[ John, predictably, is the picture of quiet and still for the next couple of minutes until he finally stirs, pushes his eyes open, turns his head, turns it back and oh, Sherlock's still here. Okay.
After he passed out on him.
He swallows.
It's nice to keep his thought process shallow enough to just realize his dignity is no longer intact and blink up at him for a couple of seconds. That was embarrassing. That was really... pathetically embarrassing. Wasn't it? A twitch of ungodly relieved proportions is trying to push through into a grin in spite of all best efforts anyway, and that's-- fine. It's really fine. Someone could walk in and find them like this and god knows exactly what they might think about it, and that's fine too, it's actually kind of funny. Just like old times. He doesn't let it come to much, because he's not sure at what point giggling over apparently being a teenage girl might wind up turning into something much less tension-breaking and harmless, and now, right now, he wants to be in control of himself. No more fainting. No inappropriate laughter-come-hysterics, hopefully.
Logically, John knows he probably ought to be more upset by this. Betrayed, angry, confused, something, anything: he can't really seem to be bothered to yet. He will later, likely as not, for all that he might not mention it and eventually just explode into it, some giant painful thing that's everything except relieved and absolved and my best friend is alive and talking because he's afraid that if he stops for too long he'll blink and Sherlock won't be there.
He's always been a bit of a masochist, but John thinks he would at least like some time where Sherlock is just alive and he is just happy to have him alive. John swallows again, and ignores the fact that his eyes are wet, because he's always been pretty good at ignoring those things for himself. Tries to avoid a waver in his voice, which works well enough as he still sounds more dazed than anything. Dazed and very quiet and I would appreciate it if you actually are here right now, my good man. ]
All right?
[ Funny how gravely important that question feels once it's out. He can't seem to think of a more important question that's ever needed answering. ]
no subject
After he passed out on him.
He swallows.
It's nice to keep his thought process shallow enough to just realize his dignity is no longer intact and blink up at him for a couple of seconds. That was embarrassing. That was really... pathetically embarrassing. Wasn't it? A twitch of ungodly relieved proportions is trying to push through into a grin in spite of all best efforts anyway, and that's-- fine. It's really fine. Someone could walk in and find them like this and god knows exactly what they might think about it, and that's fine too, it's actually kind of funny. Just like old times. He doesn't let it come to much, because he's not sure at what point giggling over apparently being a teenage girl might wind up turning into something much less tension-breaking and harmless, and now, right now, he wants to be in control of himself. No more fainting. No inappropriate laughter-come-hysterics, hopefully.
Logically, John knows he probably ought to be more upset by this. Betrayed, angry, confused, something, anything: he can't really seem to be bothered to yet. He will later, likely as not, for all that he might not mention it and eventually just explode into it, some giant painful thing that's everything except relieved and absolved and my best friend is alive and talking because he's afraid that if he stops for too long he'll blink and Sherlock won't be there.
He's always been a bit of a masochist, but John thinks he would at least like some time where Sherlock is just alive and he is just happy to have him alive. John swallows again, and ignores the fact that his eyes are wet, because he's always been pretty good at ignoring those things for himself. Tries to avoid a waver in his voice, which works well enough as he still sounds more dazed than anything. Dazed and very quiet and I would appreciate it if you actually are here right now, my good man. ]
All right?
[ Funny how gravely important that question feels once it's out. He can't seem to think of a more important question that's ever needed answering. ]