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The first time they had met on Valentine’s Day, they were still enemies, arch-nemesis to each other and playing dangerous games to eliminate one another. It was a clandestine meeting over a crime Jim had committed and Sherlock was trying to solve. They had put a gun to each other’s heads, insulted the hell out of each other and then parted ways with enough sarcasm thrown to cover the entire volume of Encyclopedia Britannica. The next time they met on V day, they had slowly settled down to being the best of enemies. Frenemies, as they called it, which meant when nights got lonely Jim called Sherlock and asked him to talk about his latest chemistry experiments (so he could fall asleep out of boredom) and when Sherlock was bored he could actually text Jim and request him for a ‘case’. They still chased each other in circles but by then they knew they wouldn’t really hurt each other. Two Valentine’s days passed thereafter and they had not met or interacted. How could they, when both men playing dead to each other. Neither of them had thought they’d miss the other so much but when the days turned to weeks and the weeks to months, Jim had shed an odd tear remembering Sherlock’s oddities and eccentricities while Sherlock had spent many sleepless nights wondering how life would have been if Jim was right there, next to him, in his arms. On those V-days, they had chosen to wear black as a sign of mourning, as a symbol of the end of what could have been a great ‘friendship’. The next year, coincidentally it was Valentine’s Day when they reunited (though they had suspected much earlier that neither of them were dead). Neither Sherlock nor Jim had anticipated what would happen next, nor had they planned anything for the meeting, instead leaving it to chance and moment. As it happened thereafter, they had both seized both chance and moment and jumped each other’s bones. They had torn clothes off of each other, clawed and bit into each other’s flesh, basically acted as animals that had been starving for a long, long time. It had ended with both passing out from exhaustion. When they were awake, they had gone for it again and finally settled down to talk. “Are we a couple now?” Jim had asked, lying with his head on Sherlock’s belly and perpendicular to the detective’s long, lean body. Sherlock had kept puffing on the cigarette he was smoking and answered a few seconds later, “Does fucking each other’s brains out make us a couple or…..this does?” “This……means?” “Here, lying together, me smoking in bed, you being naked and comfortable around me, having this chat…..well, everything.” “Sherly, are you ready to be my boyfriend or not? Don’t be boring now, answering my questions with your questions.” “Yes, I am ready.” “Then I believe we are a couple. I have left that life of crime, you don’t live with your pet anymore, it’s perfect. We are and can be a couple. Let’s give it a shot.” Sherlock had reacted favorably and with enthusiasm and they had planned on splitting their time between each other’s houses, working on cases together, going to recitals and science conventions together, even a few pranks on Mycroft (their common enemy). But his spirits dropped when Jim also insisted that from now on they had to give each other Birthday, Christmas and Valentine’s Day gifts. “I love receiving gifts,” Jim had even given the broad hint to his new mate, “Especially V-Day. On other special days I get gifts from others too but this day, this one is special, and only you’re going to give me a gift. I am already so excited about 14th Feb, next year!” *** The next year Jim gives Sherlock a home cooked V-night dinner with champagne and gourmet dessert. Sherlock gifts Jim a step-ladder. When Jim gives him a quizzical glare, Sherlock explains that he doesn’t want Jim to ‘wait for him’ or ‘struggle in his absence’ if he needs to access a jar from the top shelf. The quizzical glare turns to a death glare and Sherlock is denied sex that night. But he still doesn’t get it and blames it on Jim’s punishing schedule at work. A year later, on the same day, Jim buys Sherlock a new, advanced, personalized microscope for his lab and sets up his home theater room with, popcorn, beer and Sherlock’s all-time favorite film ‘The Towering Inferno’. Sherlock, who’s been traveling for the past two weeks, arrives disheveled from Bucharest, empty handed. When Jim complains, he finds Sherlock naked in bed with a pink bow around his cock. “Um….gift,” Sherlock says by means of explanation. Jim wants to refuse but ends up riding it. He had missed it a lot, he admits to that quietly. The year after Jim books them a relaxing day at a spa and they get their services together, from foot and head massage to relaxing aromatherapy full body massage to sauna, soak in petal bath and the final shower. When they reach home both are hungry. Jim is still waiting for his gift. “It better not be an offer of sex or a new position,” he growls at his boyfriend who assures him it’s not that. He gets a pepperoni and extra cheese pizza with one slice removed strategically to resemble a crooked heart. On the box is written a message in Sherlock’s scrawling handwriting. ‘Happy Valentine’s Ay’ with a smaller inscription beneath it stating ‘Since you refused the D’. The