John's hands lifted, mostly from shock, and Sherlock took the opportunity to surge his hands forward. John gasped and clamped his hands back down on Sherlock's.

"Dammit, Sherlock!" John hissed, "That wasn't an invitation!"

Sherlock frowned at John. He didn't understand what the problem was. John provided an issue and Sherlock said something that solved the issue. But John was still resisting. Why? Was this some game that Sherlock didn't know about? Was John "playing hard to get" or something of that sort? Sherlock's frown just deepened as he tried to sort through what was going on.

"Sherlock, there are different types of love," John said quietly, "Family love, the way you love a friend, romantic love, plutonic love. And I think you're confused as to the difference between them."

"I'm not stupid!" Sherlock snapped.

"I didn't say you were, love," John said gently, "I just think it's hard for you to understand this particular area. I believe that you think you love me in some sort of way, but I don't think you love me the way you think you do."

"John, what does it matter?" Sherlock said in a frustrated tone, "All I know is I need you here and I will do anything at all to make sure you stay."

"Sherlock, do you want to do this?" John said, squeezing Sherlock's hands, "Do you want to do what you're suggesting?"

"If it makes you happy," Sherlock answered.

"If it had no impact on my emotion," John said, "And it didn't cause me to stay or leave, would you still want to do it?"

Sherlock opened his mouth, but then closed it with a snap. His eyebrows came together as he considered the question. There had been fleeting…thoughts…ones that Sherlock had chosen to push away. There had been a few…dreams. There had been times when John had just stepped out of the shower or was leaning over Sherlock to look at something…Sherlock had been filled briefly with desire for the other man. Sherlock took a deep breath and allowed the pushed away thoughts to come through.

He realized quite suddenly that he did want this man. He wanted him in every sense of the word. He wanted his mind, his body, his heart. Sherlock felt a shock go through him at the sensation of…love. When he'd said it, it had mostly just been a flippant remark, but now as Sherlock kneeled before John, he knew he loved the other man. His heart started pounding and his stomach tried to twist itself into a knot. It was partly unpleasant, but partly very wonderful. He gasped and his fingers dug into John's legs.

"Yes," Sherlock breathed.

"There, see you-," John jumped suddenly, "What did you say?"

"Yes, I want you, I want to do it," Sherlock gasped, "And more and anything and everything."

John gaped at him and leaned forward, pressing a hand to Sherlock's forehead.

"Are you alright, Sherlock?" John said in concern, "You look flushed."

"I'm aroused," Sherlock panted, "Can we have sex now?"

John's hand flinched away from Sherlock. John looked into the other man's eyes.

"Oh my lord," he whispered, "You actually do love me, don't you? All I can see in your eyes is raw emotion. It's giving me goose bumps."

"I don't know what's happening to me," Sherlock confessed, "I've never felt like this before. Quite literally: I have never felt this strongly about anything before. I think I understand why people fall in love now. It's absolutely incredible!"

John laughed and suddenly breeched the distance between their lips. He pressed against Sherlock who responded eagerly. John's hands tugged on Sherlock, pulling him up to his lap. Sherlock broke off to straddle John and then excitedly pressed his body against John's.

"Does this mean we're having sex?" Sherlock asked enthusiastically.

"Is that all you care about?" John laughed.

"No," Sherlock frowned, "I care about you too."

John shook his head and smiled sweetly up at Sherlock.

"I never thought I'd hear that from you," John said quietly, "I thought I was going to live my whole life fawning over you and you would never notice."

"Does that mean you love me too?" Sherlock questioned.

"Yes, idiot," John said, grinning, "I love you too."

"Good," Sherlock said, "Because I was just struck with the thought of how awful it would be if you didn't love me as well. I suppose that's the bad side of love: you don't know if the person will love you back."

"Sherlock…" John whispered, trailing off and looking away.

"What is it John?" Sherlock asked, pressing a hand to John's face.

"If this isn't real," John said tightly, "I will kill you."

"It is the most real I have ever felt," Sherlock replied.

John looked up and puffed a sigh of relief.

