John Watson: Do you just carry on talking when I'm away?
Sherlock Holmes: I don't know, how often are you away?
- Episode 2.1, "A Scandal in Belgravia"
A/N: Based on a prompt by waitfortheawesomeness on Tumblr.
Sherlock was acting strangely.
John normally dragged him out for dinner somewhere after a case, but yesterday when John had returned, Sherlock said he'd already eaten. The half-empty pizza box and complete lack of pizza in any of the bins had seemed to corroborate Sherlock's story.
This morning, John came downstairs to find Sherlock already awake and dressed in a pressed shirt and trousers rather than his usual dressing gown.
John asked about tea and received no response (which wasn't unusual), but he made an extra cup with one sugar (no milk), and plunked it in Sherlock's hands before sitting in his own chair.
Sherlock was staring at the wall, but rather than the flickering patterns of concentration or frustration John would have expected, his entire body was devoid of expression.
John narrowed his eyes. "Right. Out with it," he said.
Sherlock sipped his tea, his demeanor unchanged. "I don't know what you mean."
"I'm not an idiot, Sherlock."
Sherlock exhaled derisively through his nose.
So it was like that, then. Here we go. "You ate voluntarily rather than waiting for me to force you. You're wearing actual clothing, but we don't have a case. And you just drank tea with one sugar instead of two, without complaining."
Sherlock shot him an accusing look, then sat back and took a gulp of tea. "Boring."
"You're upset about something," John said. "So tell me what it is."
"You already know, John. Think," Sherlock bit out. His voice sounded bitter and dry, nowhere close to the thrilled, mildly patronizing tone he usually employed for such requests.
John pinched the bridge of his nose and took a few calming breaths. "Let's say, for the sake of argument, that I've missed something obvious. Would you mind telling me what it is?"
"You know emotions are… tedious for me, John. I revealed something and you didn't even acknowledge it."
John pursed his lips. "When did I do that?"
Sherlock waved his right hand in the air as if attempting to be flippant. "Two days ago."
"Erm… Sherlock? I was in Cardiff for two days. I came back yesterday."
John watched the change come over Sherlock, watched his mouth slacken. "Oh." He sat up straighter and sipped his tea, composing himself. "Right, then. Well, whose fault was that? I told you not to go."
"Right… then," John repeated, bewildered. "It was a conference, Sherlock, I had to go." He tried to keep his voice level. "Do I, erm… Do I get to know what it was I was supposed to have acknowledged?"
Sherlock set down his teacup and looked at John. "I told you I… cared for you."
John stared at his friend. Why would Sherlock be so upset about something like this? He was childish, and his ego was gigantic, but… Oh. "That's not what you said, is it?" John asked.
Sherlock scowled. "The phrasing is unimportant."
John had known about Sherlock's feelings for him for months now, almost since his return. The detective could be ridiculously obvious when he wasn't paying attention. But the fact that he had said it aloud like that…
"Sherlock. I love you, too."
Sherlock's gaze darted away. "Yes. Well."
John cleared his throat. "In the romantic sense," he clarified.
Sherlock looked up sharply.
John stood, hoping to escape his friend's scrutiny. "More tea?" He offered politely. "Two sugars this time?"
Sherlock stared at him intensely, then stalked toward him. A bright grin stretched his mouth and drew lovely lines over his features. "I think I'd like to snog you now," he said.
When they finally separated minutes later, they were giggling like at a crime scene.
A/N: Thank you for reading! :) Comments (negative and positive) are author food. :)