A/N: Rated K+ and written because of some truly idiotic fandom wank recently.
"So, Sherlock, I know this is a very personal question, but, well, I just need to know." John took a deep breath before asking, "Are you gay?"
The consulting detective shook his head, his eyes on his mobile as he tried once again to get a signal. "Nope. Nor asexual."
John let out a huff of breath. "OK. Straight, then." He nodded as if confirming something he already believed.
Sherlock glanced at him in annoyance. "There are other sexual orientations, John, you are aware of that, correct?"
"Yeah, of course," John replied indignantly. "I just…so, if you're bisexual or whatever, does that mean you ever…you know…wanted to? With me?"
Sherlock shook his head again, eyes once more glued to his mobile. "Nope. Sorry, not my type. Otherwise I would never have taken you as a flatmate. Mike Stamford knows my type; he'd never have introduced us otherwise. Too distracting to share rooms with someone you're attracted to - it's why I never asked Molly to move in with me, even when she was looking for new digs."
"Ah, good to know," John said with an awkward laugh. He did a double-take as the second part of Sherlock's statement sank in. "Wait, so you and Molly…?"
"You mean it's a relief to know," Sherlock corrected him, ignoring the half-asked question and zeroing in on what John HADN'T said. "You've been worrying about it ever since I confirmed that my college friend Victor Trevor and I had been lovers. Worrying that Mrs. Hudson might have seen something you missed, since she kept insisting on believing we were a couple. Worrying that I was hiding some unrequited romantic feelings for you…come on, John, surely you know me better than that!" He looked annoyed rather than hurt, much to John's relief.
"I do, I don't know what got into me," John said with a sigh. He gestured at the room in which they were currently incarcerated. "It's just…this, maybe? Being locked up again. Together. With just one bed, like someone's trying to set us up or something. Not you," he added hastily when he saw Sherlock's brow lowering. "But that girl, the one with the Moriarty impersonator - she made that comment about giving people what they've always wanted, and it made me…wonder. Stupid of me, sorry. Won't happen again."
"Hmm, yes, I know," Sherlock replied, but there was still an edge to his voice that made John wish he'd never opened his stupid mouth. "Ah ha!" That was pure triumph; apparently Sherlock had somehow managed to fiddle the mobile into working properly in spite of having been smashed to the floor by their captor. "Good, Molly got the message. Help is on the way." He glanced over at John. "And when they get here, do try not to be too shocked if I kiss her; now that I've decided to reevaluate my stance on sentiment, it seems the perfect time to show her how I feel."
He grinned, and John felt a flood of relief at the fact that he hadn't utterly alienated his friend with his asinine question.
He just hoped that Mary wasn't already aware of Sherlock's feeling for Molly; for once, he wanted to be the one to surprise his wife with something!
