Sherlock and John were sitting across each other. Both with a cup of tea. Sherlock was deep in his thoughts. John sat in the armchair again. He sort of called it his own now. John looked over at Sherlock curiously, wanting to know what is going in his funny head. Sherlock was thinking, slumped down in his armchair, elbows resting on the armrests on either side of his body, fingers steepled under his chin. John then decided to break Sherlock's thoughts, so he spoke up.

"I hope I didn't cause any problems last night." He suddenly said, breaking Sherlock's thoughts. Sherlock's head snapped up and turned toward John, sneaking a smile.

"Nah, you were totally fine." Sherlock replied with a grin, looking deeply into John's eyes. He then turned away from John's beautiful ocean blue eyes and took a sip of his tea. He had to admit, tea was actually pretty good. But he still preferred coffee filled with two sugars.

"How did I get here?" John asked, rubbing his temples with his forefinger and middle finger.

"Like you saw on your phone, you were really drunk and you couldn't stand on your feet anymore. I almost had to drag you here. I planned to bring you with the cab to your apartment. But then I asked you your address. But, Mr. Watson here." He said as he put his biggest smirk on. "Started to laugh like a hyena, telling me that he forgot. So here you are, in my flat, sipping my tea. "

"Oh my god I'm so sorry..." John said, looking embarrassedly at his cup. Sherlock couldn't help but laugh at John's sheepish face. "But thanks. I really appreciate it." John added, meeting Sherlock's gaze again.

"Not a problem." Sherlock replied fondly. A lovely silence hung around the place. After a couple minutes, Sherlock spoke up again.

"How are you feeling, John?" He asked cautiously.

"My head is killing me." John responded, frowning as he said so.

"I'm not talking about that." Sherlock pointed out.

"Oh." John paused, looking at his cup, clearing his throat. "I don't know what to feel anymore."

"What do you mean?" Sherlock asked.

"Life is miserable. Just when I started to be happy again... Something had to ruin it again." He sighed, taking another sip.

"Happy?" Sherlock asked slightly confused.

"Well... yes. I mean... Some things are making me happy these days." John stuttered.

"Like what?" Sherlock asked, staring at John.

"You." John said right away. When John caught the look on Sherlock's face, which was plastered with the widest smile he knew.
John blushed furiously, and he bit down on his bottom lip. He realized he was blushing so he tried to avoid Sherlock's eyes, what is hard to do so. If a surgeon would cut open John's stomach right now. Millions butterflies would fly out and fly through the open window in the bright sunny Sunday morning. Sherlock felt a blush burst on his cheeks and on his nose and even down his neck. He is making John happy? He couldn't believe this. Never but like never he was positive in someone's life. He looked at John with disbelief.

"I... make you happy?" He asked shyly, his eyes twinkling from delight.

"Yes." He paused. "Of course, you make me happy." He replied, staring blankly at Sherlock as he blushed deep red. Sherlock didn't know what to answer on this. He looked down at his lap, staying silent. His face changed. John noticed Sherlock's uncomfortable face. "Did I make you..." Sherlock cut him off.

"No you didn't." He blurted out, meeting John's eyes again.
"I'm just not used to this..." He stammered. "People caring for me."

"I'm sure that's not true." John pointed out, sitting more straight.

"Without my family? Nobody except Ms. Hudson cares for me. But she acts like that to everyone." He grumbled.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't feel sorry for me. I hate people, somehow you are an exception for me."

"Do I need to feel flattered?" John quipped.

"You should." Sherlock said with an oblique smile and stood up. John rolled his eyes and chuckled. Sherlock then grabbed John's teacup and asked if he wanted another. And he did say yes. Of course he did.

Sherlock and John kept talking about cases and John explained more about the army trainings. Sherlock also asked John if he need to work a lot in the surgery. John explained that he only need to work two times in the week. They phoned him Friday with this news. The reason of this was because his mood caused 'bad' work. And this will cause financial problems for John. At this, an idea came in Sherlock's mind. He probably will regret it, since he tummy decided that he... sort of... is in love with the man sitting across him.

"Maybe I can help with that." Sherlock stated.

"With what?" John asked confused. Sherlock drifted in his thoughts again, not knowing that they didn't talk for five minutes.

"Financial problems."

"How?" He questioned.

"Move in here." Sherlock suggested. John choked on his tea, his face with shock at first. Sherlock's face dropped, thinking it was a wrong thing to ask. "Sorry, I thought it was a good idea since-

"Shut up, Sherlock." John said firmly, breathing heavily. "It's an amazing idea. God." He paused, running a hand through his hair. "Thank you, you are amazing." He blurted out, smiling like an idiot. Sherlock blushed, his pale cheeks changed into a rosy red color for like the thousandth time today. His skin heating up, and his eyes dilating, with a confused and freaked out look on his eyes. He then cleared his throat.

"I play the violin when I'm thinking. Sometimes I don't talk for days on end." He said, looking deeply in John's eyes. "Would that bother you?"

"What?" John asked confused, then he chuckled and continued. "And no, I don't think so." He smiled.

"Friends, flatmates should know the worst about each other, right?" Sherlock asked.

"Yes, of course."

"Like you know; I'm not the eating type." He added.

"Yes, I got that part." John replied with a smile, licking his bottom lip.

"You seem to be the perfect flatmate. You probably don't have a horrible habit."

"Well, you're not quite right."

"Oh?"

"If you hear me screaming at night. Ignore it. Lately I have nightmares." He shrugged.

"That's fine. I scream at night when I'm awake." He pointed out with a tiny smile. John chuckled. "That's settled then?" Sherlock asked.

"I hope so, yes."

"Good!" He said vigorously, clasping his hands together and stood up. "Get a shower, grab some fresh clothes out of the left wardrobe, because your other stink terrible. So please don't wear them. I'll go downstairs, arrange everything with Ms. Hudson." Sherlock said quickly, surely happy with this. John blushed and stood up, not knowing that the blanket isn't wrapped around his body. Sherlock scanned him and then coughed.

"John..." He said amusingly, pointing to his pants.

"Oh god." He said, quickly wrapping himself in the blanket again. They both chuckled as they met eye contact again. Sherlock walked away, saying some bye words and disappeared out of his flat. He closed the door and then suddenly he peered inside again. John frowned at him.

"Really John?" He said. John gave him a look. "Red pants?"

"Oh shut up." They both laughed.

I wrote this on my internship, without internet. So I really hope that i didn't make too much mistakes. I'm a Dutchyyy