SHERLOCK POV

"That's new. When did this come up?" I inquired nervously. John has never shown interest before. Not this way. I quite like it, though. This feeling I've been having about John…I'm not sure if it's what he'd call love. I'm obviously attracted, but I'm not sure I could call it "love"

"I've almost always felt this way…" John replied hoarsely, probably believing he's going to be rejected. I can't reject John. I've barely ever denied him anything partaining to myself. I hate when other touch me, but I let him do so, I even told him to hold my hand once when we had to go on a plane, considering I'm actually afraid of flying and it was my first time since my childhood. I never deny John anything related to myself, because I don't mind when he's the one giving the physical contact.

"I…um….I never noticed.." I whispered, getting more and more nervous by the second. I can't just deny him full access to my whole body, I don't want him to stop the small touches every now and then. "John, I'm not completely sure what…love is. Could you, explain it to me, so may asses my own feelings to see if I feel that way back toward you?"

John shifted his weight to his other foot and looked at me curiously. "Seriously?" He asked.

I rolled my eyes. "When have I ever said something I don't entirely mean? To you, at least." I snapped back, beginning to feel embarrassed. He sighed and sat down in his arm chair, then I quickly moved to sit down in mine across from him.

"Well, it's different for everyone, Sherlock. There's no actual, accurate definition." John started, looking slightly embarrassed. Why is he blushing? This is an information exchange.

"Actually, the meaning of love is defined in the dictionary. I believe it reads; 'unselfish loyal and benevolent concern for the good of another' or 'warm attachment, enthusiasm, or devotion' or 'attraction based on sexual desire or affection of lovers' or 'strong affection for another arising out of kinship or personal ties' or 'affection based on admiration, benevolence, or common interests' if I am not mistaken."

"Sherlock, that could be it but it's also not being able to live without that something or someone. Thinking about him or her or it constantly. Concerned for their well being, and always wants the best for them." John remarked back quickly.

I leaned back in my chair and pressed the tips of my fingers together, and brought my hands under my chin, thinking.

Do I love John? I closed my eyes and delved into my mind palace.

Definition number one: unselfish loyal and benevolent concern for the good of another makes sense, I care more for his sake than my own, so that is one way to love John Watson.

Definition number two: warm attachment, enthusiasm, or devotion again, this checks out as well, I believe. I devote my life to this man, he is my best friend, and sometimes, I have times when I'd only talk to John and tune everyone and everything else out. Check to that as well for another way to love John Watson.

Definition number three: attraction based on sexual desire or affection of lovers well, I'd say John was handsome or good-looking, but that'd be an understatement to describe his gorgeous body and mind. I'd have plenty of…racy dreams about John….ravishing me in different ways and…positions. I blushed at this and merely put another check to that way to love John Watson.

Definition number four: strong affection for another arising out of kinship or personal ties I wouldn't say I love him like a brother, as that would make my previous checked definition quite disturbing and a bit not good under many circumstances. I have a strong affection for him, I think, but not as a brother or a family member. I shall not lump him in with Mycroft, whom I barely have any concern for. Uncheck this definition.

Definition number five: affection based on admiration, benevolence, or common interests that makes sense as well. We have the common love for adrenaline and danger, and I certainly admire John for his nerves of steel and bravery. I'd say that logically, based off of the dictionary approach I reciprocate the sentiment.

Though what John had said. I know I cannot live a happy and healthy life without John, and I'd probably end up horribly…well screwed up if I were to put it delicately. I don't think I would survive without him. I always think of John first. Always putting John's well-being first. I scare off girlfriends and potential mates if I know they'd have any intention of hurting my John. I've driven unfaithful women out, I've made over-emotional girls cry and leave forever, and I've made strict, untrusting females quiver with fear at the mention of Sherlock Holmes.

I've only ever had his best intentions at mind, even if I would never tell him I'd driven the girls away intentionally to save him the heartache and frustration of the relationship. I'd say I love him with everything I've had, and I never managed to realize this.

Now, on this day, of all days it had to be Valentine's day, I've realized just how much I want and need John Watson, and the many ways I love him.

I opened my eyes and found it was now dark outside, and John was gone from his armchair across from mine. I sighed and checked the time. I've been in my mind palace for an hour and a half. I ran my fingers through my hair and got up, going to the kitchen to look for Watson. I found a note on the table and read it over quickly.

Sherlock,

I got a call from Sarah, and she needs me at the surgery immediately for some reason.

Be home soon.

I promise, and I hope to have an answer when I walk through that door.

I left at 18:00and should be home by 19:30.

See you then, and you better be home, or I'll be very cross.

-John Watson

I glanced at the clock and it read 18:45. I blinked and ran to the coat rack, slipping on my shoes, coat and scarf.

I have 45 minutes until John goes home. Nearest grocery…oh, across from Angelo's!

I ran out the door, and hurried to the store, then to Angelo's, making it home at 19:40. I panicked and ran up the stair, skipping two steps at a time. Hurry, Sherlock.

I burst into the door of the flat and found John taking off his coat.

"A-Am I too late? When did you get home?" I asked frantically. I hope John isn't mad.

"No? Sherlock I got in about a minute or two ago. Where did you go?" John asked questioningly. I sighed with relief.

"I got you this." I blurted quickly, holding up the bag from the grocery. John eyed me suspiciously and took the bag from my eager hand. He looked in and smiled, chuckling slightly.

"You got milk, an astronomy book, and assorted teas?" John laughed. I frowned. Does he not like it? I nodded hesitantly. He smiled up at me, still laughing quietly. "That's very…thoughtful of you. Why did you do that?" John walked into the kitchen, putting the milk in the fridge and the assorted teas in the cupboard.

"Because I love you too." I replied instantly. I heard him drop everything onto the table and rush over. I smiled to myself, hearing his eager steps. He rushed over, and took hold of my upper arms, pulling me down to meet his height and crashed him lips onto mine. It was in no way soft, or sweet, or hesitant. It was rough, needy and quite heated. Not that I'm complaining. This was everything I dreamed of doing with John, except feeling it was much better than dreaming it up. It felt much better than I imagined. I had to pull away when his steady hands reached for the buttons of my purple shirt.

I stood up straight, pulling away gently, and taking my tongue away from his, which was previously rubbing against my unsure tongue in my own mouth. I looked his face up and down, a smile growing on my features, as well as his own.

"John, I would like to take you." I smiled happily and almost childlike. His face turned read, his eyes bugged out a bit and he started coughing a bit.

"E-Excuse me?" John choked out. I blushed when I realized what he must've thought.

"N-Not like that. If anything, in this relationship, you'd be the one to 'take me' anyways, B-But that's not the point." I retorted quickly, then added. "I want to take you out to dinner…"

"Oh…ah, okay." John replied, a smile once again resurfacing as he put his jacket back on. I smiled. Off to Angelo's.

(to be continued)