I need you to pick something up on your way home. -JW
What would that be? -SH
Milk. -JW
We have milk, mrs. Hudson got us some. -SH
It's 2% -JW
We have always had 2%, John. -SH
I need lactose free skim milk. -JW
I hate it. -SH
Rubbish. You have never had it. -JW
Yes I did, once all we had was skim milk mrs Hudson had given us. It was repulsing. -SH
Thats skim milk. This is different. -JW
How? -SH
It's sweeter, like 2%. Only with less fat. -JW
Is this what this is about, then? -SH
What? -JW
The fat? You don't need to lose weight John. Your body is perfect. -SH
No it's not about the fat, I just like the taste. -JW
Ill get it, but I'm not going to drink it. -SH
Did you just say my body is perfect? -JW
I got the milk. -SH
Sherlock, did you just imply you find my body attractive. -JW
On my way home. -SH
I can feel you blushing from here. -JW
Down stairs. -SH
Sherlock walked up the stairs and into the kitchen, setting down the paper bag and starting to take things out. John slowly stalked into the kitchen, walking to stand by his flat mate. Sherlock took out the milk, setting it in front of John. John took out two cups and filled then with small amounts.
"Here, drink this." John said handing the cup to Sherlock.
"I will not drink your fake milk."
"Drink it."
"No, you simply can't make me."
"Ill let you play your violin all night with out me yelling at you to sleep."
Sherlock grabbed the cup and took a small sip. He looked down at the cup like it was the most beautiful think in the world, taking another huge sip. Once he was done he looked at John gingerly, "That was... Okay."
John laughed taking a sip of his milk, walking away.