Chapter 7

The next day passes unbearably slow. John doesn't get out of bed until nearly 2 PM, and that's after sleeping only about three hours.

When he wakes up he feels like he'd been crying all night. His body aches and his chest hurts, and the aching feeling of his heart being broken lingers with him. He can't bring himself to get out of bed, he can't bring himself to find out if Sherlock is home.

Finally at 2, he knows he needs to get out of bed. He grabs his towel and fresh clothes and heads for the shower. Luckily, he doesn't see Sherlock on his way. Sherlock's broken items are still scattered in the kitchen, not that Sherlock would clean it if he was home. John doesn't plan to clean it either.

When he gets out, he makes tea and sits on the floor. He knows he should eat but he doesn't feel like it. Everything just hurts far too much. He just sits in his chair and watches television.

Sherlock wanders London until the sun fully rises. Once it does, he heads to Bart's knowing someone will be there. Unfortunately, nobody will let him in because Molly is the only one that's got a crush on him. He shouts at them and leaves.

So he goes to the park. The park is nice and he thinks he needs fresh air to clear his head.

Once he sits and gets to thinking, he regrets the fight he had with John. He actually admits to himself that it was all his fault, He curses himself and falls against the grass.

"Why did I do that?" he asks out loud.

"Do what?"

Sherlock sits up and stares into the face of a little boy.

"Go away," Sherlock demands.

"What did you do?" he asks.

"None of your business."

"My Daddy said that when I do something bad I get time out or I apologize."

"Unfortunate."

"Do you need time out?"

"Why do you think I'm sitting in the middle of Regent's Park at 8 AM?"

The boy shrugs. "I'm Waldo," he says.

Sherlock remembers those silly 'Where's Waldo' books John showed him a few months ago when he was bored. "You're kidding."

Waldo shrugs. "What'd you do?"

"Nothing."

"I'm not going 'til you tell me."

Sherlock makes a face at him. "What do you want? Why are you here?"

Waldo sits across from Sherlock. The dark mop on his head bops up and down when he sits. His crystal blue eyes stare at Sherlock. "I can probably guess what you did."

"Ok," Sherlock says, crossing his arms. "Go ahead."

"Well, when my Daddy does bad things, my Mummy makes him leave. Did you hurt your wife?"

Sherlock laughs. "No. I don't have a wife."

"Did you hurt your girlfriend?"

"I don't have a girlfriend."

"Did you hurt your boyfriend?"

Sherlock stares at Waldo. "Why do you think I have a boyfriend?"

Waldo gives him a 'duh' look. "Because you don't have a girlfriend."

Sherlock smiles. "Ok, fair. Uh, well he's not my boyfriend, but I hurt him."

"What'd you do?"

"I yelled at him."

"Why?"

"Because he almost died for me."

"Isn't that good?"

"Why do you think that's good?"

Waldo gives the same 'duh' look. "Uh, Iron Man almost died for all of New York City because he loves them."

Sherlock looks confused.

"You don't know who Iron Man is?" Waldo asks.

Sherlock shakes his head.

"Well he's a super hero, and he loves Pepper. And New York was in trouble because of Loki, and he had to fly," Waldo raises his arms to demonstrate, "He had to fly into this big monster to save New York because he loved them. And then Hulk caught him and didn't let him die because he loves Iron Man even though Hulk is mean. So, they all love each other and help each other and Iron Man almost dies for them because he loves them."

Sherlock nods, then frowns. "Who is Loki?"

For the next hour, Waldo explains the entire plot to all the Marvel characters to Sherlock. In the end, Sherlock's still confused, but he gets the point of Waldo's story.

"So, John would die for me because he loves me?" Sherlock asks.

"Yes," Waldo says. "You shouldn't have yelled."

"I know."

"Now you have to say sorry."

"I don't say sorry."

"Then John will always be hurt. Do you want him to hurt?"

"Never!"

"Then say sorry."

Waldo's nanny comes from somewhere in the park. "There you are! I couldn't find you anywhere!"

"Sorry," Waldo says.

"Sorry if he bothered you," she says to Sherlock.

"He wasn't any bother," Sherlock says as the nanny pulls Waldo off the grass.

Waldo waves goodbye to Sherlock and trots along beside his nanny.

Sherlock gets called to Lestrade for follow up, so he doesn't head home until 5 PM. When he walks through the door, John is scowling at the TV.

"Home," Sherlock says as he shrugs his coat off.

