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One-one-thousand, two-one-thousand.
John Watson times his steps to match the ticking seconds of the clock.
Three-one-thousand, four-one-thousand... His sock feet pad quietly along the floor. Only three sounds fill the empty room. The first one is the clock. It ticks, second by second, minute by minute, until Sherlock comes home. Tick...tick...tick. The second sound is the sound of his feet on the floor. Pit-pat...pit-pat. The third, and loudest, is the beating of his heart inside his chest. Tick...tick...pit-pat...thump. He awaits the fourth and final sound: the sound of the front door opening, and the tall man's footsteps as he comes into the house.
Tonight is the night. John's had enough of the waiting-and-wishing-and-hoping nonsense he's been so used to. Tonight, he's going to tell Sherlock how he feels. That is, if Sherlock hasn't deduced that already. He wants to look Sherlock in the eyes and tell him what he's kept hidden for so long. Sherlock, I love you. I want to be with you. I want you. He wants to tangle his fingers into that curly, dark hair. He wants Sherlock's kiss. He wants his lips, his skin, his warmth. Everything.
He can picture it now. Sherlock would walk in, take off his scarf, unbutton his coat. John would take him gently by the arm, tell him how much he loves him, and pull Sherlock in for a kiss. He'd be coy at first; soft and gentle. Sherlock would resist for a moment, trying to make sense of all of this, but then he'd surrender and start kissing back.
He can feel Sherlock's hands all over him, running up and down his back, taking hold of his biceps, reaching over and touching against his chest. John shivers excitedly at the thought. He wants to rest his head on Sherlock's chest. He wants to feel the rumble of Sherlock's voice against his skin. Maybe, he will want something more. Maybe Sherlock will ask, beg, long for something more...
Tick, tick...pit-pat, pit-pat...thump...thump. Click. John stops in his tracks. The front door clicks shut, and Sherlock's footsteps come closer and closer, until they drown out John's heartbeat.
The waiting is over. Tonight is the night.