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The dinner ended and John was too satisfied to move from the table. The candles burnt lower and lower as they finished the bottle, laughing and talking, getting more and more tipsy for each glass. The atmosphere was more perfect then ever, they had a really nice time without Sherlock dominating the conversation or depreciate him. They laughed, talked about their latest cases and John's blog that Sherlock still found ridiculous, but that was just his opinion, but as alway he liked to interfere with what John was going to post, or what title he would give them.

"I need to ask you something." John suddenly said and pressed a hand to his cheek that was blushing by the alcohol. "I was at the hospital for a week, and you practically lived there, didn't you get bored?"

"Of course I got bored!" Sherlock said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "But, I had my violin, I composed a bit, did some research, made some notes for your blog." John swallowed the wine and frowned, couldn't believe that Sherlock had helped him.

"You've been writing for my blog?" he asked and crossed his arms on the table, gazing at Sherlock who he swirled his glass.

"I made you some notes of things that might be important, things about mr Rains autopsy, your operation and recovery. That reminds me, we got a thank-you-note from little Shirley. She painted you a picture."

"Me?" he asked and Sherlock stood up. On the counter there was a brown letter, envelope covered in stickers, hearts and clouds, clearly sent by a child.

"Yes, she painted us both a picture." John took the letter and pulled out the pages. The first page was a thank-you-note from her very thankful parents, he decided to save it for later and pulled up the next. She had drawn Sherlock in his black coat, looking as mysterious as ever; on the top, shaky little letters said "thank you" and John smiled.

"They're quite artistic, aren't they?"

"For a seven-year-old, yes." Sherlock said and fell down on his chair again, drinking his wine while John turned page, expecting a picture of him but instead there was a big turtle coloured cat and he bursted into laughter again.

"Thank you John Watson for saving my life. This is my cat Liz." he read.

"I'm sure Liz is very happy to have her owner back." Sherlock said ironically and leaned his elbows on the table. Maybe Sherlock didn't understand the gratitude and work this little girl had spent on these simple gifts, but he sure did.

"Well, these are going on the fridge." he grinned and the detective snorted out a laugh.

"Why?"

"Because they're nice!" he answered happily and stood up to walk over to the fridge. "How often do we get drawings from those we help?"

"Never, and that's often enough!" Sherlock said and finished his glass before refilling.

Old bills and notes were all over the refrigerator and he pulled off the most unimportant to make room for the pictures, they gave a wonderful splash of colour to the door. "Why don't you open it?" He turned to Sherlock.

"What?" His friend signed to the fridge and scratched his chin.

"Why don't you open it?" The memories of all the things he had seen in the fridge hunted him and he crocked his head.

"What, is there another severed head?" he asked and Sherlock smirked. "A bag of toes perhaps?" Sherlock smiled from ear to ear.

"Just open it." he said again and John rolled his eyes, expecting the worst since the fridge always had a smell of blood and death, but this time the smell was gone. The light came on and revealed the two cups of butter scotch pudding, he's favourite.

"Oh, Sherlock." he grinned and brought them to the table. "Maybe I should get shot more often."

"Oh, don't be silly doctor Watson." the detective grinned and filled John's glass. "This is a one time event, don't get used to it."

That was not really an intension he had, but he would mind to be more taken care of in the future. After all, their relationship had changed gravely since their sudden intimate moment at the hospital, at lest for him. An awful rock landed in the bottom of his stomach and he felt the smile he had been carrying for the whole evening disappear from his lips. His gaze sunk to his hands and the pudding in front of him didn't seem to tempt him anymore. What if all this was one of Sherlock experiments, what if he lured John into something just to explore the human emotions on a level of love? Could he really be that cruel?

"Sherlock?" he mumbled and started to tear his nails as the rock got heavier for each second. "Can I ask you something?" Sherlock observed his friend in wonder and nodded.

"Fire away." he said. He decided to go straight at it.

"Is this an experiment of yours?" Sherlocks eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hairline by the question.

"You mean this simple gestures?" he asked and leaned closer to the table.

"Yes." John said and nodded. "You, waiting for my awakening at the hospital, the flowers, this and... the.. er..." Sherlock leaned even closer over the table.

"Are you referring to our kiss?" he asked with a smile, his voice was lower now, rumbling in his chest and sending shivers down John's spine.

"I think I'm referring to everything." he said, and realised that he was trembling now. That's when it happened, Sherlock grabbed a hold of his collar and leaned as close as he could to him; pressed his lips against his and let his long fingers touch his newly shaved chin. John didn't know where to keep his hands, they wanted to explore but he restrained himself, at lest for now. Lips were soft against each other, John could taste the butter scotch on him and now he had no idea what he craved more, Sherlock or the pudding. Sherlock pulled back and slowly opened his green blue eyes to look at him.

"Does it feel like an experiment?" he asked calmly, still touching his chin.

"Not to me, no." John said honestly, he was shaking now and on the brink of crying, what if Sherlock pulled back, laughed hysterically as he had succeeded with the experiment; but he didn't laugh, he didn't cheer like he did after reaching results.

