"I'm going to make myself a cup of tea," Sherlock said to John as he stared out the window in their flat. He turned around. "Would you like one?"
"I would love a cuppa," John said, glancing up from where he was seated in the armchair, typing on his laptop.
Sherlock made his way into the kitchen without a word. He put on the kettle, got two mugs from the cabinet along with two tea bags, then waited for he water to boil. Once the whistle blew, he poured the steaming water into the mugs and poured a bit of milk into John's. He returned to the room, giving John his mug.
"Thank you, Sherlock," John said, taking a sip, "Any special reason you're suddenly making tea?"
Sherlock stood by the window again. He had a few sips before responding. "I would like to disclose something to you, John. I decided that tea would make the conversation a bit more friendly."
John closed his laptop and set it aside. "Conversation?" John asked disbelievingly, "You've been staring quietly out of the window for upwards of an hour. Not to mention you seem perfectly adept at holding conversation with me already, whether I'm in the area code or not."
"Yes," Sherlock said, slowly nodding his head. He paused for a moment and took another sip before continuing. "John, I do not plan on staying in London much longer."
"Oh?" John said, his eyebrow rose, "Where do you plan on going? I doubt we'd find a better flat price than with Mrs. Hudson."
"I have been discussing it with Mycroft. He found a small house in Sussex. I like it, and will probably buy it." He was quiet. "I do not think that I would want to live without you, John."
John is taken aback for a moment. "Sussex doesn't seem like it'd have as much action for you as central London. You know how you get when you're bored," he said, a small smile on his face as he nodded towards the other face that was always smiling at them.
"You know how my legs have been," he said. The first steps he took in the morning were getting more and more painful each day. Arthritis was causing them to deteriorate, and quickly. It was no coincidence that he was taking more and more cases that he could solve without leaving the flat. "I can take at-home cases like I do now."
"So you want us to move to Sussex?" John clarified. He knew that he must sound thick to Sherlock, but it was a pretty big change to wrap his head around. John couldn't imagine life not living with Sherlock, but it was also hard to imagine life outside of this flat.
"Yes." He turned to look at John. "But not without you." He stared straight ahead and quickly muttered, "I love you."
John stood and walked over to where Sherlock was standing. Wrapping his arms around the other's thin waist from behind, he smiled. "I love you too."
Sherlock put down his tea on the table beside him. He awkwardly draped his arms over John's shoulders. "I suspected." He looked down at John's mug. "Don't spill any on me."
"Have you ever known my hands to shake?" John answered cheekily. Nonetheless, he placed his cup on the table beside Sherlock's.
"No," he replied. "But still." He rested his head on John's shoulders, rocking from side to side. For a long time, he had wanted an embrace such as this from him. He didn't want to seem too sappy or emotional, but eventually, he was convinced it was worth it to explain his sentiments towards John, especially if he wanted him to leave his life in London.
"So when should I start packing?" John said, tilting his head up with a smile.
"Mycroft can have everything settled in a week or so." He ran a hand through John's hair. "So as soon as possible. I promise I will not be so bored that there will be bullets in the wall."
John shook his head, chuckling, "I still can't believe you wasted my bullets in the wall."
"You can always buy new ones," he said, then pressed a kiss to John's forehead. "Come on. Let's start packing."