You Don't Get It

"Damn it Sherlock! You can't just keep throwing yourself in danger, again and again."

"Whatever John, that's not important. The case is solved!"

John was trying to make Sherlock understand while they're were in Greg's office. But Sherlock just wasn't getting it.

"You just don't get it! Sherlock, you could of died. If that man took a shot at you two seconds after he did, he would have killed you!"

"So?! Even if I had died, the case of would of still been solved!"

John sighed, "Sherlock! Listen to me; I don't want you dead!"

"Why not? Everyone else does."

"I don't care about everyone else. I care about you."

"Why would you care about a worthless freak like me? John, you're not making any sense.

"You don't get it!"

"I get everything, John."

John lowered his voice, frustrated, "No, Sherlock, you don't. That's the point."

"What? What am I supposed to get?" He asked softly.

"I LOVE YOU," John lowered his voice, "Sherlock..."

Sherlock remained silent.

"I am so fucking in love with you." John cleared, "And if you die, then... I don't know what I'll do." His voice broke.

"John..." Sherlock spoke after a while.

"Sherlock, just leave it. I know you're not capable of emotions."

"No, John. I-I... love you too."

"Really?" He asked shocked.

"Of course I do, you idiot!"

"I guess we're just a pair of idiots then. I am so mad at you, Sherlock!" John yelled.

"I am so turned on right now."

Johns eyes were fuming with anger and a bit of recently added lust.

They were both still stood in Lestrades office at this change of event.

John moved forward towards Sherlock and made it that the consulting detectives butt was at the edge of the DI's desk.

"I can tell." John stared down at Sherlocks bulging crotch and paid full attention to it for the next few minutes.