John lay on the couch contently with a book in his hands. It was nice to have peaceful days sometimes, when he didn't have to run around and find clues and solve crimes. Sherlock thought differently. He was sitting in his seat, his foot tapping impatiently. John could practically see the steam coming out of his ears. Chuckling, he went back to his book and continued to read, choosing to ignore the antsy Sherlock.

"John! How can you just sit there reading? There's no cases to solve!"

John sighed and said, "Because, Sherlock, I happen to enjoy these little days off. I get to read and relax, without having to worry about who killed who."

"Boring," he muttered. "Gah! There's nothing to do! John, where's my cigarettes?"

John sat up and laughed. "Oh no, not with the cigarettes again. I'm not telling you where they are!"

Sherlock grunted and started to tear the room apart looking for them. He was like a tornado, flinging everything into the air and leaving a huge mess behind him. Why couldn't John just tell him where they were? John sighed and looked at him. Did he have to be so messy?

"For God's sake, take a nicotine patch!"

"No! I don't want one, I want my cigarettes!"

"Well you're not getting them! So you can tidy up your mess, sit your ass down and shut up! Alright?"

Sherlock winced at the anger in John's voice. Muttering, he began to pick up all the paper and various other objects he'd knocked to the floor and put them back neatly where they belonged. When he'd tidied the room he sat down in his armchair, crossing his arms in a huff. He didn't mean to annoy John, but it was just so boring without any cases. Without anything to solve he felt as if his brain was turning to mush, dying for a murder to pop up. John moaned and moved over on the couch.

"Fine. Come here and read with me, if you're so bored."

Sherlock thought about it for a second then stood up and walked over to the couch. "What are you reading?" He asked, peering at the pages.

"Well, I thought I'd read Harry Potter again. I've always loved these books, ever since I was little. Used to pretend I was like Harry and run around the back garden with a stick shouting spells at my dog."

John shook his head and laughed at the memory. Sherlock smiled at the image of a young John, free of worries and cares. Nodding, he lay next to him, placing his head on John's chest and draping his right arm over his tan stomach. Together they read, laughing at the trio, enjoying the adventure. Sherlock himself had never really liked the books. Magic wasn't real, magic was lies. He only believed what he could see. However, he found that when reading with John, he'd actually begun to enjoy the story. Towards the end, John smiled and faced him.

"Have I managed to take your mind off not having a case?"

"Yes, actually. Of course, there is one more thing you could do that would erase the boredom completely..."

John smiled and cocked his head. "And what would that be exactly?"

"Oh I think you know, Mr Watson."

"Enlighten me."

Sherlock planted a soft kiss on John's lips. "A little more of that might help."

John gave a chuckle and kissed Sherlock. He may be a sociopathic bastard who finds joy in muders, but my God he could kiss fantasticly.

'What was that?" Sherlock asked, pulling back.

"Hm?"

"I think you said you liked the way I tasted..."

John blushed and stuttered. "Erm, I-I, uh..I never said that."

"Yes you did."

"Yeah, okay I did."

"So what do I taste like?"

"I don't know. You. Whatever it is it just makes me want to kiss you more." Johns cheeks flamed red and he closed hs eyes in embarrassment. Had he really just said that?

"Well then, I better shut up and let you kiss me, shouldn't I?"

Sherlock smiled. John was so cute when he was embarrassed. John grinned and traced Sherlocks bottom lip with his tongue. His hands were woven into his thick black hair, pulling him closer. A moan escaped Sherlocks lips. Why did John have to be so God damned good at kissing? Suddenly, John flung Sherlock off the couch, leaving him sitting on the floor, dazed. Angrily, he turned to John.

"What was that all about?"

John was about to answer when Mrs Hudson walked into the livingroom. She walked into the kitchen and placed the tray of biscuits on the had to move some of Sherlocks science equipment to set it down, but she was sure he wouldn't mind. Smiling, she walked back in to the livingroom.

"Hello, boys! I just brought some biscuits up. Custard creams for you, Sherlock. And Gingernuts for you, John. I know they're your favourites. Anyway, I-" She seemed to have just noticed Sherlock. "Sherlock, dear, why are you on the floor?"

"I'm studying the rug."

"Oh, well, okay then. I'll see you later boys! And don't think I'll be bringing you biscuits all the time! I'm not your housekeeper!"

John nodded and smiled as she walked back down the stairs. When she was gone, he grabbed a pillow and moaned into it.

"That was close. Too close, Sherlock. That's the fourth time this month she's walked in on us! I think it's time."

"Time for what?"

"Time for us to come out."

