt this way for some time, then."
"Well -...Yes. Yes, I have."
"And...What way is that? That you feel."
"Ah, hell. That -... That's hard to explain."
"Try."
"Ugh - Of course, fine. I'll try."
"..."
"..."
"..."
"...Ok. I - Nope. Ahem. Alright. Look. I want you to be happy. I -...Sometimes you smile at me and I - I want - Christ..."
"Do take your time, John."
"Shut up. Arse."
"You're the writer, here."
"Hmh. Alright. Ok, yeah. When you smile at me, I want that to mean that your heart is singing as loudly as mine is. I want that to mean that in that moment, you can't remember having ever felt anything less than that. I want you to always feel that way.
I want you happy, and also safe, and warm. I want you to feel my heat at your back and know that nothing can ever harm you, and if anything does, it won't be long for this world. I will ruin whatever hurts you, Sherlock. I would set the world ablaze just so that you could be safe and warm.
I want - I want you here, in my arms, curled on the sofa maybe, lights down low, fire in the fireplace, your atrocious, hideous blanket draped over the two of us, and the only sound in the room is you, not snoring -"
"I don't snore."
"I said not snoring, you git."
"Mh."
"Not snoring. Snuffling. Breaths puffing against my chest, up my throat, making me just a little too warm but I wouldn't be anywhere else but there with you, Sherlock. I - Yes. I love you, Sherlock Holmes."
"...Hm."
"...Hm?"
"Is that what love is?"
"It's what my love is."
"And what about the rest?"
"The...rest?"
"Dates. Kissing...Sex."
"Oh - Ah. Well. No. I mean. Not no, but it's unnecessary. You know? I mean, I didn't mention any of that, anyway, did I."
"Hmh."
"I - Yes, it - I do like those things. Can't deny that. Of course. But...If that's not what you want, then - Sherlock, I have everything I want just as we are."
"Except for cuddling on the sofa."
"Hfh - Well - Yeah, except that, but. I mean. That's just - That's a warm fantasy, doesn't have to be anything real. You don't have to -..."
"Mm...John."
"Yes."
"You're sure that's love?"
"Well. Like I said. It's what my love is."
"...I think it's what my love is, too."
"...Sher?"
"I love you too, John Watson."