"Yes," Holmes says, and with it he can feel every himself fill head-to-foot with relief. He takes Watson's hand but doesn't start to the bedroom yet; instead he wraps Watson into a hug, nestles into the crook of his neck, and breathes, needing to smell him, needing to feel him, needing to know that he's been accepted back into this.

"Yes, please. I love you." He hadn't even planned to say it; it slips out as he draws away, drunk on Watson, and he colors, grateful for the darkness of the room.