"Why do you love me, Sherlock?" John asked. His tone was casual but the nervousness in his voice could not be hidden, not from Sherlock, at least. He knew this was important to him. John was like an open book, every little emotion that passed through his heart rippled in his eyes.

Sherlock felt protectiveness crash through him in waves, he actually pulled the covers close to ward off the chill and wrapped his arms around John, kissing the back of his neck warmly, hoping that it was answer enough.

John moaned and squirmed but then he stiffened, turning back and locking Sherlock's greys with his blues, "No really, why?" he shrugged.

Sherlock cupped his face in his hands, kissing the corner of his eyes and tasting his tears. "I love you because you are home. You are warm and you are a part of me that I lost ages ago. A part that I'll never get back. You are my childhood - innocence and trust - you are something that was gone so long ago that I don't even have a faint memory of it."

"I love you because you are a friend first and lover later. Because I could spend evenings discussing tobacco ash with you as easily as I could spend them making love to you. You are like my violin, I can't remember ever not being able to play it. The moment I gripped the bow and felt the strings strain under my touch, I knew we were meant to be, in the same way that when I held you in my arms and felt your lips on mine, it was as if we had forever been like that."

"Romantic and sentimental connotations apart, I love you because of your little things. Your utter fascination with the presence of enough milk in the fridge. Your liking towards jam and jumpers is almost a competition to me. You ensure that I get fed. More than anything else, you are someone I would allow taking care of me."

John looked at him with big blue innocent eyes, Afghanistan peeled away and pure childish innocence sparkling in their depth.

"I am not...a genius," he said, his voice small and head bowed down, betraying what was really bothering him.

"And genius isn't everything," Sherlock smiled, lifting his face up.

"Never thought you'd say that..."John said, tucking himself into Sherlock's neck.

"Yeah, I never thought I would either," Sherlock said, drawing him closer.

This was home. And no amount of words could express that it was lovely.