Ache

"John."

"Mmh~m?"

"My stomach hurts."

"Mhm!"

The doctor, formerly reading his medical journal, sprang into action immediately. Since his flatmate was never willing to give into any physical pain, sometimes even not acknowledging it, John knew the seriousness of this exclamation. He sat on the edge of the couch Sherlock was laying on and rubbed his hands against each other. Nothing worse than startling his patient with a cold touch.

"Where does it hurt?"

Sherlocks hands, formerly laying passively at his sides, gestured vague at the center of his tummy, his eyes not leaving the ceiling.

When Johns hands pressed softly against him, Sherlock let out a sigh, his hands fell back onto the cushions and his shoulders relaxed.

Sherlock:

Feels empty, longing. Not food, drink. Nothing like that. Know that feeling. Not it. Eaten only 12 hours ago. Can´t be it. But feels empty. Wanting something. Asked John before, but didn´t answer. Maybe not home again. Went worse. Now Johns touch. Makes it better. Much better. Almost gone.

John:

I can´t feel a knot or a tense area. Everything seems alright, but if Sherlock tells me he´s feeling it, there has to be something. Maybe the Pad Thai from lunch, but I had it too, well, had the most of it. The flu maybe? Not that he was outside the flat for the last days. What could it be?

"It´s better now."

"Well... Okay… then I´ll…"

John gestured at his armchair and heaved himself to his feet again.

He licked his lips and said after a short pause: "Tell me if you´re feeling bad again, will ya."

He wasn´t really expecting an answer, therefore was even more surprised when his flatmate mumbled a response before curling into a ball and facing the back of the couch.

"… I will… thank you…"

Please let me know what you think, so I know it´s not complete rubbish and feel free to suggest a theme.

Thanks to all the supporters! Your input is appreciated. :)