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John was looking at Sherlock's sleeping form, who was still completely stoned by the sedative that Irene Adler gave him few hours before.
He wasn’t pleased that the detective was currently lost to the world… but he gives him time to think.
About his reaction when he saw Sherlock talking with a naked beautiful woman; His own uneasiness in front of the woman when he should have, at least as a doctor, be over that!; Her teasing ‘Somebody loves you, why if I had to punch that face, I’d avoid your nose and teeth too.’
Am I in love with Sherlock? Is it possible? But… I’m not gay! I don’t understand!
He thought about his time in the army, about a few alcohol induced experiences. Being honest for once, he admitted for the first time. I am bi…
But what about him? I saw him standing in those damn snug trousers and he wasn’t… responding… to Adler’s nakedness. But he did catch her measurements…
But it’s only observation and mathematics for him, no?
Is he able to… love in a romantic way? Man or woman? Either Adler or… Moriarty? No! He can't fall for that criminal! He’s better than that! But can he love… me?
Jealousy was spreading in John, like a poison.
He left the room suddenly unable to breathe...