A/N Hello! This is a fanfic dedicated to my awesomely talented friend Dion, who ships Johnlock like there's no tomorrow so here and enjoy!
When you're John Watson, it takes a lot to surprise you. The doctor had been through a lot; in fact a lot would be an understatement. Now that he had Sherlock Holmes back in his life things had gotten more…well, active. Twice already John had woken up to the screeching sound of his violin. Four or five times John has shouted at him for using up all the milk (Which usual ended in John storming out and slamming the door as loud as he could) and he had lost the amount of times John had come home to find Sherlock setting some form of the flat on fire.
sSsSsSsS
John came home from the clinic as usual. He wanted to get into one of his more comfortable jumpers and get a good, strong mug of tea when he heard it. Sherlock's distinct shout of annoyance which John translated to 'Jawn, Jawn I burnt myself!' but he never dared say that. Why this was Sherlock Holmes! The great indestructible Sherlock Holmes who was a master of self-defence but yet always seemed to burn his finger when moving a class test tube. John sighed, rolling his eyes he opened the door and there true enough was Sherlock cradling his finger and then also the noticeable burn to the table which really did annoy John. With a raised eye brow, John walked over and looked at the finger
"I thought I told you to always keep something to stop the burn, what about those gloves I got you?"
"I like ruffling my hair"
"And you can't do that with gloves on?"
"Well…no" John sighed heavily and a little dramatically but then set to work on attending the detectives finger. John was working away fine, the burn was a minor one and would be easily healed with some cream and that. He didn't have to look up at Sherlock to know that the detective was giving him one of his lopsided grins, in fact he was grinning like a child
"Sherlock you're smiling"
"I know John"
"Why are you smiling? Do you enjoy setting fire to your fingers? Do enjoy setting fire to tables?"
"No John, I love you" John stopped what he was doing. Still refusing to look up
"You love me?"
"I love you"
"As in, feel a certain attraction to me which is more than a friendship?"
"And you call me the specific one?" John let out a soft chuckle
"Now Sherlock, I've had a long day and you have yet again set fire to the table which I really do not like, are you being serious?"
"When have you known me to lie?"
"Oh I don't know, maybe the time you lied about faking your death?" Sherlock frowned
"That wasn't my fault" John looked up at him, frowning but a smile breaking
"I still love you" John looked at him and then kissed the finger better
"Then I like you too" the two held eye contact which seemed like forever but was actually only a minute. John let his fingers slip through Sherlock's hair and let a chuckle escape him
"I see why you like running your fingers through your hair" Sherlock chuckled, his body vibrating against Johns
"I can pay for the table" John smiled and bumped his nose of Sherlock's
"For some strange reason Sherlock Holmes, I seem to find that I love you too"
"What a strange occurrence" John laughed, that laugh was engraved in Sherlock's mind palace, and it was stored in a place that was never going to fade away. Not once, and along with that laugh there was a smile. Not just any old smile, but John Watson's smile when he was in his favourite jumper and talking about hedgehogs, that was the John Hamish Watson that Sherlock knew and Sherlock loved.