"Wake up sleepyhead." A voice crooned above me. I stirred, tangled up in my sheets. I wanted to just pull the blankets above my head and go back to sleep, but there was a hand holding them down. When I opened my eyes, I saw the familiar face of Sherlock smiling down at me. 'Oh god, We have another case.' I groaned.
"Let me just sleep." I said in a growl, trying to pull the blankets over my head again. Sherlock just laughed.
"Come on, John. Wakey wakey." I rolled my eyes and looked up at Sherlock suspiciously. He was practically smirking at me. Did I have something on my face? Surely not. Must be a case.
"So what is it this time? Thief in Cardiff? Murder in London?" I asked, sitting up. My hair was sticking up in a bunch of places, so I moved to fix that. I don't know why I felt so self conscious when he was in my room.
Sherlock laughed again. It sounded so musical. "There are no cases today. I've turned off my phone." Now I was awake. My eyes were probably bugging out of my head. He wasn't accepting any cases today AND he turned off his phone? Was he sick?
"What do you- I-"
"Come with me, Watson." Sherlock grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the bed. I stumbled into his arms for a minute, getting my legs steady. My cheeks flushed and I quickly turned around, moving around to straighten out my bed.
"C-Come with you, to where?"
"Are you stuttering?"
"Of course not. Where are we going?"
"You look nervous, John." He responded, stepping towards me.
I refused to face him by now. I knew he would spout some nonsense about how my posture meant indicated that I was nervous, or how my eyebrows being furrowed meant that I was thinking about what was wrong with him. Yeah, that would be true, but I didn't want him to read me so easily. "Why would I look nervous?" I asked, moving into the bathroom to shave.
He followed me in. "You tell me." He responded, smirking. I rolled my eyes. He was being mysterious again. If he had his coat on, his collar would be up.
I shaved and began to brush my teeth. After I spit out some toothpaste, I turned to face him. With my toothbrush still in my hand, I pointed at him. "You're being weird today. Why are you being weird today?"
"How am I being weird?"
"You're grinning stupidly and you won't take any cases!" I retorted, moving so I could wipe the toothpaste off of my face. Then I moved back into my room so I could get dressed for the day. I went to my closet and started to pull out my stripped shirt, but Sherlock stopped me.
"We aren't going anywhere today," He said.
"I have work, Sherlock," I said.
"I called you in sick." I turned to glare at him. If he called me in sick (when I had no more sick days) how could I be expected to earn us money to pay for the flat? "Come on, I have some things set up." He took my hand and pulled me into the living room.
On the table was a game of chess. "Play with me." He said, looking at me expectantly. I raised my eyebrows and moved over to the board. I couldn't be expected to play against him and win.
"Sherlock-"
"Please." He had this look on his face that I couldn't turn down. I groaned and sat down on the black side of the board. He was grinning at me. I picked up the first piece and moved it forward. "Now come on, John. You can do better than that." He said, making my eyes narrow.
I moved the piece back and tried to move another one. "There." I muttered, crossing my arms childishly.
"Now, that just makes you look like Anderson!"
"Shut up and make your play." I growled, leaning back in my seat.
Sherlock won in four moves.
Next, he wanted to play Hide and Seek. He wanted to be 'It' too. I told him, "You can't play with just two people." So he told me to hide his skeleton, too. He found the both of us in under a minute, which made me roll my eyes.
We spent the entire day playing childish games where Sherlock could beat me in five minutes or less. We stopped at around six o'clock when Sherlock dragged me into the kitchen. He put on a white apron and began to cook.
I was shocked for many reasons. One being, I didn't know Sherlock could cook. Another being that I still had no idea what the purpose of today was.
He told me to sit down while he cooked. I looked at what it was before I did. It was spaghetti noodles.
During that half hour of cooking, Sherlock talked to me. He told me about his life. He spoke of Mycroft, his mother, and even how he came to Baker Street. Could this day get any more strange? Apparently so.
He got a white sheet and put it on the table, then grabbed two white candles and placed them in the middle. He served us both a plate of spaghetti, and got us beverages. Water.
He sat down across from me and smiled, starting to eat his food. "Sherlock..." I started, looking at him curiously. This was more than just a friendly dinner, wasn't it?
"Hmm?"
"What is all this for..?" I asked, gesturing to the really nice dinner. I felt uncomfortable. I didn't like Sherlock like that. Did he have feelings for me? More questions posed in my head just moments after. Why was my heart beating so quickly? Why was I feeling so nervous? Why did my hands shake? My hands never shook.
Sherlock didn't look at me. He spun his fork around the noodles, as if it was the most important thing in the world. "It's my birthday..." He muttered, peaking up a moment later, looking almost bashful.
I stared at him in shock. "It's your... you're... Sherlock, why didn't you just say so?" He had already turned back to his plate, so he could chew his food. He seemed to have gotten himself under control though, because he was smiling again. He didn't respond to my question. "Sherlock.."
"I think the noodles are a bit mushy, don't you?" He asked, looking up at me with a smirk.
I blushed and turned down to my noodles, realizing I hadn't taken a bite yet. I picked up my fork and started to eat, very aware of him watching my every move. We ate just like that, in silence, while the candles flickered around us.
When we were finished, I picked up the plates and brought them to the sink so I could start washing them. I turned on the faucet, but seconds later Sherlock's hands wrapped around my waist. I felt his breath on my ear. "Save that for later." He muttered.
I turned around, realizing how close we were. My eyes widened and I felt far more nervous than I ever had before. "Wh-what?" I stuttered, before having to clear my throat.
"I said, save that for later." He leaned in close to me, placing his thumb under my chin so he could tilt my head towards his. His face slowly inched towards mine and I grew redder. My thoughts were racing and my face was hot. I could feel the heat in my ears. When his lips were so close to touching mine, he chuckled. "April Fools Day.~" He crooned, before he pulled away.
Without another word, he left the room. I could still feel the part on my lips where his accidentally grazed against mine.