Sherlock woke in the early morning, the only sound was the slow movement of the water through the pipes and the flickering of the lamp post outside. John was there. Curled up against his side, naked except for that black and white striped shirt. Sherlock came to find that this shirt was his favorite, it hung loosely on John's frame and its design was nothing special, but it held sudden significance to Sherlock. This was weird, having sentiment for something. That wasn't Sherlock, never had been, and he never thought it would. He was asexual, alone, untouchable. Until John came and changed everything. He opened up a hunger in Sherlock, that was thought impossible by Sherlock, let alone others.

He pulled himself gently from John's grip around his waist and pulled the duvet up over the almost bare man's shoulders. He led himself into the kitchen, grabbing a biscuit from the tin, and starting the kettle for tea.

"Sherlock?" John screamed. There he was again, in that cage, the Hound circling him getting closer.

"Sherlock?" His voice broke on the 'lock'.

"Sorry, John. Busy." He heard Sherlock say in the distance.

"But, you, you. You said you loved me!" John whimpered back.

"Boring." He heard Sherlock reply in that cold, monotone voice he would pick up when dealing with someone petty or of small intellect, like Anderson.

"Sherlock!"

John shot upright in bed, the covers falling from him and revealing his bare legs. He glanced around frantically, but Sherlock was no where to be seen. His smell filled John's consciousness, but where was he?

Sherlock was sitting in his chair, sipping on his tea, when John came stumbling into the living room. He had half-way tugged on some trousers and his eyes were red-rimmed.

"John?" Sherlock said with concern, setting his tea down. "John whats wrong?"

Before he could stand up John was there, climbing into his lap and wrapping his arms around Sherlock's slender neck. He heaved sobs into Sherlock's shoulder and all Sherlock could do was slowly stroke comforting circles into John's back.

"John?" He asked tenderly again after a few minutes.

John let out a shaky breath then looked up into Sherlock's silver eyes. Sherlock stared down with patience. Normally he couldn't stand crying people. They were always too emotional and impossible to get information out of, but this was John, his John and he felt a pull at his heart as John's deep blue eyes stared into his.

"Sherlock."

"Yes, John?"

"Sherlock, you can't leave me."

"John, I only went to start the t-"

"No!" John's sudden outburst caused Sherlock to reel back, not knowing where this sudden irrational anger was coming from.

"No," John said much more quietly."No, you have to...you have to promise me. You have to promise me you'll never leave."

"Leave where, John?" Sherlock asked gently, still not understanding John's line of thought.

John shook his head, only Sherlock could be so utterly daft. "Sherlock," he started quietly, finally pulling himself together. "I gave myself to you last night. That was a huge step for me and...and I can't have you throw that away for something more interesting, no matter how ordinary I may be." John echoed Sherlock's words from last night with a sadness in his voice and watched as the genius Holmes clicked things into place.

"John. Oh my John." Sherlock whispered pulling John closer so that John was nuzzling his face against Sherlock's soft curls. "John, I will never find you ordinary. You're the first,the only person who can make me feel like this, feel this... emotion, and if you leave me I...I don't-" Sherlock was cut off as John's lips sealed against his. His teeth pulling on Sherlock's lower lips begging for entrance. Sherlock complied, his mouth opening and their tongues meeting.

After a few moments John pulled them apart, staring intently at Sherlock for a moment. Then he leaned up and breathed his hot breath into Sherlock's ear. "Thank you."

This sent a shiver down Sherlock's spine and un-timingly pulling a twitch from his cock. Instead of getting offended Sherlock felt John smirk against his ear and then suddenly John was thrusting his hips against Sherlock's, arousal grinding against arousal.

"Jo-h-h-n." Sherlock groaned, thrusting back up to meet John's movements. John met Sherlock with a rough kiss and then continued down the edge of Sherlock's jaw, down his throat where he pulled hard at the skin, making sure Sherlock would be reminded to keep his promise, that he was John's.

Sherlock only pulled John closer, his hands gripping tightly to John's back and he lolled his head to the side, giving John more access to his neck. This was perfect, this was John, and this was something Sherlock was never going to let go