There is nothing wrong with you

Sherlock irrelatively sighs. It will be great if someone at last dies or steals something or commits suicide or kills someone at least. But there is nothing.

Nothing, because Sherlock after the returning to life from his "death" can not investigate in the usual manner (bursts into the crime scene, breaking every rules, because Scotland Yard needs him). From the police only Lestrade knows that Sherlock Holmes is actually alive and he realizes why it is important to keep that information in secret. But this means that Sherlock can interfere only in the really tough cases.

And that makes the Consulting Detective bored. So very very booored.

He yawns and rubs his cheek, lying on the sofa. Then Sherlock turns his face to see what his friend doing.

Interesting.

John Watson sits, typing something on the laptop; the white cup stands near him, the cup with rough black tea. Without sugar.

But Sherlock's attention has been caught not because of tea.

Sherlock jerkily stands up and in two steps finds himself in front of John.

The doctor raises his gaze to look at Sherlock.

"What's wrong?"

The detective stares at John, leaning closer. "What are you doing?"

Watson shifts himself from Sherlock and answers puzzled.

"I am reading an article."

Sherlock shakes his head irritated. "What are you eating?"

John glances at his hand. "A lollipop."

"What is lollipop?"

"It's a candy…Wait, you seriously do not know what the lo…Oh, why am I surprised, you are the man who knows nothing about the Solar System."

The detective frowns. "Forget about your System at last, it's not important." He sits on his knees in front of John's armchair. "So it's a candy. Then why is it on the stick?"

John tiredly hides his head in hands. "Why am I always telling you about normal human things?"

"The same I can say about you. I always explain you obvious."

John sighs. "It is a bit different, you know. I…"

He freezes as Sherlock's face appears some inches from his own. "W-what the hell?"
"Is it tasty? " the detective asks, paying no attention to his friend's confusion. "This candy stuff. Is it tasty?"

Sherlock moves forward and licks the lollipop. After a second he runs his tongue over lips, analyzing.

John blames himself silently, because he feels a pleasant excitement in his stomach as he watches Sherlock's face so close to his own.

"Like it?"

"Nope."

John chuckles. "Sherlock Holmes, is there anything in this Universe that can satisfy you? I mean except the violent murders of course?"  

Sherlock grins and sits on the armrest. "Certainly. Robbers, kidnappers, blackmails, Mycroft's announce and." He pauses and in his eyes shine. "You."

John's face crosses a smile, but he tries to hide it. "Me? I am ordinary. And stupid. Your own words, by the way."

Sherlock sighs. "Of course you are. But you are John Watson. My only friend. The person who can bear all my experiments and_"

"Idiotically things that you do with your health and body."

"They are not idiotically. Words can kill, you know that?"

"I am a doctor, so don't worry."

"You care about me. And_"

He stops suddenly, biting his lower lip, trying to put himself together. John pats Sherlock's upper arm.

"Sherl_"

"You love me."

Sherlock peers into John's blue eyes. These eyes always amaze him. Eyes of the soldier which are still kind, still have a hint of never-ending care.   

Ex-army doctor smiles gently. "Yes, Sherlock I do."

He leans to John and puts his head on his shoulder. He likes the warmth of John's body, the smell of his hair.

"Is something wrong with me?"

Watson glides his hand down Sherlock's curls. "Why do you think so?"

"I've never felt anything to anyone. Even to Irene Adler. In her case it was a competition of minds. But now I can not explain what I feel to you."

John closes his eyes. "Are you happy? Can you feel happiness right now?"

Sherlock hesitates for a second. "Even more then when I have an interesting case."

Watson laughs quietly and curls his hand around Sherlock's waist. "How nice to hear."

Sherlock chuckles and his warm breath touches John's neck.

"Than it is nothing wrong with you Sherlock Holmes. You are just in love."