A/N: This was inspired by a prompt on Tumblr you can see at "aloneinthetardiss." Not really sure if this is going to be super long but definitely not a one-shot. Obvious Johnlock coming right up! Read & review please! I have a lot of ideas for this one.
The consulting detective knew this was going to be hard to do. He had been planning this moment ever since he realized just what his feelings for his flatmate were.
Not to mention there was the whole "drugs" topic to discuss. Sherlock couldn't decide whether to discuss both things simultaneously or not—who could keep up with the social norms surrounding love and drugs?
He waited in the living room of the flat, somewhat nervously playing the violin; or rather Sherlock was trying to play. His mind would often wander to images of John yelling at him. He had no idea how this was going to go but he hoped nothing would change too much.
It was Tuesday. John always came home early on Tuesdays. He would be tired, Sherlock knew, so he prepared some tea. He didn't want it to be too out of place so he made none for himself. And he waited.
He waited an hour before John arrived at the flat.
"Sherlock," John called out, "Are you there? You would not believe the day I've had—"
John was headed towards the detective when Sherlock interrupted.
"I'm in love with you."
The taller man just blurted out the words. He frowned; he hadn't planned it like that. Still he searched John's face for any sign of reaction.
John stayed silent, the shock settling over him like a wave of surprise.
"Um, okay." That's all he could. He wasn't sure if this was a test; a way of seeing if he could be conducting some sort of sick, twisted experiment.
John took a deep breath. "Sherlock—" before he could even properly think about his next sentence he was interrupted again.
"I am in love with you. I'm also high right now. And I have been high for months. Really John, how could someone who is a trained medical professional not see the signs."
John Watson lost it. He started yelling at Sherlock in a way he never had before.
"YOU BLOODY TELL ME YOU LOVE ME AND THEN IT TURNS OUT YOU'RE JUST… HIGH? WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH YOU?"
The yelling went on for what seemed an eternity to Sherlock.
After John had made such a show of storming out of the room he didn't know whether he should follow.
He decided to anyway. As he reached John's door, it was opened suddenly and angrily.
In a growl John said, "Sherlock if you were just being a tosser and lying to me then I don't know how you expect me to keep living here."
He left the flat.
Sherlock sobered up a bit at the thought of losing the man he loved. He didn't know whether it was because of the profession of love or the drugs. How dare John not be easily read?
Sherlock locked himself in his room and felt sad for the first time in his life.
