'Tea?'
'Please.'
There was the usual silence between the men as the smaller of the two stood up and sighed in a content way and walked slowly towards the kitchen. The other didn't even bother looking up from his work, and instead smiled discreetly to himself. It was a Sunday, and being floppy and tired was allowed.
Without even giving a glance, he said 'no sugar,' just as the other picked up the sugar pot by the side of the sink. Putting the sugar pot down, he made a mental note of this to himself and smirked slightly. 'Sorry.'
'No need to apologise.' The taller grinned openly now and tapped at the keyboard for a couple more seconds, clicked and shut the lid of his laptop, placing it on the table beside his chair and stretched out, closed his eyes and put his feet out, crossing them and making his legs show their full length.
The other gave a side glance towards his 'colleague', hoping a little that he was looking towards him, but saw the outstretched pair of legs and the tired eyes of the taller and sighed. He'd eaten barely anything all week, stupid idiot. He never did when he was 'thinking' which bothered the smaller man a lot.
'You shouldn't starve yourself, you know.'
'I'm not. You know I'm not a big fan of food.'
'But Sherlock-!'
'And anyway,' the man continued, not even bothering to open his eyes 'a lot of the stuff in supermarkets these days are the perfect cause for stomach evacuation, and I'm not the biggest fan of vomiting, either. I only eat when I'm satisfied; I thought you knew that by now, John.'
'I do, but I care about the way you work, and not eating ANYTHING is bad, Sherlock. I am a doctor, I should know. And I do.' Said the other, as the kettle clicked off and let itself steam off.
'Good for you. I tell you what, we'll eat tonight. Together.'
'Is that a promise?'
'Only if I get my tea in the next ten seconds. I'm parched.'