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People come out in stages. First you come out to yourself, then when you’re ready you’re nearest and dearest, maybe a few close colleagues along the way. People spend their whole lives coming out, because unless you’re wearing glitter and a pride flag nobody notices, John Watson knew this.
John first came out to himself one wet but warm July evening when he was 14 years old. He’d just been to the cinema for the first time on his own. He and his friend had saved their pocket money and gone to the local screen. John doesn’t remember what they saw. What he does remember was the hero, his tall, lean figure, charming smile and witty report. John remembers this very well. He ran home, shouting a good bye to his, at this point confused, friend and ignored his mother’s questions about his evening. He sat on his bed, tuning out Harry’s loud, thumping music and just breathed. One deep breath leading to another and another until finally he was calm enough to think. Boys didn’t like boys. Boys liked girls is flowery dresses and cute bows in their hair. John liked girls, John didn’t like boys. Maybe he liked both?
The second time John came out he was 15 and it was to his sister. Harry was different to anybody else John knew. She reminded him of those people he saw in Camden when they went on a school trip to the zoo. They were loud, proud and out. They weren’t afraid to be who they were and the amount of time John had had to shield his eyes from Harry with her hand down a girls pants, neither was she. So John went to Harry. He turned off her music and sat down on her bed. For a while he didn’t speak and Harry must have known he was scared because she didn’t ask. Eventually he said to her, ‘you know David Bowie?’, she said ‘of course’. He took a deep breathe, ‘well I heard from a girl at school that he likes boys even though he’s married.’. Harry considered this for a moment then said, ‘yes, he’s allowed to do that John.’ ‘Am I allowed to do that Harry?’ he asked his voice shaking slightly as he took in big gulps of air. ‘Of course you are’ she stroked his arm, ‘that’s perfectly normal.’
The third time John came out he was 16 and it was to his best friend. Jack Bowler was tall, his deep voice reverberated to John’s core and his tight grip on John’s hand when he pulled him up of the rugby pitch made John’s knees weak. Jack was casual, good for a laugh and so when he told John that he’d been fucking a boy called Toby for 3 months now, John laughed. Jack glared and said ‘no really’. John stared and said ‘you’re queer?’ and in his excitement before Jack could say anything else he shouted ‘me too’. Jack laughed and said ‘I knew you were checking the captain out before training’, John shoved him and told him to shut it.
The fourth time John came out he was 18 and it didn’t go too well. The cool breeze of an Indian summer swept through the Watson household. It was the night before John went to uni, he was all packed and ready to move to Central London having earned a place at Barts and The London School of Medicine and Dentistry. His mother decided they’d have a family meal to wish him farewell. The main topic of conversation was Harry’s new nose ring that glinted in the light. John secretly thought it was very cool, his mother did not. After a while the focus shifted to him and if his dad was here he’d be so proud of him, how maybe he’d get a proper girlfriend at university, and that he was so handsome and smart and a real catch. Harry snorted and said ‘yeah or a boyfriend’. The table went quiet and Harry looked horrified. John refused to look up from his roast chicken, trying not to hear his mother asking what Harry meant. Eventually when Harry was stuttering trying to cover up her mistake and his mother was beginning to go slightly red in the face John said, ‘I like both’. He mother let out a shrill laugh and said ‘what they teach kids at school these days, you can’t like both John. It’s one or the other.’
John moved away the next day and even though he knew Harry hadn’t meant it, he’d never quite forgive her.
When John was in the army he didn’t have to come out. It was a dangerous time, living everyday as your last that everything slid. John slept with men and women of all ages and creeds on three different continents and nobody said anything. However, when John met and fell for James Sholto things changed.
Fiercely independent Sholto had marched into the med bay at midnight, back ramrod straight; hand bundled in a dripping cloth. John looked up from his medical journal and his heart skipped a beat. Sholto has been sorting something in the mess tent when he’d burnt his hand on the cooker. John treated his injury with care, making light conversation and teasing the major about the dangers of cooking in a war zone. The major took offense to that, trying to yank his hand away hissing in pain. John apologised and told him that he wouldn’t be able to use the hand for a few weeks and to come and see him every two days to change the dressing.