"Where've you been?" John asks.

"I had to see Lestrade," Sherlock answers, walking into the living room. "I'm sorry, John."

"Sorry? You're sorry?" John shouts, sitting up. "You can't just say things like that and then disappear for the rest of the day!"

"I," Sherlock thinks of the right words. "I wasn't thinking John. I didn't mean it."

"You hurt me, Sherlock. What am I to believe now? I tell you I love you and you tell me you don't love me? That fucking sucks, Sherlock."

"I know, John. But I swear I didn't mean it. I see it now, I promise."

"No, Sherlock. I don't believe you."

Sherlock feels like he can't breath. He thinks of falling into his chair and dying there, but then he remembers his experiment. He tells John to wait and fetches his laptop. "I was experimenting on you," Sherlock admits.

John looks angry. "What?!"

"Not in a bad way, I swear. I just wanted to know if you loved me, so I was charting the things you did that showed promise."

"Where on earth did you get that idea?"

"Molly. I asked her what to do and at first she kept going on about how I should take you in my arms and kiss you. It was as if she didn't understand the concept of 'shut up'."

"Why didn't you just take her advice?"

"Wh-what?"

"You've known I love you, you idiot!" John shouts. "I didn't know how you felt about me."

Sherlock frowns. "I thought you knew…"

"Of course not! I had no idea until a few weeks ago, I got the idea."

"Why didn't you do anything?"

"Because I needed to be sure."

Sherlock chuckles. "We're idiots, John."

"I know," John bashfully looks down. He stands and walks over to Sherlock, standing right in front of him. He reaches up and touches Sherlock's cheek. "I love you, Sherlock. I always have and I always will."

Sherlock bites his lip. He feels scared. What if I'm rubbish at this? What if John changes his mind? What if—but his thoughts are cut off because John is kissing him. Sherlock feels like he's flying. He wants to smile, but he doesn't want to move John's lips. It's the happiest he has felt without chemical stimulus.

Finally Sherlock breaks away and asks, "What about me? Don't I get to make grand pronouncements?"

"Go ahead," John says, smiling.

"I love you, John. More than anything."

John smiles. "Anything?"

"Yes."

"So…you're not that upset about the mess I made in the kitchen?"

Sherlock smiles. "I think we can find some way for you to repay me."

John smiles and kisses him again.

*Bonus part that wasn't in the original story submitted to the contest. Warning for sex.

Soon, John and Sherlock's kisses become heated and frantic. Sherlock grabs the back of John's head and pulls John towards him, simultaneously parting John's lips with his tongue.

John's certain he's never imaged Sherlock to be this good a kisser. He didn't think Sherlock's had much practice in this area, but Sherlock's Frenchin' him like he's been doing it his entire life. It is more than John wanted and that was good.

Sherlock has one hand behind John's head and one on his hip, while John's hands are placed tight around Sherlock's waist. Sherlock pushes his fingers into John's hair and lightly pulls, while tightening his grip on John's hip. John's hands begin to roam, first rubbing circles around the small of Sherlock's back, then slowly he sends them south onto Sherlock's jean covered bum.

Sherlock lightly moans when John touches his bum. He doesn't mean to, but he does, and John rewards the sound by dipping his hands into Sherlock's back pockets and lightly squeezing. Sherlock moans loud this time and thrusts forward against John, making him moan again. He pulls off John's lips. "Sorry, I didn't mean—"

John looks into Sherlock's eyes. His pupils are so blown John can hardly see any blue. John loves this, doing this to someone; making them so aroused they can't control what their body wants. John loves the look they get; he calls them 'Sex-Eyes'. "It's fine," he says, pushing his head towards Sherlock's and pushing his tongue back into Sherlock's mouth. He thrusts his tongue in and out against Sherlock's at the same time squeezing Sherlock's bum and thrusting against him.

The angle isn't quite right, one of their cocks is digging into the other's bladder, more or less, but they moan and ravish each other's mouths while making a mess in their own pants.

After a minute or two of dry humping, standing in the middle of their living room, Sherlock pulls off John again and rubs his nose against John's. They're still so close their lips are almost touching, but they don't. "Bed?" Sherlock asks. "Bed?" this time he begs.

"Yes, yes," John says. He pulls his hands out of Sherlock's pockets and lets Sherlock pull him through the kitchen to his room.

Outside the door to Sherlock's room, he stops and looks at John. "Are you sure?" he asks.

"Of course."

