"Sherlock, I'm back!" John puffed as he made his way up the narrow flight of stairs carrying the groceries. When, as expected, he had no response from his friend, he fumbled for his keys and managed to edge through the door.
"Have you bought milk?" Asked the detective not bothering to look up from his fixated gaze at John's empty chair.
"No, I went to the grocers to dance around in the frozen section."
"Why the sarcasm, John, feeling agitated?" Sherlock knew what was on John's mind but he wasn't going to say anything as John was already obviously miffed.
"No I'm not agitated, I love getting the groceries in the bitter cold while you stare at a chair for six and-a-half hours!" John let out a fed-up little laugh that got stuck in his throat and came out as a squeaky chirp.
"John, I've been thinking," Sherlock continued, completely unaffected by John's ranting. "It's about what happened the other day.
"Look, I really don't want to be reminded of that right now I just, I don't know..." He trailed off and was now inaudibly mumbling under his breath.
Two nights ago, John was on a date with a pretty lady who worked at a flower shoppe. Just as he was about to make a move, John was interrupted by Sherlock bursting into the restaurant, grabbing his flat mate by the wrist and speeding him out of the place without saying a word. Thinking there was some type of emergency John panicked. "Sherlock! What's going on? It isn't Mrs. Hudson is it? Or Lestrade? Mycroft, Molly?(bloody hell) it's not Anderson? SHERLOCK!" He yanked his wrist away and stood in the cold staring at Sherlock who was simply standing on the pavement, his face half hidden by the collar of his coat and his eyes closed. "What is this all about?" John swore he saw tear tracks on sherlock's cheeks, but chose to ignore it. Still confused, he watched Sherlock get into a cab that had pulled up, and attempted to get into the car, but found the door being slammed in his face. Next thing he knew he was alone in the street, utterly dumbfounded, not to mention steaming mad.
John had not spoken to sherlock since that incident, with the exception of the past few moments in which he returned to the flat with the shopping.
"I, um, want to apologize for ruining your night and I just want to say, not blaming you of course, that my night was ruined as well." John was trying to look menacing but he couldn't help but soften his expression ever so slightly as he saw a pink tinge appear on Sherlock's magnificent, pale cheekbones as he said this.
"Well! By all means please elaborate!" John spat, filling the silence that followed Sherlock's last sentence. Sherlock took a deep breath and stood up, focusing his piercing blue (or maybe they were green. All John knew was that they were gorgeous) eyes on John's dark ones.
"I know this may be strange for you to see me like this, and I of course understand if you don't, er, quite...agree with me." Sherlock clutched his forehead and spun around on the spot as he spewed, "John Hamish Watson I am madly in love with you and I am extremely jealous if every single woman you have ever fancied and I know you won't return my feelings but I have to get this off my chest because its been so distracting to me and I can't LIVE with this madness of LOVE in my head! I don't understand it and I HATE things I don't understand so please forgive me for ruining our friendship but I might've burst with angst and I don't think you want to hose me off the walls!" For a moment, John stood rooted to the spot. Then, quite as suddenly and quickly as Sherlock had spoken, John rushed at Sherlock and pinioned him to the wall. At first Sherlock was alarmed "John I-"
And then John was kissing him.
