"John?" Sherlock asked on a quiet, deep voice.
"Sherlock?" John answered sleepily after a few moments of silence.
"Can you sleep?" Sherlock pushed himself up and leaned on his elbow, supporting his head.
"No..." John said, letting go a sigh with that. "Not anymore anyways." He rolled over and faced Sherlock.
It had been one of those nights when John had had a nightmare, and Sherlock came to calm him down. Sherlock didn't mind staying in John's bedroom for the night, being too tired to go back at first. As he was laying there, next to John, he felt something that didn't let him fall asleep.
"John," Sherlock started again, gazing into John's eyes that caught the slight light coming in from the window. "I've had this strange feeling lately," he stated awkwardly. "In my stomach, it feels tickling and so wonderful but uncomfortable at the same time." He took a short pause. "I have been debating over it for a while now, but i can't seem to find out what is wrong with me."
John was amazed. "Nothing's wrong with you, Sherlock." He said, smiling slightly, still just a tad shocked. "You're in love."
Sherlock rose his eyes from the bedsheet he had been staring at for some time now. "Me?" he asked rhetorically and his head dropped on the pillow, turning himself on his back. The ceiling had never seemed so interesting before. "Who can i possibly be in lo-" he started debating, half-whispering. "Oh... Oh..." with a sudden movement he turned his head towards John.
"What?" John asked with a slight chuckle.
"Nevermind," Sherlock replied laconically and closed his eyes. "Good night, John."
"Good night, Sherlock," John said and shook his head in confusion, smiling to himself and pretty soon, falling asleep.