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Ever since John was little, his parents would tell him tales of soulmates. They expressed the joy of finding one. When he was younger, he found this fascinating, and John had always been a bit of a hopeless romantic anyways.
Middle School was a drag. He had only dated a few girls (and it was a very loose definition of dating). They held hands sometimes and maybe offered kisses on the cheeks, but they never offered what John was looking for. He was looking for those silly words on his wrist. The ones that would mean that he didn’t have to look anymore.
Highschool started a revelation, because John realized that maybe he just wasn’t destined to be with a girl, so he started messing around with guys as well. He had some pleasant experiences, and he hung around with plenty of kind fellows, but just none of them were a match.
Eventually senior year came around. Looking around and seeing all the couples in the hallways, bound for each other, made him feel sick to the stomach. He wanted that. He wanted it so badly.
He knew that not everyone met their match in high school. There were tons of late bloomers, but he just couldn’t wait to be able to feel that. He wanted to know what it was like.
One day he was walking to one of his classes when he caught sight of yet another new couple, and looking at the way they interacted with each other, he could tell they were soulmates.
He sighed and walked into the classroom, just wanting to get home and wallow in his misery.
~~~~~
Many people (most people, in fact) thought that Sherlock Holmes was incapable of a soulmate, which is why he always hid his wrist under his coat sleeve. Many people assumed he hid it because there was nothing there. That was not the case.
He hid it because of the content of the message. It was complicated to explain to most people, because it wasn’t clear unless he actually showed them what the message was, but he never wanted to do that. He wanted that to be between him and his soulmate, if he ever found them.
Them. Him or her. Them, him, or her. He still didn’t know which one it would be yet, but he was honestly fine with anything.
It was much easier to let people assume that Sherlock was just not destined for a soulmate. He didn’t need to provide any explanation, so he just went along with it and pretended to not be interested. Besides, wasn’t there a benefit to this? By hiding it all the time, it would happen naturally, and no one could try to force it. That seemed like a win to Sherlock.
His best friend, John, on the other hand, was a different story. He used to go around in middle school talking to everyone and their sister just to see if one day it might happen. Sherlock felt sorry for him, but he also felt kind of relieved whenever John arrived back in their chemistry class everyday, still without a soulmate, and a hopeless look on his face.
On one hand, it meant that Sherlock wasn’t alone. There was still someone who hadn’t found their soulmate.
On a completely different note… he didn’t really want John to find his soulmate.
He knew it was petty. He knew he should want his best friend to find his true love (Sherlock despised that phrase. True love my arse.), but he couldn’t help but feel like that would make him the third wheel all the time. He wanted John to be his best friend, and with a soulmate taking up all of John’s time, how would Sherlock be able to do that? John was the only one who made him feel understood, and without him, he’d probably recluse into loneliness.
Sherlock smiled internally when John walked into the classroom, the same defeated look adorning his face as all the other days. He quickly masked his secret gladness with a look of sympathy. He had gotten quite good at that one, but only with John.
“Still no luck?” He asked as his best friend sat down at the desk beside him.
“Nope,” John replied casually. “I imagine you’ve already deduced that though, just as you’ve probably deduced what I’ve had for lunch today as well.”
Sherlock hummed quietly. “Turkey sandwich, most likely with lettuce judging from the way you’re hiding your teeth by barely opening your mouth to speak, and a bag of crisps because of the crumbs on your shirt.”
John laughed to himself as he smoothed out his shirt, brushing the crumbs off in the process. “You never guessed what I had to drink.”
“Strawberry milk,” Sherlock said simply.
“How’d you know that one?”
“Well you switch off every week. First it started with regular milk, when we first were in middle school and had lunch together. The next week it was strawberry. Next chocolate, and then it repeats. I’ve kept up, and this happens to be the second week of the current cycle.”
John looked at his friend with amazement. He had gotten used to Sherlock’s ways, but yet they still managed to impress him every time. “I thought you tended to remove trivial things like that from your ‘mind palace.”
Sherlock tilted his head to the side in almost bewilderment. As if what John just said was completely shocking. “But that’s not trivial John, because it has to do with you. I'll never forget anything about you because you’re important to me, John.”
John smiled warmly at Sherlock. He felt pity for the people who had never seen this side of him. Yet he also felt special, because he was the only one who ever truly had. “Thank you, Sherlock.”
Sherlock nodded. That was his silent ‘you’re welcome’ before class started.
~~~~~
John had turned in his test, so it was too late to go back and change it. He already knew he failed. He was too busy thinking about something.
He wondered about Sherlock’s wrist. Sherlock had told him multiple times when they had first met, there wasn’t anything there. He wasn’t destined for a soulmate. But John could never truly know because he never showed it off. It was always covered with a long sleeve.