"I guess I should cherish this moment," John said, smiling widely, "I doubt you'll ever be so emotionally open again."

"Probably not," Sherlock admitted, "But I can try."

"What made you decide you loved me all of a sudden?" John inquired.

"I didn't suddenly decide I loved you," Sherlock said, frowning, "I suddenly realized I did. I've loved you for a long, long time. I didn't realize it until now, when I allowed myself to actually feel for once."

"I'm glad," John said, "About everything."

"That is good, right?"

"Yes, yes it is."

"Good…"

There was a lengthy pause before Sherlock spoke again.

"Can we have sex now?" he pressed urgently.

"God, Sherlock, we don't have to have sex right away."

"I know…I just suddenly want to. I don't really like the feeling, actually."

"What feeling?"

"Being aroused."

"Haven't you been aroused before?"

"Fleeting moments. None that lasted this long. It hurts, John."

"Oh shit, you have an erection. That's why you're uncomfortable. You've never had one before?"

"No."

"Well, I guess we'll just have to take care of it, won't we?"

Sherlock looked down at John and felt a shiver go through him. He nodded; his mouth suddenly clamping shut. John grinned up at him and a hand crept up his leg. John's hand gingerly pulled down the zipper and unfastened the button of his trousers. Then John's hand was sliding down into his pants and grasping the erection that throbbed so painfully. John freed it from the fabric prisons and stroked his hand along the length of it.

Sherlock made an obscene noise with his mouth and gripped John's shoulders. John smirked at him before he turned and laid him out on the sofa. Sherlock kept a hold of John's shoulder and John kept a hold of Sherlock's prick. Sherlock groaned loudly as John's hand began to move. It was torturously slow and he wondered how it was possible to orgasm from this. As soon as the thought made its way into Sherlock's mind, John's hand sped up. Sherlock gasped and clutched harder at John's shoulders. Sherlock's hips lifted off the sofa, bucking into John's hand. Sherlock frowned in confusion; he hadn't intended to do that.

"It's ok, Sherlock," John reassured him, "That's normal. Your body's taking over."

Sherlock wasn't sure that that was particularly reassuring. But he didn't have much time to think on it, as John's grip had suddenly become tighter and his pace sped up. Sherlock let out an awkward moaning noise and his face contorted. Later, Sherlock would lament looking like an idiot, but at that moment, he couldn't have cared less.

"Holy. Oh. My. I. John. Can't," Sherlock muttered as his hips lifted once again.

And a few seconds later he screamed and clutched John as though the man was his life support. Hot pleasure surged through him and he was sent into a spiral of gasping and shuddering. He hazily registered that his own semen was splattering against John's shirt. He pulled on John, pulling him closer to his body. He suddenly felt very cold.

"You ok there?" John whispered in his ear.

Sherlock panted in response, trying to catch his breath.

"That was quite pleasurable," he finally managed to gasp out.

"Thank god," John said, sounding relieved, "I was afraid you didn't like it for a minute there."

"It was the first time I've ever…" Sherlock trailed off, trying to collect his thoughts.

"I know," John said quietly, "There will be more times, if you want."

"Yes," Sherlock answered breathlessly, "But not now…I can't…my mind…"

"Went to fluff?" John supplied, chuckling.

"Yes," Sherlock replied, his hands tightening on John's shirt, "Scary."

"For you, I imagine it is," John agreed, "Other people don't mind as much."

There was a long silence as Sherlock tried to compose himself.

"John, I really do love you," Sherlock whispered.

"I know," John whispered back, "I love you too."

They laid there until they started falling asleep, at which point they readjusted themselves to be more comfortable. Sherlock tucked himself back into his pants and zipped up his trousers, looking rather embarrassed. John pressed a light kiss to his lips and snuggled into his chest, promptly falling asleep. Sherlock stayed awake for a few more minutes, looking down at the other man's mused blonde hair. He sighed and kissed the man's head before falling into deep, peaceful sleep. He didn't realize until later that there had been a million things to think at that moment, but he hadn't thought a single one of them.

Little note: That's the end guys. :/ Hope ya'll liked it! Love you all!