Sherlock pushed open the door with his butt, being very careful not to spill any of his precious cargo onto the floor of the crime scene. As he entered he looked around him, observing the beautiful wallpaper that adorned the dishevelled room. But that wasn't the most beautiful thing in the room and his heart felt warm and fuzzy as his eyes fell upon Dr John Watson, crouched in the centre of the room, examining the corpse that lay there. He crouched beside him and held out the cup as John peeled off his gloves before accepting it.

"Thanks love...ly, lovely. Thanks" he said without thinking, before quickly correcting himself. Sherlock smiled and stood, glancing over at Lestrade in the corner of the room, who had an expression if pure shock plastered across his face. He sighed, was it really that surprising when he did something nice?

Sherlock continued that behaviour for the next hour, offering to carry John's bag, taking his coat, and making sure to touch him as often as possible, driving the doctor mad with the need to kiss his tormentor.

Finally Sherlock could see that John was getting to the end of his tether and when he couldn't take it anymore he pushed Sherlock against the wall and kissed him, hands running up and down his sides as he clutched at the detective's long coat. They heard someone clear his throat next to them, and Sherlock felt John leap away from him as he tried to push is dark curls off his face and straighten his coat.

"John was just..." Sherlock tried to make an excuse. He didn't want John to be outed this way, but he couldn't think of anything to say.

"John was just kissing his boyfriend, who he doesn't want to hide anymore."

Both Sherlock and Lestrade turned to stare at John, but Sherlock's shock dissipated as he felt him - his boyfriend to all who cared to know - take his hand and give it a light squeeze. Suddenly Lestrade broke into a grin and stuck his head around the door. "Hey Molly! You owe me a fiver!"