Author's Note: Oh my God. I'm so sorry. I'm so so so sorry. I'm late! I'm late! I'm late!
But seriously though, I apologise. I recently started my freshman year of high school and I was stressed and freaking out and a whole bunch of other things and I'm ready to crash and burn.
So naturally I decided to write some fluff.
It's been a really long time since I've updated but I started high school so I think that's a good enough excuse.
I'll literally be updating whenever I have the time and energy to. I doubt I'll be able to update as often as I have been before. Sorry, guise.
Anyways, t is for tea.
Reviews and constructive criticism are always welcome and appreciated.
Happy reading!
Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock. The show belongs to BBC and the books belong to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
Tea
Sherlock Holmes has never been a fan of tea.
Even as a child he didn't like it. He spit it out the first time he ever tried it and he hasn't liked it since.
He was just more of a coffee person. He liked the taste. He liked the smell. He liked the bitterness it left in his mouth (because he drank it black with two sugars, of course). He liked the rush of adrenaline it gave him. He liked the way it kept him awake during the longest of cases.
Coffee was just superior in Sherlock's mind. Always had been. Always will be.
That was, at least, until he met John Watson.
John had a strong preference of tea over coffee. He drank the most basic, milky, black tea you could get and he drank it often. He loved tea. His mother used to make him a cuppa when he was small and he couldn't get enough of it.
So Sherlock found himself making tea more often. He'd make John some every once and awhile. John's posture and mood always improved after Sherlock handed it to him, making Sherlock smile the most minuscule smile one could think of. Sometimes Sherlock even asked John to make him some tea, which he always took with ridiculous amounts of sugar. He rarely drank the whole thing-if he drank it at all-but John always seemed happy to make tea.
Sherlock liked to make John happy in the smallest ways. (He'd never admit it, of course, but that doesn't mean it wasn't true.)
They were in the middle of a long and difficult case and Sherlock needed caffeine and sugar. And he needed lots of it. But, to his dismay, they were out of coffee. And Sherlock had not the time nor the effort to go out and get some. So tea it was.
"John?"
"Yes, Sherlock?"
"Could you make me a cup of tea?"
John's face brightened instantly, and Sherlock's frown lessened the smallest bit.
"Of course, Sherlock."
Sherlock simply nodded and turned back to his work, his eyes a bit brighter than they were before.
John soon handed Sherlock his cup of tea, enough sugar piled in to rot his teeth instantly. Sherlock admittedly had a sweet tooth, and his obsession and love of sugar was a bit more than a little unhealthy.
John just smiled as Sherlock nodded a thank you and went back to his work quietly.
Sherlock actually drank the entire cup of tea (which was quite the surprise). The sugar and caffeine had woken him up quite a bit, and he finished the last bit of investigation and experimentation quickly. He quickly moved out the door, texting Lestrade his findings, and John on his tail.
It didn't take long to get the murderer behind bars. Not that Sherlock stayed long enough to see it happen, he had left quickly to grab dinner with John.
John had a cup of tea, of course, and Sherlock finally got his much-needed and much-desired cup of coffee, black, two sugars.
Sherlock couldn't help but think that tea became much more desirable once John raised the mug up to his lips.
And Sherlock could tell by the dilation of his pupils that John couldn't help but find coffee a bit more interesting when Sherlock took a sip of his desired caffeinated drink.
When Sherlock found himself kissing John later that night, he couldn't say he still thought tea tasted so awful.