Would You Like Some Tea?

by Dammit-Sherlock

Some mindless Jerlock drabble. Not exactly relationship but the hint of one. Involving Sherlock making tea for John... without the poison of course.

"Would you like some tea?"

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Would you like some tea?" John looked over his laptop at his flat-mate, confusion showing clearly on his face.

"When have you ever made me tea? Other than the time you tried to poison me. Are you going to poison me again because I like to be known beforehand this time." It was a lazy afternoon with no cases. After Sherlock had come back, they had a pretty good chance at being inconspicuous, seeing how nobody believed him to be alive anymore, but it was also harder to obtain new clients. They often sat together watching trash shows that John had unfortunately gotten Sherlock addicted to.

"No, I'm not going to poison you. Is it so shocking that I want to do something nice for you? Do you think I just keep you around as a pet?" Sherlock spat out the last word, and his voice turned bitter. "I don't just keep you around for entertainment. I don't keep you around as an experiment to 'observe and classify John Watson'." An eyebrow lifted on the shorter man's face.

"Deep feelings there?" He closed the laptop and stood up, walking into the kitchen to continue the conversation. "What's gotten you in a twist?" The detective met his eyes with a look of frustration.

"Moriarty. He called you my pet. Why am I angry about that?" John gave a look of sympathy, and began to fetch some cups.

"Maybe because it was Moriarty. Maybe you see me one of your friends and not a pet." Sherlock snorted.

"I told you John, I. Don't. Have. Friends." And there it was, that thing that pulled on his emotions. The tiny bit of himself that couldn't deny those words always hurt him. "I only have one friend. A best friend. The best I could ever find." Sherlock turned to him, grasping his shoulders and looked him in the eye. "You are not a pet. You are John. You are my John."

They only pulled away when the kettle began to boil, and spent the night sitting in their usual spots, drinking their usual tea, eating their usual dinner, watching their usual shows, but the little smiles they exchanged every now and then were new.