"Angelo's is a bit casual for a date."
John stopped dead on his tracks, turning to Sherlock who was half-lying on the sofa, staring ahead of himself.
"Well, it was a casual date," John shrugged and proceeded to the stairs.
"On the contrary," Sherlock stopped him again. John turned to look at him, awaiting continuation, but it seemed that Sherlock needed some encouragement.
"Explain," John sighed, taking a few steps toward his flat mate.
Sherlock finally turned to look at him, snaking his hand into his pocket and taking out the black rectangle of a tag. John became visibly uncomfortable, inhaling; Sherlock's eyes slid lower and he was confronted with straining buttons on John's chest. Raising one eyebrow, Sherlock met John's nervous gaze.
"I believe it is obvious to both of us that you would not force yourself to endure this shirt if it were a casual date," John watched as Sherlock traced the side of the tag with one long finger, "And you do not wear purple."
"I…"
"You used my shower gel," Sherlock noticed off-handedly, looking ahead of himself again, eyes slightly narrowed in thought, "That makes it three things. But perhaps there is more. If I were to call Angelo and inquire as to what table you reserved…"
"It was the same table, yes," John said, exhaling.
Sherlock remained silent for a second, before swinging his legs and getting up from the couch.
"You," he said, walking menacingly toward John, "You certainly have an agenda."
John's breathing quickened as Sherlock got closer; he was almost ready to faint, but luckily the detective bypassed him and walked into the kitchen. John closed his eyes and exhaled heavily.
"Assimilation," Sherlock said from the kitchen, puttering about, "We have been living together for a while, it was bound to happen. I eat on a more regular basis. And you have decided to buy a tighter shirt."
John risked a quick look at Sherlock only to see the detective making tea. Sherlock had two cups ready, and John relaxed, walked to his chair and reached for the remote.
"But assimilation is a gradual process," Sherlock continued and the pounding in John's temples resumed. His hand rested a mere inch from the remote, but he did not have the will to bridge the distance.
"I would have noticed these things before. Therefore it is something else. We might of course assume that you were impressed by the effect I have on women and that you decided to reap similar benefits by undergoing forced assimilation."
John was mesmerized by the stitching on the lapels of his shirt when Sherlock surprised him by thrusting a cup of tea in his hand. John reluctantly took the cup and Sherlock swiftly took a seat close to him.
"There is always that," Sherlock sighed, close to John's ear, "And then, of course, there is Narcissism."
Sherlock watched as John almost choked, but fought with himself to maintain a respectful appearance.
"Narcissism," Sherlock repeated, leaning back against the couch, draping his arm around its back. "The game you are playing is not quite as simple as it looks. You know me and I know you, and this," Sherlock brandished the tag again, "Was planted intentionally."
"You assumed I was a homosexual after our first dinner at Angelo's. Then, perhaps, you remembered some chapter on Freud from university and recalled the link between homosexuality and Narcissism. Coupled with your observations of me, you assumed that if I were to fancy someone, it would be someone who reminds me of myself."
"Now, how to frame this game so I did not think that you were simply trying to impress your dates? The answer is to be caught, of course. If you were to pursue women, you would have been ashamed to admit that you were assimilating. But if I am the object of your affection – then getting caught has at least two benefits. First, you present yourself in your assimilated form. Second, you confess your affections, almost inadvertently."
"Third, and I admire the personal quality of it, you provide me with a case."
John fidgeted uncomfortably and stole a glance at Sherlock, who leaned close to him again.
"Fourth," Sherlock whispered, touching John's ear with his lips, "You remind me that every brilliant criminal wants to get caught in the end."