John wakes up in the morning. He makes breakfast, Sherlock is already in his chair, staring off into space.
"Want anything?" John asks, as he turns the kettle on. Sherlock doesn't reply. "What are you thinking about this time?" John asks, pouring boiling water into his tea mug, "We don't have a case, so what could you possibly be thinking about".
"You," Sherlock replies. "I'm thinking about you."
"Sorry, what?" John says, now confused. Before he could do anything, Sherlock had already started dragging him to the bedroom.
Sherlock and John do the do.
The end.