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Summary
Sherlock stomped up the steps, determined to make as much noise as possible and to be such a nuisance that the repairman would eventually flee the premises. He flung the door open, letting it bounce off the adjacent wall, and he opened his mouth to say something rude, and—
And the repairman was the most attractive man he had ever seen. He stood there, in the kitchen, his too-tight T-shirt clinging to him over a fine sheen of sweat. His hair was sticking up a bit where he’d run his hands through it. It was a military haircut, Sherlock noticed, which fit with the overall stature of this man. He was strong and held himself like a soldier, and Sherlock had always loved a military man, and, damn, he was staring.
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Or, John is a repairman at 221B, and Sherlock is infatuated.