"You have to be really sure. I can't deal with this not working or this going wrong or something. I can't…" Sherlock lowers his gaze. "I can't lose you."

John takes Sherlock's chin in his hand and tilts Sherlock's head up, looking him in the eye again. "I'm not going anywhere, I promise."

Sherlock gives him a small smile. John moves a ring of hair out of Sherlock's eyes and kisses him again. Sherlock quickly takes over and pushes John into the wall, still kissing him. He takes John's hands in his and pulls John's arms over his head, completely trapping John with the entire length of his body.

"Oh god," John says. He never realized how much bigger than him Sherlock is; he never expected that to turn him on so much.

Sherlock spreads his legs to even the height distance and stands so his and John's cocks are aligned. He thrusts forward and they rub together, and both men let out a loud groan. "Jesus," Sherlock whispers.

"And to think, I haven't even seen it yet," John whispers. "Oh, Sherlock, I'm going to fuck you so well. Best you'll ever have in your life."

Sherlock chuckles. "Well, considering the last time I had sex I was seventeen and it was a female, I'm sure this will be substantially better."

John goes tense in Sherlock's arms. "Sherlock, look if you don't want to…we could do anything else…I don't have to…"

"Hell no," Sherlock says. "You are fucking me, John Watson, and I don't care what you say. I need your cock in me so badly it hurts."

John smiles. "Let's get to it, then."

Sherlock lets John's arms go and instead pulls John by the belt loops to his bed.

Once there, Sherlock falls onto his back onto the bed. John stands between his legs and stares down at him.

"You're so gorgeous," John says.

Sherlock gives a lopsided smile. "John, I hardly think—"

"You do think so. You think you're gorgeous, I know you do. God, you're right."

Sherlock's smile widens. "Shut up and fuck me, John."

"I want to admire you. I want you to know how much I love you."

Sherlock sits up while John's still standing between his legs. "I know, John."

John presses his palm to Sherlock's cheek. He strokes a finger down his cheek bone.

Sherlock stares up at him but soon redirects his attention to John's trousers. He licks his lips and undoes the button. He looks back at John as if asking permission.

"Go ahead," John whispers.

Sherlock unzips him and tugs until John's trousers pool around his ankles. Sherlock watches them fall, then looks back up at John. John nods and Sherlock looks at John's pants. Black. Sherlock moans without realizing it. John chuckles. Sherlock smiles and takes hold of John's cock through his pants. John's chuckle quickly turns into a groan.

Sherlock strokes John and they both moan. After minutes of this, Sherlock takes hold of the waistband of John's pants and pulls them down, letting them join John's trousers on the floor. Sherlock doesn't watch them fall, though, because he watches John's cock spring free and stand at attention right in front of Sherlock's face.

Sherlock smiles and licks his lips once before licking at the precome pooling at the slit of John's cock. John moans and runs fingers through Sherlock's hair.

Sherlock licks at John a few times before taking all of John's cock in his mouth in one go. John's so shocked he pulls Sherlock's hair, but not enough to hurt him. Sherlock's finding that he might just like it if John does that. Sherlock deep throats him, then pulls off, then does it again.

"Jesus, Sherlock," John mumbles.

Sherlock sucks on the head while working the rest with his hand. He finds a perfect rhythm and does it expertly. After a minute, he looks up at John through thick eye lashes.

John moans. Sherlock looking up at him nearly makes him come, but he gets his head back and just pants. "Jesus, Sherlock," John repeats. "Where did you learn to do this?"

Sherlock pulls off John with a loud pop. "Research," he explains.

"What does that even mean?" John questions while Sherlock continues to slowly stroke him.

Sherlock smirks. "I watched porn, John."

John stares at Sherlock. "You watched girls suck mens' dicks so you could do this?"

Sherlock lets John go and falls back onto the bed again. "I didn't say I watched women do it."

John smiles at Sherlock. "Right, then. Let me see yours," John demands.

Sherlock lays back and stretches his hands behind his head. "Have at it," he says.

John falls over him and kisses him once before pulling back again and instantly taking hold of Sherlock's button and zipper. He doesn't waste time, he undoes them both and pulls Sherlock's trousers down, flinging them over his shoulder. "Silk," John comments as he touches Sherlock's cock through his pants.

Sherlock closes his eyes for a second and nods. "Nothing but the best," he says.

John smiles and dips his head to the dark patch near the waistband of Sherlock's pants. He sucks the spot into his mouth and tastes Sherlock's precome. He moans at the taste. "Ok, I have to taste you," he says, pulling Sherlock's pants off.