If that was the case though, John felt indifferent. Was it easier? Not wasting your life away searching? But also, it might be sad to know that you’re missing out on something great like that (unless of course, Sherlock just wasn’t interested in any romantic relationships).
When he was thinking about this, his attention diverted to a piece of paper that Sherlock had just slipped onto John’s desk.
John took it and read the message. ‘How do you think you did?’ It read.
John picked up his pencil and immediately started writing back. “Awful. I hate chemistry. Or anything I have to study for.”
He passed it back. Sherlock read the note and frowned at his friend. They continued to pass notes back and forth talking about it.
S: ‘I’m sorry. Do you think something happened that made you fail?’
J: ‘Just the normal stuff. I’ve been thinking too much.’
S: ‘Perhaps if you didn’t spend so much time looking for your soulmate, you would pass?’
Sherlock waited and waited for the next note to come, but it didn’t. ‘Was that the wrong thing to say?’ He thought to himself. He knew soulmates were important to John. Maybe he shouldn’t have worded it that way.
When the bell rang, John walked out of the class without stopping to wait for Sherlock. “Yep,” Sherlock decided. “That was the wrong thing to say.” He sighed as he took the notes and shoved them in his pocket, walking out the door to hopefully find John wherever he ended up going.
~~~~~
The rest of the day went by, and Sherlock never managed to find John. He grew disheartened at the fact that he accidentally hurt John that bad. He was never good with emotions, and he still had a long way to go.
These thoughts are the ones that led him to take a turn before he got to his house. He took a turn into John’s street. He parked by his house and sat for a few minutes in his car, taking a deep breath. He had never been one for apologies, because most of the things he said felt justified, but he knew he needed to give one to John.
After enough time, he walked up to the door and knocked gently. The door opened.
“Oh hello Sherlock!” Said John’s mom. “John is in his room again. I imagine you’ll be able to talk to him though, he loves you of course.”
Sherlock felt flustered at the innocent comment. “Thank you Mrs. Watson, hopefully that’s the case. Can I come in?”
“Oh of course darling, make yourself at home. John seemed a bit upset coming home from school. I assume it’s the same old thing?” Sherlock nodded and smiled sadly. “Oh well. At least now that you’re here, you can cheer him up.”
‘Hopefully,’ Sherlock thought to himself.
He walked in and walked up the stairs, getting to John’s room. “John?” He called.
He heard a bit of shuffling behind the door. “Sherlock?” John said quietly. He probably intended for only him to hear it, but Sherlock heard it too.
“Could you open the door please?” A few steps later and the door unlocked. It opened to reveal a very sad looking John Watson. His eyes revealed that he might have actually been crying, and Sherlock felt his heart break.
“Lock the door behind you,” Said John as he stepped aside to let Sherlock walk in. “I don’t want my mom walking in on me like… this.” He chuckled sadly, sniffling a bit.
Sherlock followed his orders and locked the door behind him. John went and sat on his bed, and Sherlock went and sat beside him.
For awhile, they didn’t say anything. Sherlock knew John was thinking. He was thinking about himself and his soulmate and his endless search for them. He could see it in John’s eyes.
“I wanted to apologize- wait- John-,” he stopped abruptly when he realized John’s hands were covering his eyes, and he was quietly crying again. “No John don’t cry I’m so sorry,” he said. He scooted closer to his best friend and wrapped his arms around him.
John leaned into the embrace and rested his forehead against Sherlock’s chest. “It’s okay Sherlock, I know you didn’t mean any harm,” he spoke quietly, as if to preserve his voice. “I’m just upset.”
“Why? I mean-,” he sighed when he realized that was a stupid question. “I know why, but do you want to talk about it?”
“Sure,” John mumbled into Sherlock’s shirt, which sent shivers down Sherlock’s spine. “I just don’t want to wait. I hate waiting. I want to have someone for once. Someone all to myself.”
Sherlock hesitated before speaking. “You have me, John,” he spoke. John lifted his head and looked into Sherlock’s eyes. “I mean think about it. You’re so kind and so many people like you, you have lots of friends. I don’t have that John. I’ve only got you. I’m yours, even if only in a friendly way.”
John just cried even more and clutched Sherlock so tightly. “Oh Sherlock, thank you so much,” he sobbed. “I’m so lucky to have you.”
“How,” Sherlock asked, flabbergasted.
“You don’t even have a soulmate and yet you’re so considerate when it comes to me crying about it.” Sherlock’s heart clenched in his chest.
“Well, about that John…” Sherlock trailed off. John looked into his eyes, confused. Tears were still pricking the corners of his eyes. “I suppose I’ve never actually told you something…”
“You don’t mean…?” John asked, hesitantly.
