John brushed a few breadcrumbs from his collar. Sherlock had taken up intently staring at John throughout breakfast, and it was staring to make him uncomfortable. He figured it was time to discuss the elephant in the room.

"Sherlock, I wanted to say a few things. But you can't interrupt, or deduce anything while I'm talking. Deal?"

Sherlock nodded nervously. 

"John, just before you start, I was hoping to deduce you once. It is my failsafe, you know, and if I don't, I fear that I will become extremely anxious and be incapable to process even an ounce of what you are about to say."

John laughed fondly.

"Go ahead. I don't suppose there'll be anything you're not already aware of."

Sherlock's eyes whizzed up and down John's body, dancing over his face, and staring lovingly into his own eyes for a brief moment. John felt like he was being visually undressed. As Sherlock's marvelous eyes came to a stop, he started speaking his deductions in a nervous, almost desperate way.

"You're anxious for this conversation, not merely because of the situation. You did not wish to reconsider your sexuality, however, your body language suggests that you may do so...for me. You also seem rather nervous to break the news to the public, including the Yard, which of course does not need to be done immediately. They will, however, find out eventually. Additionally, you don't appear to be particularly nervous for the sexual part of this relationship, if there will be one, as you seem to be certain that you will top. While I am extremely happy, as I prefer to receive, you may mind that the mechanics are slightly different."

Sherlock finished his deductions with an accentuated 't', and lay back in his chair, blushing gently. 

"Pardon me, John, that was one more deduction than I was expecting. I hope I haven't deterred you in any way?"

John bit his lip, but failed to keep out the laughter. 

"Sherlock, see, this is why I didn't want you deducing anything. That's pretty much all I wanted to say, minus the...other stuff. So...yeah. What do you think?"

Sherlock looked confused.

"John, if it were up to me we'd no longer be here. Or separate. Or clothed, for that matter. I fully and wholly agree with any conditions you should wish to set, and I hope that once this conversation is done, I shall be permitted to kiss you again."

John burst out laughing, uproariously. He smirked at Sherlock, and his tongue peeked out and swiped his lips. 

"Come over here then, you great git."

Sherlock positively jumped up and towards to John. He settled in John's lap comfortably, and John leaned in pecked the detective's lips. Sherlock replied gleefully, attacking John's lips so hard that the doctor was thrown back against the back of his chair. They wrestled with each other, each giving back as good as he got. John felt like he was drowning in Sherlock. He could smell him, and taste him, and feel his hands desperately grasping at his shirt front. It was delicious. 

John and Sherlock were so wrapped in each other, that they didn't notice the door opening and Lestrade walking in. He stopped, and stared amazedly at the scene in front of him. He cleared his throat once, and when the lovebirds didn't hear him, he cleared it again, obnoxiously loud. 

John and Sherlock separated, and Sherlock turned magenta. Even John laughed at that, although he himself was now resembling a kind of strawberry. 

"Thanks, you lot, you've destroyed the betting pool. Anderson and Donovan were 50 quid against this ever happening. I was just wondering which of you tossers would move first."

Sherlock put his hands on his hips defiantly.

"Well, I'll have you know, Graham, that it was me. I moved first."

"It's Greg, Sherlock. Sorry, Greg."

"Not a problem. Anyway, if you're done breathing down each other's throats, I've got a case. It's got to be a seven, at least. Old lady found dead on the beach, surrounded by some twenty cats. Interested?"

Sherlock grinned at Lestrade. Turning to John, he said:

"Hurry up then, John. The game is on!"