As per usual, when John returned home to 221B Baker Street following his shift at the A&E, he made every attempt to stay as silent and un-noticeable as possible. On an ordinary day, it would not have mattered much because he would walk through the front door to find Sherlock in his classic 'thinking position' with his hands elegantly folded beneath his chin, eyes clearly deep in thought, and scouring the facts hidden away in his mind palace.

Unfortunately, it had been nearly a week since the detective's phone chimed with a summoning text from Lestrade regarding a case that New Scotland Yard required consultation on. All things considered, John really should have known better than to think even his first step onto the stairs leading to their flat would go unnoticed by his madly brilliant flat mate. Still, it certainly took the doctor by surprise to enter the flat and see Sherlock in the kitchen.

Okay, so the sleuth taking up residence in that particular room wasn't odd in itself, but instead of conducting an experiment in their food preparation area or sitting hunched over his (stolen) Bart's microscope, he was fiddling with two mugs and a kettle that looked suspiciously as though it were prepped for tea. The scene was so odd that John elected to toe off his work shoes and hang up his jacket before even trying to enter the space and ask what the hell was going on.

It wasn't until the shorter man approached his friend that said man turned from his task. At the look of frustration and something that looked suspiciously like disappointment, John burst into laughter. Not at the look Sherlock was giving him per-say, but at the situation as a whole; it occasionally astounded the sandy haired man how blissfully ignorant the detective could be on topics like the Prime Minister, the names of the planets, and something he saw done multiple times per day: make tea.

"Sherlock, is everything alright?" John asked lightly, tone genuinely curious.

"I was trying to surprise you" the genius responded moodily, moving to sit on the couch in the living room and sulk, looking at John from under his fringe as he did so.

This response naturally stuck in the shorter man's head as he attempted to dissect the reasoning behind Sherlock's actions. Why would he want to surprise him? Was there something he'd forgotten that was important?

When the answer crashed into the forefront of his mind, the doctor immediately felt like the universe's biggest prat. Today was very special indeed, and the simple fact that his (call it what it is, Watson) boyfriend remembered the six month anniversary date since their relationship shifted from semi-platonic to romantic and sexual was probably the most touching part of the entire situation. If he wasn't careful, John might actually let out a bit of a sob at the very notion.

Instead, he stood in the kitchen finishing up their cups of tea before bringing both to the living room and setting them on the table as he sat close enough to his (still sulking) detective that their thighs were pressed solidly together and he could feel the warmth coming steadily off of Sherlock's skin.

Initially, the shorter man had absolutely no idea what to say, so he wrapped his arms around his partner and pulled him into an awkward side hug as he waited for reciprocation within the embrace. Soon enough, the curly haired man shifted to tuck his head in the space between John's shoulder and the side of his neck.

The position was a favourite of Sherlock's because they'd discovered early on that the space was the perfect size to accommodate him; it was one of many things that managed to convince the two men that they just fit, that they were designed to be together this way.

"I'm sorry I laughed at you, Sherlock" John apologized sincerely. "I really appreciate what you were doing, and it means a lot to me that you remembered today and that it's of significance to you as well" he added softly, dragging one hand through the messy curls he loved so much and pulling back so he could look at the other man properly.

"You astound me" he admitted then, seeing the familiar spark take up residence in his lover's eyes once more, pout sliding off his face.

"I do have a rather large file of you tucked safely away from deletion" Sherlock responded haughtily, looking for all the world as though it were common for him to save information on a specific person in his mind palace.

Mind, this was the same man who went almost a decade of knowing DI Lestrade without actually knowing that his first name was Greg.

"I know" John responded carefully, linking his fingers with Sherlock's as he did so. "And moreover, I know that I'm at least as important to you as you are to me, but there's not-" he broke off then, biting at his lip and considering his next words very carefully.

"There aren't enough words, strong enough words for me to try and explain how critical you are to me, how much you affect every part of me."

Though they'd discussed Sherlock's distaste of sentiment on multiple occasions, the actions of the past few minutes had proven John to be the exception, as he was with most of the things relating to the detective.

To his surprise, Sherlock's eyes lit up at his words and the corner of his lips twitched barely perceptively; he was happy, and if John wasn't very much mistaken, felt quite the same way.

Slowly, so the other man could half-track and half-predict his motions and the intent behind them, the doctor raised both hands, allowing his fingers to part from the genius's. Then, with a smile on his lips, John reached up to splay one palm on the side of his boyfriend's elegant neck. With the other, he stroked the covered skin of the taller man's waist before leaning in closely and pressing their lips together so softly it was more a share of breath than anything.

As he felt Sherlock relax under his touch, John connected their mouths more firmly, feeling as giddy and special as he had the first time they'd touched this way.

Their lips moved together gently, a tangle of breath and tongues and shaky exhales. Before things could go too much further, though, John pulled back, leaving his hands in place and only moving enough away that they could look directly at each other, silvery-grey eyes meeting light blue.

Nothing on Earth could have made either of them any happier than they were in that moment, and it felt so right that John took a steadying breath, smiled, and confessed out loud for the first time.

"I love you, Sherlock. So, so much. Always."

Instead of waiting for a direct answer, he claimed his lover's lips again, giving him a moment to process.

"John!" Sherlock said firmly, mimicking the man's hand positions on his own body. "You are essential. I would be lost without you. You make me a better man, and I love you every moment of every day" he continued, eyes full of sincerity and voice not wavering for even a fraction of a second.

Together, they leaned in once more to seal their words with the most caring of kisses and pulled apart simultaneously, John smiling widely and Sherlock looking as though he felt more safe and at home than he ever had before.

"Happy anniversary, love" John said gently, adoring the feel of the words on his tongue.

"Happy anniversary, my John" Sherlock replied simply, words sounding light and genuinely happy as they passed through the doctor's ears.

Without further ado, the pair walked hand in hand to their bedroom and spent the rest of the evening demonstrating their affection to one another through touch and breathy sighs, their actions accompanied only by many more declarations of love for one another.