"Not to me either." he said and brushed his bottom lip against John's skin. John was hypnotised by his words and pulled into a second kiss, heart beating frantically as Sherlock's hands touched his cheeks. But how much John even wanted this, he still had questions that needed to be answered before he got to addicted to these feelings, so he pulled back. Biting his own lip and lowered his gaze to the table, curling his hands into fists as he let out a big nervous sigh. The long fingers lingered on his cheek and Sherlock tried to get back in his eyesight.

"Did I do something wrong?" he asked blushing.

"No." John said quickly and shook his head, wounded his hands around those slim wrists of his. He fell back on the chair and pulled back his arm. They were gambling their friendship, and that was what John valued most in his life. To go from best friend and colleague into an intimate relationship was a though decision. Sherlock who had been frozen in his position straightened his blazer and sat down on his chair with a serious face. He sniffled and reached for his wine glass again.

"I'm sorry, Sherlock." John said and pinched his nose bridge like he was having a headache. "It's not your fault."

"You're sceptic." Sherlock said. "I can understand why."

"No, no..."

"Of course you are." Sherlock snorted, he was obviously hurt by John's sudden reject. "You see me as a colleague and a friend, you're worried about the rumours that already been gossiped about in media, you're unsure about your sexual orientation and have been for a long time now, haven't you? It would be hard to keep the relationship on a level without it concerning or interfering in our job, since, of course we work where we sleep and we sleep where we work."
"Sherlock!" The detective silenced and realised he had been shouting and John stared at him with a locked jaw and teared eyes. He had made a fool out of himself so he closed his eyes to stop his brain from thinking to deep. "I'm sorry." John cleared his throat and leaned far away from him in his chair, stroking his hands back and forth over his thighs.

"Sherlock..." he began and saw his friend spin his finger over the glass. "None of those things bothers me..." Sherlock sighed and closed his eyes. "I need to ask you... what do you want to get out of this?" Sherlock was about to answer him but John was not done. "What happens in that body of yours when you see me? I'm asking you because everything I ever hear you talking about is solutions, proof of every human intellect and I just don't want to be another subject of yours to examine."

"John.."

"No, I wanna know." John said, he could't stand to get hurt by him, he didn't want this to end with them never seeing each other again. "Because sometimes it seems like everything you do is in your favour in the end, so I'm asking you, where to you want to take this?" There was an awful moment of silence. Sherlock kept fingering his glass, John squeezing his trembling hands while observing his flatmate.

"Well.. John, I..." he started and took a deep breath. "As you know, I am a very complicated man... my mind is.. well you know how my mind works?" John snorted out a laugh and gave him an unsure nod. "I'm amazed that you work so well together with it, so I am considering to take you in as a very close part of my life because.. you seem to be the only one who can keep me on a human level, and I value that to much to take it for granted. You keep me human, and that is very precious to me. You are very precious to me." John closed his eyes hard and lowered his head.

"So what would you call that? he asked and crossed his arms tightly over his chest. "What do you want to do with our friendship?" Sherlock fell back in his chair and scratched the back of his head, somehow he looked more human now than he'd ever done before, unsure and weak in John's presence, like he could find words for his feelings.

"John." he began and the doctor lifted his head. "I have never been in a relationship."

"Yes, I know." John breathed and stroke his chin as he observed everything in the room but Sherlock.

"But when I imagine one, when I think about the future I can't see it with anyone else but... you." The room around then suddenly became very uninteresting for John, he locked his gaze at Sherlock and felt his heart skip a beat. That thin mouth on Sherlock's face had curled into a smile and his eyes glistened. "I really do and I think that is something worth speculating in."

"Speculating?" John asked and tried to ignore that awful twitching in the corners of his mouth.

"Well, wouldn't you agree?"

"Agree to what?" As always Sherlock spoke as if everything he said was so obvious and simple, John always had to dig to get anything out of him and it had never annoyed him as much as it did now. It seemed like someone tried to strangle the poor detective, he opened his mouth several times before closing it again, sucked in short breaths as he tried to find the right words. This was the first time John had seen him speechless. "Sherlock, just tell me what you want!"

"YOU!" Sherlock shouted and almost flew across the table as he leaned over it. "Don't you get it John! It's you, it's always been you! No other human being in the world have ever made me feel this vulnerable before, so extremely..." He silenced himself to breath and John sighed in happiness. "I need you, around, all the time." Sherlock spelled out the words for him, this was as clear and simple as he could put it.

"But I am around all the time." John laughed and moved closer to the table. "We live together."

"But there are so much we're not doing together." Sherlock said in a low voice and locked his eyes on John who leaned closer, his arms was now touching the table.

"Like what?" he asked and Sherlock started to snicker.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" he asked and stared right through John's soul with those green blue eyes.

"Oh yes I do." John said with a broad smile. "So when you say everything you mean what exactly?" Sherlock didn't need a moment to think this time, he knew very well want he needed to say.

"Things that couples do." Now they were finally going somewhere.

"I agree." John said with a smirk and Sherlock was chocked by the quick response.

"What?"

"I... agree." Time stopped, and they inspected each other thoroughly.

"Good." Sherlock said and quickly raised from the chair with a wide smile and straightened his jacked. "I've already taken the liberty to move your clothes into my room." John froze in his chair and watched how Sherlock walked away with confident steppes.

"That's... alright, I guess." he said with a smirk and shook his head in disbelieves, but he would never disagree to that.

Hope you enjoyed this chapter, will post another one as quick as I can.

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