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calaisreno · 5 months

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Yes and No

“Do you love her?”

It had taken them less than thirty minutes to go from the Rizla game to just asking each other random questions. The only celebrities that Sherlock knew were nineteenth-century chemists and twentieth-century criminals, which had more or less spoiled the game, and Sherlock had declared it pointless.

Then he suggested Yes or No, which at least required some deductive reasoning, and John agreed. But Sherlock was very good at this game, having deduced nearly everything about John in the first days of their acquaintance. Without asking any question, he deduced that John would choose violin, a human liver, Mrs Hudson’s nephew, and Sherlock’s old mouse-coloured dressing gown.

John gives up. “Fine. What don’t you know about me?”

Do you love her is a real question, he gathers— from the look on Sherlock’s face, which is serious and a bit sad.

The answer, which should be yes, of course I love her, instead comes out, “I’m marrying her.”

“People marry for reasons other than—“ Sherlock stops, appearing to realise he is going in a direction that can only lead to bad feelings. “Sorry, not a fair question. Better: When did you know that you loved her?”

He remembers grief. The intense pain of the days after he saw Sherlock die on the sidewalk in front of Barts. There are few details he can recall after that moment. It was as if the pain had receded just enough to let him breathe, and a kind of grey fog had descended. Pain, then sorrow.

Somewhere during the sorrow part, Mary had appeared. She may have been there sooner, but he hadn’t noticed. At some point he became aware of her bringing him coffee, talking to him, urging him to come out for lunch. Always there, cheerfully bullying him back into life. Eventually he noticed that he wasn’t quite as sad, and that she was rather pretty.

But the pain was still there, a tender spot in his memory, and most days he still felt defeated. Mary helped, though, and he thought that if she stayed, everything would be easier. He didn’t need to explain; she understood. He could keep the memories at bay when she was around.

By then he was having sex with her. He didn’t remember exactly how that had begun. Maybe it was a pity fuck one night when he’d had too much to drink. He woke up in her bed hungover, waiting for the darkness to descend like a weight on his chest, and she was there, making him a cup of tea, urging him to have some toast, sweetly solicitous and not accepting any excuses.

Does he love her?

Sherlock is still looking at him, the question in his eyes.

“She was there when I needed someone,” he says. “I just knew.”

He’d known that morning that he needed to move on, to leave what had happened in the past and live his life. And there she was.

“Your turn,” Sherlock says.

John thinks of all the things he’s ever wanted to know about Sherlock, but has never asked because it has never seemed a good time. Sherlock has a way of warding off questions with just a look. An armour that does not allow anyone in, not even John. He’s wondered about a lot of things, but asking has never been an option. Sherlock never has to ask; he simply deduces. John is terrible at deductions, as Sherlock often reminds him.

“Have you ever been in love?”

Sherlock doesn’t hesitate. “Yes. Twice.”

“That was a yes-no question, so I get follow-up. So, the first. Who was he?”

Sherlock smiles. “You’re assuming it was a man.”

“Wasn’t it? I thought… you’re… erm…”

“Gay? Yes, I am.”

“You loved a man,” John says. Obviously.

“Well, a boy. I was twelve. I suppose it wasn’t love so much as infatuation and hormones. His name was Victor. I never told him until I met him again at uni.” He gives John one of those looks that makes him feel like he is being x-rayed. “Have you ever kissed a man?”

“I’m not gay,” he says at once. “I mean, why would I kiss a man if I knew I wasn’t gay?”

“Follow-up question, then. When did you know you were not gay?”

John’s mouth may have been open for a bit. It’s an odd question. Everybody knows they’re straight until something happens and they know they’re not. Isn’t that the way it works? “I just knew. When did you know you were gay?”

“When I was twelve. I was at a stupid birthday party my mother made me attend, and we were playing Forfeit. I was asked a question I didn’t like to answer and took the forfeit. Up until then the penalties were stupid things like singing a song or doing a dance, but this time it was kissing a girl. The girl was willing, and I was curious, so I agreed. That was when I realised girls weren’t my cup of tea, so to speak. I wanted to kiss Victor.”

John says nothing, though it’s his turn. He remembers a similar party, a boy who wanted to kiss him, and feeling terrified that his parents would find out if he did. Harry had just come out, and he was trying very hard to make up for all of her shortcomings.

Sherlock asks, “How do you know you’re not gay if you’ve never kissed a man?”

“I’ve kissed lots of women,” he replies. “I don’t need to kiss a man to know I’m not gay.”