Sherlock nodded slowly.
“People just assume that I’m incapable of loving…” he spoke. “So I go along with it. They wouldn’t believe me otherwise anyway.”
“Why don’t you just show them your wrist?” John asked.
Sherlock shrugged. “It’s not like I want that many people to see it. Nothing special.”
John was certain that it definitely was special. He knew it had to be.
“Sherlock,” he started. “Show me your wrist.”
Sherlock’s heart stopped and he lost all track of time. Butterflies- no not butterflies, those were too weak- bloody bats had flown into his stomach, because John Watson, his best friend, had just said the words on his wrist.
The words he had never shown anyone.
His eyes widened and John noticed immediately. “What is it, Sherlock? What’s wrong?”
Before Sherlock could respond, John had grabbed his wrist and pulled the sleeve up. He looked down and stared in awe at the message, his mouth parted slightly.
Written neatly on Sherlock’s wrist were the words, ‘Show me your wrist.’ Bloody ridiculous.
“John,” Sherlock whispered. “I think I belong to you.” John gasped at the words Sherlock just spoke, and glanced down at his own arm. He looked between his arm and Sherlock, up and down, up and down.
Hesitantly, Sherlock reached down and turned John’s wrist over. The words had never been visible to him before, but they were now. ‘I think I belong to you.’
His heart beated loudly as he looked back up at John. Tears were pricking his own eyes at this point, which was a rare occurrence.
“John,” he spoke just a little louder, overwhelmed with feelings he had not felt before. “John it’s me… it’s you. It’s- it’s-,” he couldn’t force the words out.
“It’s us,” John finished for him, breathing deeply and nodding as confirmation. He took Sherlock’s wrist and looked at it once more, as if to assure himself just once more. When he did, he held Sherlock’s hand within his own two hands. “We’re soulmates,” he said as he looked up.
“I can’t believe it,” Sherlock said, putting his loose hand on the side of John’s neck, to feel that he was actually there. “But now you see why I’ve hid that message for so long, right?”
John nodded and chuckled, “yes Sherlock, I get it completely now. I just can’t believe-,” he sighed, “I can’t believe I spent so much time searching when it was always you.” He sniffed back a few more tears, and smiled genuinely at his best friend.
And Sherlock smiled back.
John leaned forward and embraced his friend, or rather, soulmate, in a hug. He buried his face in Sherlock’s neck and breathed in his scent.
Sherlock hugged him back equally and pressed his lips to the top of John’s head, giving him a small kiss through his hair.
“Sherlock?” John spoke shyly.
“Yes John?” He asked.
John pulled away but kept his hands on Sherlock’s arms. “Does this make you my boyfriend, now?”
Sherlock smiled at the question. “I suppose it does only if you’re fine with it.” John smiled back. “Does this mean I can kiss you now?”
John answered that question by leaning in and pressing his lips soft against Sherlock’s.
It was awkward for Sherlock at first, because he had never kissed anyone before, but John led him through it and eventually he got the hang of it. The kiss filled Sherlock with a warmth he had been dying to feel for so long.
When they finally pulled away from each other, John smiled more than Sherlock had seen him ever smile.
“Can I tell you a secret, John?” Sherlock said, grabbing John’s hand and intertwining their fingers.
“Sure Sherlock. Whatever you want.”
“I was hoping it was you,” he said sweetly. John’s heart fluttered at that. “That’s why I said that before, to stop searching for your soulmate. Because I was scared when you found them you would stop hanging around me.”
“Aww Sherlock. Well, you don’t have to worry about that anymore.” John squeezed his hand. “I hoped it was you too, secretly. I always had a slight hope that maybe you did have something written there but you were only hiding it.”
Sherlock blushed and looked down. “Well you were right about that,” he said. “And I’m glad you were.”
~~~~~
The next day in school, Sherlock and John got confused looks in the hallway. As they walked down the hall, hand in hand, people whispered, but the two didn’t care. Not as long as they had each other.
Many people were shocked when they saw that Sherlock’s sleeves were drawn up to his elbows. They looked down and saw that he did in fact have something on his wrist.
After that, people started to realize that the two most odd friends in the school were actually soulmates all along.
During chemistry, John received a note on his desk.
‘How do you think you did on the math test? <3’
John smiled and wrote his answer. ‘I think it went bad. I’ve been thinking too much.’
Sherlock frowned at the response. ‘Thinking about what?’
John smirked. ‘About you.’
When Sherlock read the note, he grinned like the love struck teenager that he was. The sight made John smile as well.
The two of them would have a lot of time to think about each other in the future.