"John... I'm bored." Sherlock moaned for what had to be the 100th time that day, and it wasn't even lunch yet. He lay, slumped on his couch in 221b Baker Street in his silk blue dressing gown looking as if death had just come to tell him his time was up. It wasn't his fault though, it had been 3 weeks since his last case and the lack of stimulation to his genius brain was slowly starting to get to him.

He had only one way of coping with the celibacy from his work and that was to annoy the CRAP out of his roommate/partner/friend, John Watson.

"John I swear to heavens mercy if I don't find something to occupy my mind soon I may become like one of you!" Sherlock waited for the heated reply his friend would usually retort with after being called an idiot but, silence.

He listened out for any sign of movement from John's room upstairs but was instead greeted with the slamming of the door downstairs, followed by familiar footsteps bounding closer to where the detective lay.

Sherlock's gears in his mind started to grind together as he began to play the soon-becoming traditional game with his partner.

"John I asked you to entertain me! As you were once a man of military I assumed you wouldn't disobey an order."

The Doctor had barely set a foot into his flat and already he wanted to strangle the man he reluctantly called his friend.

"And when exactly did you give me this order?" He replied, keeping his voice monotone while walking to the kitchen to unload his shopping.

"About 3 hours ago and to be quite frank I find it extremely rude of you to ignore me."

John could almost feel Sherlock's pout digging into him even with his back turned. "Didn't notice I'd gone out again then did you... You know what I'm getting sick and tired of -"

The Doctors rant was cut short by the ringing noise coming from the table.

"Be a dear and fetch that for me would you John?"

John, being the lapdog he was, fetched Sherlock's phone and handed it to him, completely forgetting that he was supposed to be mad at his roommate.

"Lestrade, Ahh how nice to hear from you, thought you might have died, but then I realized noooo. No one has the common decency to die anymore do they? Oh don't look at me like that John. We all know you..."

John watched as Sherlock's face lit up into that heart wrenching grin that spread all the way to his eyes. He would never get tired of that grin, pure ecstasy. Of course, John would love to make him grin like that in other situations. Hopefully including a bed, less clothes and… NO! Bad John, Bad. He really needed to get some action soon or he was afraid he'd end up doing something he'd regret to Sherlock.

He'd only been living with him for a year and for the past 8 months the good Doctor had been uncontrollably in love with the sociopath. He hadn't told him of course, this was Sherlock Holmes we were talking about here. If John did tell him however, he was almost certain the only response he would get was the detective telling him that his love was just a strong form of adoration. And John didn't think he could take that form of rejection yet, so as a result, he kept quiet.

Sherlock's voice broke him out of his thoughts.

"Of course, I'll - We'll be right there." He hung up the phone practically throwing it at John before sprinting up the stairs to his bedroom.

John, sensing he'd be going out again very soon left his coat on and settled in his armchair waiting for his friend to come and collect him. He had come to accept this fact. That that's all he would ever be the fantastic detective, but somehow that didn't bother him as much as it should. Because John knew that if he could just be a part of the things that made Sherlock happy, then he would be happy too.

And the whole danger part of it was a bonus of course.

Little did the doctor know that at that very moment while he was accepting he could just be a friend, Sherlock Holmes was thinking the exact same thing.

If someone asked him if he liked John Watson more than a friend then his answer would be no. If someone asked him if he was in love with John Watson then his answer would still be no. However, if someone were to ask him if he was obsessed with John Watson to the point where he wanted to lock him away so no one else could taint him with their eyes then his answer would, unfortunately have to be a yes.

He couldn't tell you when this obsession had started, just that it had. It was as if one night he'd gone to sleep wondering how it was possible for one man to own so many knitted jumpers to waking up the next morning and wanting to tear the jumpers off of him and just ravish the doctor on the nearest possible surface.

He hadn't known how to control this feeling at first, he had never experienced love before. Well of course he loved his family, but in the forced way that you have to love them. No, this love was completely new to him and he didn't know what to do with it. Should he tell him or keep it a secret? Both had their pros and cons and so, Sherlock did nothing, for he didn't know what to do to be able to stay around John without it being awkward.

And that whole not knowing part scared Sherlock to the core.