Sherlock shrugs. “I assumed that I was like everyone else, that some day I would meet the right girl, get married, and have children. That was how it was supposed to work, and I thought there was something wrong with me because I didn’t like girls that way. All my fantasies were about boys, but I thought I would eventually be attracted to girls as I got older. That kiss told me I would never love a woman.”

“You think I should kiss a man just to see if I’m a bit gay?” He laughs.

“It’s your forfeit, for not having an answer.”

“I’m not going to kiss some random bloke just because you—“

“Not a random bloke. Me. Kiss me.”

This is dangerous ground. Somewhere in his libido lies something that he’s thought about. Maybe he’s even fantasised about kissing a man. Having sex with a man. Just a lark, maybe. Don’t lots of men go through that? It doesn’t mean anything.

But, Sherlock. He lived with him for a year and a half, and they’d been friends. And he grieved when Sherlock died. Not grieved like a friend. He’d lost friends before, and this was nothing like those losses. Pain, darkness, unending regret. Even after Mary, some of that darkness remained. Moments when he remembered something Sherlock had said or done, a stab of pain. If it hadn’t been for Mary—

And it came to him. Mary was balm for his wounds. She brought him back from the edge. He is grateful to her. But gratitude isn’t love. Being in such pain for so long, and then a bit of light— that isn’t love, it’s relief. He’s seen patients in physical pain become almost giddy when given a dose of something that takes their agony away, not even enough to make them high. Relief feels like intoxication when pain has gone on so long.

If it hadn’t been for Mary, he would have understood what he’d only begun to see. She helped him, saved him even. But she was a distraction from the pain, not a cure.

He glances at Sherlock, who is pulling back, looking like he wishes he hadn’t just asked for a kiss. Maybe he’ll make a joke about their game, move them towards goodnight, goodbye, see you at the wedding.

“Yes,” he says. It’s an answer to everything— regret, grief, sorrow, love. It’s an apology for not seeing sooner, for the night at the Landmark, for his anger and cruel rejection of the man he has loved for years. “Kiss me.”

* * * * * * * * * *

Sherlock is right. The kiss tells John things he’s tried hard to forget. It tells him that has loved men before, but called it friendship, that he has wanted to touch men and kiss them, and called it lust, or fantasy, or a phase that all men go through. Women attract him too, and he grabbed onto heterosexuality like a life-raft because he was afraid of the alternative. His sister and his father, yelling. Harry thrown out of the house. His father, looking at him, saying not you too. Never you, my boy.

The kiss tells him that has already met the love of his life.

“I need to call Mary,” he says when they break away.

Sherlock looks sad. He nods. “Of course.”

“One more question,” John says. “Who was the second person you loved?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does,” he says. “I’m about to call my fiancee and break our engagement just days before the wedding because I’m in love with my best friend. So please, answer the question.”

Sherlock’s face does something John has never seen. It crumples and tears fill his eyes, and then he’s laughing and crying and not able to speak.

John kisses him again.

Author note: This is an old ficlet, from Trifles, posted here.

#my fics #johnlock #bbc sherlock #stag night #sign of three #fixit fic

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themackenzieboydchronicles · 1 year

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The Day After The Night Before - Mackrons Stag and Hen Night.

Mackron Fanfic.

"That was some party last night" said Nate as everyone sat round the table at Macks eating a McDonalds breakfast. "Where's Cinderella?" he said just as Mackenzie walked in with a massive bouquet of flowers.

"You're the nearest thing I've got to a mum Maisie and this is to thank you for being a wonderful mother to Lawrence" said Mack who was feeling sentimental. "They are in a box so you can take them on the train"

"Thank you Mackenzie. They are beautiful" said Maisie giving Mack hug.

"I miss my mum so much Nate and my little girl will grow up without a mother" Mack cried.

"Come here Mr. Softy" said Nate giving Mack a hug as he could see he was on the verge of tears. "You and Aaron love that baby so much and she's lucky to have both of you"

"I heard you coming in at 4am" laughed Maisie trying to cheer Mack up "Now tell me all about your night and needless to say this little one of yours is a dream to look after"

"The wedding dress went down well" said Lawrence trying not to laugh. "So well it just slipped off somehow"

"He did a strip tease for the ladies apparantly" said Robert.

"It was tastefully done I can assure you" said Mack.

"Well I thought you looked really sexy and I'm sorry I missed your erotic strip tease" said Aaron "But I had great fun undoing his bra and taking his garter off when we got home. Pity I didn't get to take the wedding dress off. It wasn't the same taking my mums dress off him somehow"

"Too much information Aaron" laughed Maisie.

"How did he end up wearing your mums dress Aaron?" Robert asked.

"Because Charity won his wedding dress in the raffle" laughed Aaron.

