"Tea."
"Sher, I'm reading the paper!"
"Anything not boring?"
"Er,"
"Yes?"
"I'm reading, hold on!"
...
"Massacre in-"
"Boring, next!"
"I wasn't finished yet!"
"I can always guess the headlines."
"No, you can't."
"Usually."
"Right, where is this economic downturn?"
"I deleted it."
"You didn't, you couldn't have, the news only broke this morning."
"I did. Mycroft bothered me about it yesterday."
"Will you please stop bobbing about? I am trying to read the newspaper - oof!"
"Now you aren't."
"Yes, Sher, I am."
"But you can't now."
"You bloody-git! You've squashed me and the bloody newspaper!"
"It's not my fault you're small."
"I AM NOT- small. Sherlock, get off."
"Why?"
"Why? Because you're bloody squashing me! Look, I'll make you tea."
"I'm rather comfortable at present."
"No, you're not."
"I might fall asleep."
"People will really talk about this one."
"People do little else. Besides, as I have came to the conclusion that we are in a relationship, I do not see why their little opinions matter."
"Sherlock- get off me."
"I'd rather discuss this while you are immobile, if we are to discuss this at all, so that I can have your full attention."
"Start discussing then."
"We live together. We solve crimes together."
"Yes, and have been for three years. Your point?"
"I..."
...
"You're still squashing me."
"I want..."
"You said you drew a conclusion that we were - are in a relationship?"
"Well, aren't we?"
"Sherlock-"
"You haven't brought a girlfriend home in... It's going on eleven months, eight days, fourteen-"
"Right." John scratched his head with the hand that wasn't pinned under Sherlock, trying to come up with a reply for that. Sherlock was right.
"You make me tea. You clean the flat. You make my bed for me."
"That's not acting like a boyfriend, it's almost as if I'm your nanny."
"What is the difference? You love me and do things for me, and that is what this is all about."
John, you are very thick. Said a little voice inside John's brain. You have known it all along, since you killed for him. You knew all along, all those women, you were stalling for time, in denial. He cleared his voice before he started speaking again, unsure of what exactly to say.
"The difference, Sher, is that I do those things because I'm worried about you and your massive intellect exploding. I worry, I do, that you're going to run out of the house without any food and come back late to a cold bed and a dirty flat."
"Then you do love me."
"Yes, I do."
"Then, what is the difference?"
"This," said John, closing the difference and pressing his lips gently against Sherlock's, "is the difference." The difference between friendship and a relationship. The difference between being brothers in arms and being lovers. The difference between being a loving and caring boyfriend and being a caretaker.
"Now you really must get off me," he said, before kissing Sherlock again, "you've squashed me flat."