He licks one slow swipe up Sherlock's cock with his entire tongue. Sherlock arches his back and reaches for John's head. Nobody's ever done this to him before and he never expected it to feel this good. His fingers roam over John's sandy blonde hair before John sucks Sherlock's head into his mouth and tongues the slit.

"Fuck," Sherlock whispers, grabbing at John's hair.

"Should I make you come before I take you or keep you on edge?" John asks.

"Keep me on edge, dear god yes," Sherlock says, quickly unbuttoning his shirt.

"On the pillows, then," John says, nodding at the pillows on Sherlock's bed.

Sherlock shuffles backwards until he's in the right position, then sits up and pulls his shirt off.

"Have you got lube or condoms?" John asks.

"I know you have some in the bathroom," Sherlock replies.

John pulls his pants back up and smiles at Sherlock before leaving the room. He gets the lube but leaves the condoms. His last tests were ran just a month ago and he knows Sherlock's were only two weeks ago. He doesn't want anything between them, not with the man he loves.

When John returns to the room, he's treated to a site he wishes he'd have seen years ago: Sherlock simply stroking himself, one arm behind his head and the other giving himself a leisurely wank.

"Dear god," John says, "Had I seen that years ago I'd have been able to relieve much needed sexual frustration."

Sherlock smiles. "Have you always wanted to fuck me, John?"

"Yes. You're gorgeous, I'm a man. Of course I wanted to."

"Why didn't you a long time ago?"

"I didn't know you wanted to," John says, pulling his pants back down and kneeling on the bed. He shuffles forward on his knees before falling over Sherlock and kissing him.

"John," Sherlock says as John moves his lips south to Sherlock's neck.

"Mmm?"

"Why are you still wearing a shirt?"

"Oh, uh…" John begins to pull away from Sherlock.

"Don't, John," Sherlock pleads, pulling John back to him. "Tell me."

"You already know."

"But after you say it I can prove you wrong."

John takes a deep breath. "My scar," he admits.

Sherlock smiles. "You are so wrong, John Watson. Your scar is the sexiest thing on your body."

John looks away from Sherlock's face. "Stop, Sherlock."

Sherlock takes Johns' face in his hands and makes John look at him. "John, I can name the reasons why your scar is sexy. First, it's because of what it means. You almost died John, for our country. That thing about dying for something you love, that was stupid of me to disagree with. You did the most noble thing ever and got shot at war for your country. That, my dear, is sexy. Second, it makes you so manly and brave…it's hot, John. It is." Sherlock kisses John and drops his hand down to John's shoulder. "God, John, you have no idea how sexy it is."

John smiles. "Alright, alright. Nobody's thought it's sexy before."

"Everyone is an idiot."

John smiles wider. "Ok, if you say it's sexy, I'll take my shirt off."

"Please, John," Sherlock begs. "I need to feel you against me."

John sits back on his knees and pulls the shirt over his head. Sherlock moans. John smiles at that. Sherlock sits up and runs his hands over John's stomach. He's not military grade in shape, but he's still got a bit there. Sherlock's fingers run over his skin and he gets goosebumps.

Sherlock's hand run up to his chest, both hands taking hold of each nipple. John moans when Sherlock pinches, but soon he leaves off John's nipples and looks at John's scar. He dips his finger into each dip and gash, he touches all of it. Sherlock soon looks back at John's face. John sees the Sex-Eyes again and he attacks Sherlock in a kiss.

Sherlock moans when their chests touch. He arches into John's skin, rubbing his entire self against John. Their tongues touch and finally all of them is touching; every fiber becomes one. John takes Sherlock's head in his hands and runs his fingers through the hair behind Sherlock's ears. Sherlock runs his hands up and down John's back.

"God, Sherlock," John mumbles, "You're so fucking beautiful, so fucking hot…"

"Come on, John. I can't wait any longer," Sherlock says as John leaves open mouthed kisses on his neck.

"Ok, ok," John says. He sits back on his heels again and reaches for the lube he left at the foot of the bed.

"No condom?" Sherlock asks.

"Never between us, not ever."

"Ok, yes," Sherlock mumbles.

John spreads Sherlock's legs and leans down to kiss his thigh. Goosebumps raise and John smiles. "Are you ready?"

"Yes, for god's sakes!"

"Ok, ok. No need to get snippy," John says.