"Go on make a bigger fool out of me than I already am" said Mack "I'll get it dry cleaned and wear it on our wedding day" said Mack sarcastically "Didn't know you were into dressing up"

"Don't get upset Mack I'm only joking" said Aaron. "Come on cheer up" he said taking hold of Macks hand.

"You won't get that wedding dress back anyway. Apparantly Charity slept in it" said Nate. "And everyone thought you were a really good sport Mack"

"Did they?" Mack asked "I thought I made a complete idiot of myself"

"Well you're a great dancer Mack your moves really slap" said Robert "Better than many at my dance academy"

"Was I?" Mack said feeling a little better when everyone assured him it was a great night.

"Don't worry dad Bernice filmed it all" said Lawrence. "You'd better stay in her good books before she posts it and it goes viral"

"Please tell me that's not true" said Mack.

"Fraid so" said Aaron winking at Lawrence.

"Well now we've had breakfast and you've all made fun of me I'll drop you off at the station" said Mack. "Don't know what you think of me now Maisie"

"Come on Mack it was good fun by all accounts. I'm just glad that Jenny wasn't there to witness the shenanigans" laughed Maisie.

"Mum I missed all the fun it sounded absolutely great " said Jenny "Be sure to send me the video Nate"

"You pulled Nate?" Robert asked his sister as they got into Macks car.

"Yes" said Jenny "We are keeping in touch"

"Let's call in the pub and see mum" Aaron said after they'd dropped Lawrence and his family off at the station.

"What a night" said Bear "And that kilt showed off my figure wonderfully"

"And that silk thong showed off Macks figure wonderfully as well" said Ethan. "Amazed he got one to fit"

"Just keep your eyes off Ethan" said Aaron "That gorgeous specimen of a man is all mine"

"Unfortunately yes" Ethan replied. "You're a very lucky man Aaron and I look at Mackenzie in a totally different way now. He's definitely fitter than fit as in scorching"

"Watch out Aaron" said Bear "You've got a bit of competition there and Mack has what it takes in all the right places"

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Aaron.

"Well that silk thong he wore was a tad clingy" Bear replied "No wonder the ladies were going wild for him"

"Best Stag come hen party we've ever had in here" said Chas. "Even Kim Tate let her hair down and put 50 quid in the Turkey Earthquake Relief Fund. Its mounting up with the money we made at the raffle"

"God, she must have been drunk" said Cain "But it was a good night and Miss Scotland over there was the star of the show" he said pointing to Mack "And for once he kept it in his pants or should I say thong" Cain laughed.

"Well he was saved by us Stags coming to his rescue as Charity was determined to give it an airing" laughed Bear.

"Err. I am here you know" said Mack who was feeling embarrassed at all the comments.

"Pity we didn't get to do Blind Mans Bluff though" said Naomi "I was looking forward to it"

"Yes I had the pleasure of that when we got home" smiled Aaron. "Charity didn't get a look in fortunately"

"Don't rub it in" said Charity coming into the bar looking dishevelled "Hair of the dog for me"

"What a double gin or Mackenzie?" laughed Mary.

"I won't answer that in front of Aaron" said Charity "I didn't get to rip his thong off with my teeth. However if he wants me to try again later Im willing"

"Oh Please" said Nate "We've just had our breakfast"

"Well I did get to wear his wedding dress" said Charity.

"Yes and we had to get her out of it with a tin opener this morning" said Chas.

"Hey" said Charity "My figure is still as slim as it was on my wedding day"

"Question is which one" said Bear.

"Anyway it was a great hen do" said Charity. "Photo's in the Hotten Courier tomorrow"

"They'd better not be" said Mack.

"Could be worse you could be on the front cover of Hello Magazine" sniggered Charity.

"What's with all the sniggering" asked Aaron "We all know you've been after him for months"

"Yes and thank God he's had the sense to say no" Chas remarked.

"I wish you'd all stop taking the piss" said Mack "It's hurtful"

"Take no notice lad. You've got good taste in women. You just need to take a look at Lucy to see that" said Bear as Mack stormed out.

"Go after him Aaron" said Chas.

"I hope I didn't say something to upset him" said Bear "The last thing I want to do is hurt the lads feelings.

"It's not your fault Bear" said Moira "There's something eating away at him and I need to find out what"

"Is it Lucy?" Bear asked Moira when he was out of ear shot of the others.

Moira nodded "I think so she" answered.

"I've been thinking that for a while" said Bear "Such a lovely girl"

19.3.23.

#mackron fanfic

#mackenzie boyd #aaron dingle #mackron fanfic #stag night #bear wolf #moira dingle #chas dingle #charity dingle #ethan anderson #naomi anderson

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