3 hours later.

Still no sign of Sherlock.

Where could he have gotten to?

I looked down at my watch.

11:58pm.

Where could he be?

Oh God this is all my fault.

I shouldn't have acted that way.

But he loves me.

Sherlock Holmes.

Sherlock bloody smart arse married to his work Holmes.

Loves me.

He loves me.

And I think i'm starting to feel the same way.

No John get your head straight and I mean literally now.
There is no way you could have feelings for Sherlock Holmes.

But he is perfect in every way.

Even his imperfections are perfect.

The way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles that rare, beautiful smile only for me.

The way his voice is deep and smooth like dark velvet chocolate.

The way that he... oh I could go on for ages.

I had to find him.

I grabbed my coat from Sherlock's chair and-

Wait.

Why was it on Sherlock's chair?

I picked it up and noticed it had tear stains on it.

It was rather creased in a way that it looked like it had been... cuddled?

I stared down at the coat in my hands and a felt a single tear roll down my cheek.

Just as I was about to fully breakdown, I heard the front door click open and a familiar sound of Sherlock spluttering.

Now I realised why he had been coughing so much lately.

I felt as if my feet were glued to the floor as I heard him begin to ascend up the stairs.

I quickly threw my coat down back onto his chair and sprinted towards the door, tripping over my feet as I did so.

The door creaked open and in stepped Sherlock looking as pale as ever, his eyes red from crying.

He looked rather taken aback as he found me stood directly in his path and quickly turned away to wipe the access tears forming at the corners of his eyes.

"Oh," he said weakly, "Hello John."

Suddenly out of nowhere he started wheezing violently, holding onto the wall for support.

When he'd finished coughing he stood up straight and looked at me, his pupils slowly dilating when suddenly his eyes darted from side to side and fixed on the item of clothing on his chair.

"I see you found your coat."
He said almost inaudibly.

"Yeah, um I-"

"John I can explain I just-"

"No Sherlock it's fine seriou-"

"I'm sorry John."

He quickly turned to enter his bedroom.

"No Sherlock wait!"

I grabbed his coat sleeve and tugged him gently to face me.

"Where did you go?" I asked softly.

"How is that any of your concern?" He replied bitterly.

"Sherlock I need to know, I was worried sick, I called everyone up asking if they'd seen you walking about anywhere and I was so close to calling the police and then I remembered you don't like the police getting involved with things so I decided against it and called Lestrade and he said he didn't know where you were and he was planning on sending out a search party but I told him no because I know how much you hate the people in his field, especially Anderson, and that you hate large groups and-"

"You... you remember all of those things?"

"Course.
Course I do.
Sherlock you are the saviour of my life, you saved me from my past and before I met you I was so alone and... and I owe you so much.
More than you know."

((A/N Guys help I'm writing this on the bus and someone is trying to look ugh I really want to show them some Johnlock porn fanart so they'll go running and leave me alone))

Tears began to reform in Sherlock's eyes again.

"Sherlock... I love you."

He ran over to me and and wrapped his arms around my body, placing his hands at the small of my back and holding me so tight I could hardly breathe.

But I didn't care.

Our lips attached to one another's in a soft, sweet passionate kiss filled with love, affection and lust.

The kiss tasted like Sherlock, sweet like honey, but also mixed with the salty tears that we were both not even trying to hold back.

Sherlock deepened the kiss and nervously swiped his tongue against my bottom lip asking for permission.

I parted my lips granting him access and our tongues explored each other's mouths with a feeling of what could only be described as undoubtable, desperate love.

I suddenly felt Sherlock begin to walk backwards, slowly unbuttoning my shirt as he did and leading me into his bedroom without breaking the kiss.

As we reached his bed we both laid down in the middle of it, still not breaking the kiss as he slid my shirt and jeans off.

He didn't go any further than that which was okay by me because I didn't want just sex from him right now, I only wanted his love.

When I was stripped down to only my red and white underwear, I rolled sherlock on top of me and began to unbutton his deep purple shirt, running my hands gently down his smooth, pale and surprising muscular chest.

As I reached his trousers I fiddled around with the rim of them and slowly pulled them down until he could push them off with his socked feet.

We broke away from the kiss rather breathlessly, and stared into each other's eyes for ten minutes, whispering passages of love against each other's skin, before getting into the covers and lying down on our sides, with Sherlock spooning me from behind, his long legs tucked around my thighs and his socked feet resting on my bare ones.

We fell asleep like that until late in the morning the next day, and little did we know that that would be the day our lives would begin to change forever.