John had called over Mrs Hudson, Molly and Lestrade to the appartment. Sherlock wasn't too agreeing at first but he knew John was right. He was tired of having everyone assume that he was a freak with no concept of love at all. He wanted to prove that he was capable of love, and that someone was capable of loving him. Their three guests sat on the couch and John and him had turned their armchairs around to face them. Mrs Hudson was smiling, Molly looked interested and Lestrade looked utterly confused. What was going on?

"Well, we have something to say. It's pretty important and we thought you three should be the first ones to know." John started, his hands twisting nervously in his lap.

"What is it, dear?" Mrs Hudson smiled encouragingly.

"Yeah, what is it?" Greg asked, warily. He was scared they were gonna say Sherlock accidently killed the Prime Minister or something.

"Well...don't freak out, no shouting and no rudeness, okay?"

"John, its okay, just tell us!" Molly said, nodding her head.

"Right. See, well, the thing is... Wow, this is diffuclt to say, but, erm-" John gulped, trying to figure out how to phrase it.

"Oh, bloody hell, we're a couple!" Sherlock shouted impatiently. He couldn't be bothered with all this stuttering and breaking the news gently. Best to just get it over with.

Mrs Hudson's eyes popped out in shock. Then, she gave a soft smile to John and Sherlock. "That's lovely, boys. I'm glad you're happy together. We get all sorts in these parts, I'm sure nobody will judge you."

John sighed a breath of relief. He didn't know how they would take it, but at least Mrs Hudson was okay with it. Sherlock nodded at her, he knew she's be accepting. It was the other two he was wary of. Molly spoke up next. Her mouth formed a little 'o' when he'd said it, but she seemed to have composed herself now.

"Well, thats um, thats great! I'm happy for you, John. You, too Sherlock. It's, it's good that you're, um, together."

John felt a twinge of pity for Molly. He knew she'd always liked Sherlock, it must be hard for her to admit to herself that she really did have no chance with him now. John met Sherlocks eyes and knew he was thinking the same thing. Two down, one to go. Lestrade had chocked a bit on his coffee when he'd heard the words 'we're a couple', but he looked at them and gave a nod.

"I never thought, in all the time that I've known Sherlock, that he would be in a relationship. He's went and proved me wrong. Bloody hell, John, good luck! You'll need it with him!"

John laughed and even Sherlock gave a smile. That went better than expected, he thought. Their friends stayed for another hour or two, chatting and wishing them well in the relatoinship. When they left, John smiled and held Sherlock's hand. He felt so much better now that the most important people knew. He felt like he could stop hiding. Sherlock himself felt a bit better too. He wasn't for public displays of affection anyway, but it was nice to know that he could hold John's hand infront of them and they wouldn't freak out.

"Happy now?" He asked, pulling John into a hug.

"Oh, definitely. You?"

"Yes, just as long as Mrs Hudson knocks before she comes in, or perhaps doesn't even come in at all."

"Why?"

"Because I seem to rememebr we were in the middle of something when she rudely interrupted and you threw me to the floor."

"Were we? I can't remember. You'll have to refresh my memeory."

"Oh, I will, Mr Watson. It was a bit like this..."

Sherlock kissed John gently and pulled back. "Remember now?"

"Hmm...nope, try again."

Sherlock chuckled and put his hands on the small of John's black, pulling their bodies together. Their lips touched and John's mouth parted. Sherlocks tongue, now granted access, traced John's lip, before entering his mouth. John groaned and kissed back with such a passion that even Sherlock was suprised.

"You've been holding out on me, John." He whispered, breathlessly.

John smiled and pulled Sherlock towards him again. When they kissed, it was like fireworks. An explosion of intense emotion that not even John knew a kiss could contain, the electric currents passing between them like fire.

"I love you, Sherlock Holmes. I've never felt this way about anyone before. And I know it sounds bad but I am so glad that you don't like Molly."

"I love you, too. And why are you glad? Are you... are you jealous?"

John shook his head and laughed. "No, I'm not jealous. I'm just happy that it's me you like and not her. Because it might kill me if I had to see you two together. But it's good to know that won't happen."

"What's to say I won't leave you for Molly?"

John laughed out loud and kissed Sherlock gently. "Would you really give up this? For Molly?"

Sherlock smiled against John's lips. "No,I suppose not"

John's hands looped around Sherlocks neck and he pulled him closer. "You suppose not?" He whispered, his breath tickling Sherlocks ear.

Sherlock shivered and hugged John close. "Oh, definitely not."

John laughed and brushed his fingers against one of Sherlocks curls. Everything he wanted, was in this man. He knew that they'd be together until they were old and wrinkly. As annoying as he was, and even though they had arguments, Sherlock was the man for him. Looking down at John, with his sandy blonde hair and dark blue eyes, Sherlock found himself smiling. He really did love this man, everything that he was, everything he stood for, it was all amazing.

"I love you so much, John." He said, tilting his face up.

"I know. Now shut up and kiss me."

And that's exactly what he did.