John lubes his middle finger with far more lube than needed and circles it around Sherlock's hole, getting the entrance wet.

"Feels good," Sherlock says.

"It gets so much better," John says.

"You've done this?"

"Oh, yeah."

"I didn't even know you liked men until today."

"I've always liked men," John pushes the tip of his finger into Sherlock and Sherlock grunts. "You're a man."

Sherlock breathes deep. "Yes, but I didn't know you fancied other men."

"I don't fancy other men. Not anymore." John pushes his finger deeper into Sherlock. "Keep talking, baby."

Sherlock smiles. "Baby? I like that."

"Yeah? There are more," John circles his finger inside Sherlock and pushes it deeper. "How about, 'Honey, you are so fucking sexy.'?"

Sherlock smiles. "You keep saying that."

"Doesn't make it any less true. Actually, it's becoming more and more true by the inch." John begins thrusting his finger slowly in and out of Sherlock, avoiding his prostate yet.

Sherlock moans.

John feels him begin to tighten and natural push him out, so John talks more. "How about, 'Sweetie, your arse is fucking divine.'?"

"You swear when you're aroused," Sherlock states.

"Brilliant observation, detective."

Sherlock chuckles. "I think I like it."

"So, pet names and swearing? Got it. Anything else?"

"Your cock, please."

John smiles. "Almost."

John takes his finger out of Sherlock and applies more lube to his index and middle finger. He strokes Sherlock's thigh and easily pushes his fingers in.

"Oh my god," Sherlock babbles.

"Good?"

"Yes."

Sherlock grabs the hand John has on his thigh and squeezes it.

"Keep talking," John demands.

"I want you in me, John," Sherlock says, it's the first thing he can think of.

"I can't wait to be. I've wanted to be for so long."

"Did you think about it?"

"All the time."

"Have you ever masturbated to me?"

John smiles. "All the time."

Sherlock smiles. "What did you imagine?"

"Everything," John pushes his fingers deep into Sherlock, still avoiding his prostate. "Us fucking in the shower, at the Yard, in the kitchen—"

"Yes, but what specifically? What thought did you go to most? Intercourse, fellatio, hand jobs…"

"Uh," John thinks that over while watching his fingers thrust in and out of Sherlock. "Intercourse most often. I've wanted to fuck you for so long."

Sherlock nods. "Me too."

"You masturbated to me?"

Sherlock nods again. "Yes. Many times. I hadn't had an erection since I was eighteen until I met you. It was quite surprising."

"What did you think about the first time?"

"This," Sherlock explains. "You in me. It's all I've wanted."

"Soon, Sherlock. I promise," John says, scissoring his fingers inside Sherlock.

"Now, please," Sherlock begs.

"Not yet. Not ready."

"Now John, for god's sakes. Please!"

John thrusts his fingers in Sherlock a few more times and pulls out. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, please!"

"Ok, ok, yes," John pulls his hand out and grabs the lube. He slicks up well and instructs Sherlock to stroke himself. "Are you ready?"

"Yes."

John leans forward over Sherlock and gets in position. He takes his slicked up hard on in hand and presses the head slowly into Sherlock.

"Yes, yes, yes," Sherlock babbles.

"Relax," John instructs.

Sherlock does. His body completely relaxes and John pushes in more.

"Oh my god," John mumbles. "So fucking tight." He pushes in more.

Sherlock free hand strokes John's arm. John pushes in more, very slowly, while Sherlock moans and strokes himself. John watches him do it and wants to be doing it for him, but he's concentrating on slowly thrusting in and holding himself up so he doesn't crush Sherlock.

Finally, John is in Sherlock all the way to the hilt. They both moan and lock eyes. John moves his arms so he's got one hand on the bed at either side of Sherlock's head, and Sherlock strokes his ribs.

"Ready?" John asks.

Sherlock nods.

John pulls almost all the way out and thrusts slowly back in. Sherlock's back arches and he moans loudly. He digs his fingernails into John's hips and scratches at John's skin.

"Jesus, I can't wait until you come," John says.

He thrusts slowly but builds a rhythm. He pulls almost all the way out and slowly pushes back in three times, and on the fourth go he hits Sherlock's prostate.

"Oh dear god!" Sherlock yells. He locks his legs around John's waist so John can barely move, then he wraps his arms around John's chest and pulls John down on top of him.

John lets himself be pulled, wrapping his arms around Sherlock's neck and beginning to thrust quicker and as deep as he can. He hits Sherlock's prostate nearly every time, pulling delicious moans from Sherlock and causing Sherlock to scratch John's back.

