Dr. John Watson had met many people throughout his life.

Some were nice, caring people, and some, well, not so much. He had fought alongside some of the bravest, most noble soldiers and experienced fighting against the most cruel foreigners, but he had never met anyone like Sherlock Holmes.

Sherlock was the most interesting, intelligent, remarkable person John had ever met. But he was also the most annoying, stubborn, and difficult person he had ever met.

Despite Sherlock's many flaws, John felt very lucky to be both flat mate and best friend to the great detective, even if he didn't know much about him which bothered John more than it should have.

Currently, John was watching Sherlock, who was laying on the couch, fingers steepled under his chin, something he was often seen doing during his down time.

"John, you're not going to stare at me all day, are you?" Sherlock asked, not bothering to look at John.

"Wha-?" He cleared his throat and rustled the newspaper he had forgotten about. "Who said I was staring at you? You're eyes were shut!"

"You don't think that I'm that stupid, do you? You haven't flipped a page in thirty minutes. Since the tellys not on and I haven't heard you move, and given that your chair is turned toward the sofa, your either really interested in the wall or in me. I'd say the latter."

"How do you know I wasn't napping?"

"You weren't snoring."

"Oh. Sorry, I was just lost in thought. I was thinking about how we've been living together for three years and I barely know anything about you."

Sherlock looked over at him. "And… this troubles you?"

"Well, you know a lot more about me than I do you."

"Only what you want to tell me or what I've deduced. Otherwise, I know little about you as well."

"Aren't you curious? Aren't there things you'd like to know?"

"Not really, I have a couple of questions, but nothing that really just nagging at me. I'm guessing there are questions you'd like to ask?"

"Well, yeah, I have a few."

"Then ask. I'll tell you the truth. I have nothing to hide."

"Uh, okay…" He folded his newspaper and laid it aside. "Your parents. You never say anything about them. You never talk about them or mention them, not even when you talk about Mycroft. What happened?"

Sherlock looked at the ceiling and said simply, "They died. Plane crash. I was only twelve."

"Oh, that's horrible. I'm really sorry Sherlock."

Sherlock sighed, "Not the best of endings, is it? It really affected Mycroft though. He was going off to school when they died. He had to drop out to take care of me. I think that's why he's always resented me, I ruined the chance for him to go to college. No one wants to take care of the younger brother when you're trying to get on with life."

"I don't think he resents you. I know he worries about you. He told me he did."

"He's probably worried I'll get addicted to drugs again and ruin his image."

"I'll make sure that doesn't happen."

Sherlock smirked. "Oh don't worry, one day you'll meet a woman and run off with her and you won't even remember me."

"Yeah, I don't think that'll happen anytime soon, seeing as you ruin all of my dates," John pointed out.

"They weren't right for you. I was just weeding them out."

"Weren't right for me? What do you mean by that?"

Sherlock sat up and pulled his knees to his chest. "I mean, you were too good for them. They didn't deserve you."

John stared at Sherlock. "I've never heard you say anything like that to… well, to anyone!"

"I'm only telling you the truth."

John smiled. "Thank you Sherlock. That means a lot to me."

Sherlock nodded.

"What about you? Think you'll ever settle down? Start a family?" John asked.

"No. You know I consider myself married to my work, and besides, who would be capable of loving someone like me? I'm a machine, remember?"

John shook his head. "You're not, Sherlock. You're as human as the rest of us. You just don't know how to show your emotions. You can work on that."

"I wouldn't even know what to do if I found someone. I've always been alone. You're the only person I've ever called a friend. Even through school, I never made a friend. I used to eat my lunch in the chemistry lab so I wouldn't be seen by myself. You're the first real friend I've ever had, John. You have no idea how much you mean to me. I know you take a lot of snide remarks from me and I know that I annoy you to no end with my violin and my experiments. But you are the best thing that has ever happened to me. That's why I mess with your dates and throw comments at you. I want you to be as happy as I am when I'm with you. I want you to find someone who lights up your life and truly loves everything about you. I just want to pay you back for all you've given me, John."

John looked away from Sherlock and fought back tears. He sniffed and let out a choked, "and they say you aren't human."

"Will you promise me something John?"

"Yes. Anything."

Sherlock got off the couch and squatted down in front of John, looking him directly in the eyes.

"Promise me that when you get married, you won't forget about me."

"Of course I won't. How could I forget about you? You're my best mate, Sherlock. You always will be."

Sherlock gave a sad smile and said, "Can I ask for one thing?"

"What is it?"

"One day I may settle down, maybe I'll find my soul mate, who knows? But for right now, at this moment, could I steal a kiss from the only person I've ever loved?"

John couldn't say anything to that so he merely nodded.

Sherlock leaned forward and gently pressed his lips against John's, his hand resting on John's thigh.

Sherlock barely pulled back and whispered against his lips, "You're my first kiss. Please don't forget me John. I'll never forget you."

With that, he stood up and walked to his room without looking back.