Sherlock came up the stairs, taking off his coat and scarf as he did so. He hung them on the stand inside the door, then sat down at the desk and picked up the newspaper.

"Hello," he said to the room in general. When John didn't reply, he looked up. He always at least said hello. Instead, John was still staring out the window with a blank expression on his face.

"Um…John?" Sherlock said, starting to get a bit concerned. But John shook himself, like he was coming out of a deep slumber, then turned to him and gave a small smile.

"Sorry, didn't hear you come in. Did everything go alright then, with that case?"

"Yes, it did. It turned out to just be a six, though. Don't know why Lestrade had to get all worked up about it."

"Oh I don't know, Sherlock, maybe because it was his niece?"

Sherlock considered that. "Hmm, I guess so. Some people take family so seriously."

"For God's sake, just because yours is ridiculously dysfunctional and probably has the codes to at least four nuclear missiles, it doesn't mean that everyone else has it that bad."

John seemed more agitated than usual. Sherlock peered at him again, wondering what was up. He hated to ask, but he was curious.

"Are you…ok, John?"

John sighed. "Don't worry about it, Sherlock. It has to do with emotions."

"Oh." Sherlock paused for a moment, wondering what the right thing to do was. He cringed internally before saying,"No…go ahead. It's fine."

To say John was surprised was an understatement. He regarded Sherlock for a moment, wondering if he was playing with him. When he saw that wasn't the case, he said, "I guess I'm just - lonely, that's all. I can't keep a girlfriend to save my life, and you, Harry, and Mrs. Hudson are all I've got. Which no offense, doesn't amount to very much."

Sherlock wasn't offended, because he knew that as friends went, he wasn't a very good one. But part of him glad he was even in that category at all.

"Well…have you thought about why that might be?" Not his best line of questioning, but he had gone too far down this path of awkwardness to turn back.

"Use your enormous, annoying brain, Sherlock! It's because of you," John practically shouted.

Sherlock was taken aback. "What do you mean?"

"I mean whether I like it or not, you are my first priority. I drop everything for you, including relationships. I think about you, I worry about you, and I try my damndest to keep you from being killed. That's a full time job, Sherlock."

Sherlock's eyes widened, and his mind was racing. Strangely enough, so was his heartbeat. He unconsciously got up from the desk, and his feet carried him over to the window where John was standing, glaring at him.

"I didn't realize that was the case. I'm sorry…truly."

Some of the fire went out of John's eyes as he stared into Sherlock's. He shuffled his feet, and turned to look back at the window. "Um, it's fine. Don't worry about it. I'd choose it anyway." The last part he muttered under his breath.

Sherlock reached out tentatively and grabbed John's wrist, turning him back to face him. He wasn't sure why he did it, but then he leaned in slowly, stopping an inch from John's lips. His heart was racing so wildly he thought it might leap out of his chest.

John froze for a second, taken completely unawares. A war of emotions suddenly ripped through him, and his gaze flicked up to where Sherlock was staring at him intensely, with those piercing blue eyes of his. For once, he was waiting patiently for John to make a decision. It only took him a second. He moved forward the last inch and gently touched his lips to Sherlock's. That did it. Sherlock grabbed John's other wrist and shoved him up against the wall, their kiss becoming deeper. After a few seconds, Sherlock broke away and began kissing John's neck.

"Um – Sherlock – is this the best idea?" John gasped, trying to maintain a train of thought.

"Why wouldn't it be?" Sherlock muttered, moving to the other side of John's neck.

"Uh…honestly I don't know," John said, giving up on all coherent thinking. Sherlock smirked and let go of John's wrists, instead wrapping his arms around the smaller man's waist and moving back to his lips. John used his newfound freedom to entangle his fingers in Sherlock's curls, drawing him closer. So this is what it feels like to lose control, John thought before he completely surrendered.