"Jesus, I love you," John whispers.

"I love you too John, I love you, I—"

John cuts Sherlock off by thrusting almost as hard as he can at this angle and being pressed so close to Sherlock. His hips work quickly and his cock presses against Sherlock's prostate every time. For more leverage, John pulls an arm from under Sherlock's head and places his hand on the head board. That way he's able to move more of his lower body and less of his upper body, causing harder thrusts.

Sherlock repays him by nearly shouting and scratching deep. "Fuck, John! Yes, ugghhhhh!"

John pulls up just a little bit to make enough space for Sherlock to stroke himself. "Touch your cock, Sherlock, mmmmmmm," John doesn't break his rhythm.

Sherlock takes a hand off John's back and spits on his palm, then reaches between them and takes hold of his cock. He lets the force of John's thrusts push his cock in his hand, he just hold his arm there. He moans with the double sensation and digs his nails into John's arse.

"I'm gonna come, John!" Sherlock shouts.

"Yes, yes, please!"

Sherlock tightens his hand and John thrusts deep, and within three thrusts, Sherlock's coming onto his hand and stomach. It's the most intense orgasm he's ever had; of course he's been giving himself orgasms since John after the first time he accidentally saw John's arse nearly five years ago.

Sherlock's arse tightens around John's cock when he begins to orgasm, and John shallows his thrusts so his cock stays inside Sherlock while Sherlock pulses. Within seconds of Sherlock's orgasm starting, John is coming deep inside Sherlock and shouting, "Oh Sherlock, oh Sherlock, ooh!"

Once they finish riding out their orgasms, John falls completely on top of Sherlock and Sherlock lowers his legs and pulls John as close to him as possible. They can probably feel each other's heart beats how close they are. Sherlock smiles and presses his nose into the hair behind John's ear. John feels him smiling against his ear.

"That was," Sherlock purrs, "The single most incredible thing ever."

John smiles against the pillow under Sherlock. He turns his head so his nose is buried in Sherlock's hair. "And to think, that was simple intercourse."

"Oh yes," Sherlock says. "I can't wait to try rimming."

John smiles. "Baby steps, love. We have all the time in the world."

They lie there for a second before John pulls out and lays beside Sherlock.

Sherlock turns onto his side and curls up against John. "Can I do you next time?" he asks.

"You need to cut your bloody fingernails before you get those fingers anywhere near my arse."

Sherlock smiles. "Sorry about the scratching."

"God no, it was perfect. But I don't want those fingers up me with those things. I might be bleeding."

Sherlock laughs. "I'll take care of them."

John turns his head to look at Sherlock. "I love you."

"I love you too, John. Only you. Only ever you."

John turns onto his side and wraps his arms around Sherlock.

They fall asleep and wake up sometime in the middle of the night. John makes them eggs while Sherlock attempts to clean the mess in the kitchen, but John shoos him away and promises he'll pay for damages.

*Back to original submission.

Later that night, they sit in Sherlock's bed and John is checking his email on Sherlock's laptop. "So what was the experiment?" he asks.

"I was charting your actions."

"Show me," John says.

"Ok, here," Sherlock takes his laptop from John. John rests his chin on Sherlock's shoulder. "Here's the data I retrieved."

"Results is empty," John observes.

"Yes, my experiment was abandoned when we got the case."

John kisses Sherlock's shoulder. "You could finish it now."

Sherlock smiles.

Question: Does John love me?

Background: By Molly's explanation, the way he looks at me shows promise. And the things he does for me. And he talks to me in a nice way, unlike everyone else. He's been my friend for years and hasn't left; he even came back when I left. And I love him, so he must love me.

Hypothesis: John loves me.

Experiment: I'm going to do absurd things to see if he really does love me.

Data:

Date: December 8th. Experiment has been active for forty-seven hours and fifty-eight minutes. Nearly two days.

Data: John has been doing all I ask, as usual. His mood, however, has not changed. He is acting the same as he always has. Experiment must carry on, for I have no data proving that he does, in fact, love me.

On second thought, Sherlock types, a few minor behaviors have changed. Yesterday, noon, John's touch lingered on my back for more than three seconds. Usually, his touches are brief and quick, but it is still inconclusive. Experiment must carry on.

Data: John would die for me.

Results: John loves me.

John looks at Sherlock, grabs his face, and kisses him.

~Fin.