The next day John heard a private tell Sholto that he’d find someone to help him get off seeing as he couldn’t use his hand. John’s stomach did somersaults.
When Sholto arrived to have his dressing changed, John made polite conversation. When the major only gave clipped responses John decided to take a risk and mention an ex fling. A male ex fling. The major laughed and said ‘you don’t need to be subtle about it John, we all know you’re not straight’. John shifted uncomfortably and trying to appear confident said ‘well what about you?’. Sholto looked at him for a moment and said ‘why are you asking?’ John replied, ‘well I could be the one to help you get off seeing as your hand is injured.’
John fell in love for the first time with James Sholto. Their ‘secret’ affair was the talk of the base, though everybody could see how John felt. The ‘poor bastard’ they called him because they couldn’t see that James felt the same. When James was injured and invalided home John decided that his luck with men was doomed, he was always dramatic, and decided he would stick to women.
So it wasn’t until after his marriage to Mary had turned sour and she and ‘their’ baby had disappeared that John let himself feel for men again. He has always found Sherlock attractive; he only had to think back to their first trip to Angelo’s to know how long he’d fancied him. How long he’d loved him was a different matter entirely. The look of pure, unabashed joy on Sherlock’s face when John asked to come back to Baker Street and confirmed in John’s head what his heart already knew. He loved this man.
The two hundredth and sixty-fourth time John Watson came out it was the happiest time of his life. Sherlock had cried admitting that he had loved John for six years and that he knew John would never feel the same. John had cried admitting that he also loved Sherlock and that he, John Watson, was a bisexual man.
People come out in stages. First you come out to yourself, then when you’re ready you’re nearest and dearest, maybe a few close colleagues along the way. People spend their whole lives coming out, because unless you’re wearing glitter and a pride flag nobody notices, Sherlock Holmes knew this.
Sherlock first came out to himself when he was 10 years old. Sat in the local library on a wet November Saturday Sherlock was reading a biography on Oscar Wilde. Sherlock had always known that boys could like boys and girls could like girls, his own mother telling him that whilst she loved his father she had in the past also loved women. It hadn’t struck Sherlock until that point that maybe he liked boys too.
Sherlock left the library and walked home with his mother. He asked her and said ‘Mummy can I like just boys?’ his mother smiled and said ‘yes love, whatever you feel’. That was the second time Sherlock came out.
On the day of his 11th birthday party, a big family do in the local village hall, Mycroft brought his girlfriend Alex. When Sherlock went to greet Alex, because if they were important to Mycroft they were important to Sherlock, he learnt that sometimes Alex was Mycroft’s girlfriend and sometimes Alex was his boyfriend. Sherlock thought about this for a moment and then said ‘well so long as you don’t make him boring I don’t care’. Sherlock then said ‘I don’t have a boyfriend yet but maybe I’ll get one now I’m all grown up.’ Mycroft laughed at this and said ‘anybody would be lucky to have you brother mine.’
When Sherlock turned 18 he came out to a man who gave him cocaine to go down on his knees. Sherlock came out to his whole chemistry class at university when Sebastian accused him of being a robot for rejecting his advances. Sherlock shouted that just because he was gay didn’t mean he’d sleep with any man that approached him. Sherlock came out to a lot of people when he was 18.
At the age of 26 Sherlock came out to a tired detective inspector who just wanted to go home. He’d arrested Sherlock for trespassing on a crime scene and Sherlock had offered to save him from his loveless marriage by sleeping with him where his wife would not, providing of course he didn’t end up in a cell. Lestrade pointed out that in fact it was his husband that would not sleep with him, Sherlock would not remember this, all he would remember was the pleasure of the cocaine rushing through his system.
Sherlock came out to John Watson aged 30 at a small table in Angelo’s, though John did not recognise it as such. By this time everybody who was important in his life knew that Sherlock was gay so it made sense for John to know too. Sherlock had fallen in love instantly with John Watson though he believed he’d never have a chance.
Sherlock came out to John again aged 36 in their home at Baker Street. This time John came out to him too.