next year Sherlock forgets the day. He apologizes profusely later. The year after that he remembers, but at the last moment. Unfortunately a case lands up and they spend time solving it together rather than celebrate V-day. Jim buys Sherlock a belated gift but Sherlock buys him nothing. Another year passes and while Jim and Sherlock are blissfully happy together, V-day becomes a ‘word’ for them and a dismissive ‘It’s only a way for Hallmark and other e-commerce companies to make money’. This is also the first year since they started dating, when Jim does not buy anything for Sherlock either. *** The next year even Jim doesn’t remember Valentine’s Day. He does get reminded of it now and then when he sees an ad on the net or on television but he has stopped paying attention. On 13th February afternoon, he gets a text from Sherlock saying the detective has to leave for Ukraine that evening to chase and bring down a dangerous double agent of MI6, a rogue by now. Jim gives him some advice and information through his ‘old sources’ and Sherlock thanks him for it. He also promises to be back as soon as he can. Jim wishes him happy journey and does not offer to come over and see him off at the airport. For a moment he rues the end of the ‘initial rosy days of their relationship’ when they were clingier, whinier about lack of time together and got sentimental about days like 14th February. But that moment passes soon and he becomes a ‘formal and suave businessman’, going back into a conference call again. That night Jim falls asleep on the couch. Without Sherlock around he often does that because, while he would never admit it, he feels that the bed seems too big and too cold unless his tall, imposing Sherlylocks is lying on it. He dreams of a room filled with flickering candles and LED-light filled colorful balloons, the iridescent illumination complemented by the whiff of fresh orchids and roses, his favorite flowers, kept in bunches everywhere. He feels a fluffy, snowy, plush blanket on his legs, monogrammed with his name, a dream he had since childhood. He smells fresh strawberries, cheesecake, garlic and pepper infused grilled lobster, hears the clink of champagne flutes and feels…… Sherlock kissing him on his forehead. He wakes up.
Sherlock is right there, kissing him tenderly on his forehead. ‘Happy Valentine’s Day’, he says.
Jim gasps and looks around. He feels he’s still dreaming. The scenario from his dream has transported itself to the real world. The soft, plush blanket that covers him smells new. Sherlock has bought it for him. There are candles, balloons and flowers, the room looks and smells exactly like he had been dreaming about. He can see the open plan kitchen and spots dinner, champagne and dessert waiting for them right there at the dining table. Sherlock did all this??? “How?” Is his only reaction, a look of bewilderment written large all over his just-woken face. “The seven year itch,” Sherlock says as he gently lifts Jim’s head and sits down, putting his head back on his lap this time, “I was reading about it last month and suddenly realized we have been partners for a long time now, exactly seven years since we hooked up. It’s an established relationship, a live-in relationship, we are as good as married. But then…..we are not really married. Not that I don’t want to but I know neither of us are the ‘marrying’ kind. So the next best thing to do is……” He stops, hesitates, as if trying to find the right words to describe his feelings and desires. Jim is feeling a flutter in both is cock and heart and he eagerly waits for Sherlock to continue. “I thought why not at least give you this,” Sherlock says and magically produces a set of two boxes from under one cushion, “I call them the ‘I love you very much rings’ and ‘I promise to be with you for as long as I shall live bracelets.’ See, if you like them too.” Jim opens the boxes. Sherlock has bought a gold ring for him and a companion ring for himself and a set of two identical leather and platinum bracelets, so they can both wear the two similar pieces of jewelry. The items are beautiful, elegant, aesthetic, charming. “I would have lauded your choice but then I also am one of them,” he says in a half-jovial manner while emotions well up inside him, “So I always knew you had a pretty good choice.” “I’m glad you liked it. Let’s have dinner?” “Yeah. But I can’t believe you really did all this.” “Why?” “You’re such a dick about such things.” “Not a dick my darling Jimbo, I am practical. All those were practical, useful, utilitarian gifts.” “Then what happened this year?” Jim asked as he gets up, Sherlock’s arm wrapped securely and possessively around him. His finger looks so good with the ring on, the bracelet makes him feel happier, sexier. “Taking a break from being practical,” Sherlock replies, then sheepishly adds, “When you also stopped caring it sort of gave me that itch…..an unpleasant itch. It didn’t feel good to be ignored on Valentine’s Day.” Jim stand on tippy toes and asks in a wicked whisper, putting his arms around Sherlock’s neck, “Can dinner wait for an hour or so?” “Why?” “Because I have an itch too…..deep inside me and not an unpleasant one though!” Sherlock guffaws, “I guess the dick has its uses too.” “Always,” Jim says as he drags Sherlock to bed, “Always.”