COFFEE SHOP AU UWUWUWU

(Uni!Lock wooo)

Sherlock was out on a case, and tired. He hadnt slept for a whole 5 days, and he knew his limit. Even if it was just transport, he needed to keep his health steady.

But before he left off to Baker Street to get some much needed rest, he popped into a small Cafe, and let the smell of warm coffee lift his stiff cold cheeks, and brighten the rosy color that had enveloped his face.

He walked forward and sat himself at a nearby table, pulling out his notes, while groggily rubbing his face.

He began to skim through the case he had recieved from Lestrade, when a voice cleared its throat.

"Ehm-sir, what would you like?"

Sherlock waved his hand dismissively, still looking down at the files as he began telling the waiter his order.

"Eh-black, 2 sugars, thank you," He mumbled, and then the waiter frowned down at him, slightly bothered by the fact that Sherlock didnt even bother to acknowledge him.

"Is.. will that be all?"

Sherlock shrugged, mumbling something, and then froze.

"Oh, wait yes! Do you have any-"

Sherlock stopped midsentence, as his eyes met the waiters.

Oh.

Sherlock blinked at him, as the man stood there confused.

"I.. i um, no. I think-sorry-" Sherlock shook his head and looked away, his cheeks blooming with color.

"Ehm, never mind," Sherlock swallowed. "Sorry, im a bit..." Sherlock shrugged a bit, and then spoke. "Havent slept in 5 days, i-"

Sherlock looked away, and the waiter began to suffer from second hand embarrasment.

"Sorry, im fine,"

The man blinked at him, and then nodded, turning away.

Sherlock leaned forward, and banged his head on the table.

That was going to make him cringe for a very long time.

-

"You're coffee sir," A tan hand placed a mug next to Sherlocks files, and Sherlock glanced at him, sending him a small smile, before looking back at his notes.

The waiter stood there for a while, debating wether to say anything or not, before Sherlock began to squirm under the pressure of the waiters gaze.

"5 days hm? That'll kill you, you know," The waiter spoke, and Sherlock looked up at him, blinking a bit.

"I... i suppose,"

The waiter smiled softly.

"Im John,"

"Sherlock,"

-

Sherlock stepped into the coffee shop. It was an early morning, and he had a long drive ahead of him if he wanted to make his flight to see his parents.

Sherlock walked into the Cafe he had come into 3 weeks ago, and then walked over to sit in the same spot he had last time.

A flash of blue eyes rang in his mind, and Sherlocks insides melted as he remembered the waiter from last time, and he smiled to himself, before pulling out the pictures of the case, and began studying them.

After 5 minutes of sitting there, he saw a tan hand place itself on the table, and Sherlock smiled at it, and then heard a familiar voice speak.

"Hello, what would you like today?"

"Black, 2 sugars. Same as last time,"

"Ahh, anything else? Or will you have another outburst caused by sleep deprivation?" John teased, and Sherlock flushed, before smiling.

"M'fine,"

John nodded, before walking away, and Sherlock stared after him, before coming back to reality and looking back down at the case.

-

"Here you go," Sherlock glanced up and smiled, before John noticed the case files.

"Ehm, dont mean to intrude, but why is there a picture of a dead woman on the table?" John asked, and Sherlock just shook his head.

"Ah, just... im a....detective...you could say," He shrugged, and John was taken aback.

"Oh,"

Another pause.

"I like Detectives," He smirked, and Sherlock flushed a red, and decided it wasnt worth looking up to look at the waiter.

Suddenly, he felt John lean over him a bit, and look at the case.

"So, whats it about then?"

"Ah.. well,"

-

Another week strolled by, and Sherlock walked into the Cafe, and sat down in his spot, same as last time (of course). He pulled out the crime scene photos, and pictures, along with his laptop and a couple other things.

He was still on the same bloody case from last Sunday!

He studied the pictures, writing notes down on a piece of paper, but all he ended up scrolling in the end was a big 'x', starting all over again on his deductions.

Sherlock could just hear the sound of Mycrofts petty laughing, and it made him flinch a bit.

"More dead people?"

Sherlock jumped, and flushed when he saw a smirking John Watson, and he swallowed.

"Just working... em-" "Let me guess, black with 2 sugars?"

Sherlock blushed again, something that John was coming to a liking to, and the young detective nodded slowly.

John winked, and turned away to walk down.

Sherlock could not believe this situation.

-

As John came back, he too studied the pictures.

"Umm... do you mind if i have an input?"

Sherlock looked up at him, and awkwardly looked away.

"Sure..."

"Great,"

John grinned, going around to sit on the opposite side of Sherlock.

"So whats this one, eh?" He asked, picking up the pictures.

...

Sherlock told him everything.

After he had finished, John blinked at him rapidly.

Sherlock squirmed at the silence, only to be caught off guard by whisper of a breath.

"You're brilliant,"

Sherlock froze, and then looked across the table towards John.

John cleared his throat, looking back at the papers, and then picked up a picture.

"So... did you look through the suitcase?" He asked.

Sherlock raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

"The-the suitcase," Sherlock blinked at him confused.

John leaned forward, placing a finger on the womans leg.

"Well, assuming what all you said was right, she had to have been carrying a suitcase-look," John traced the lines on the picture of the womans leg.

"Scratches, probably from a suit case-"

"There wasnt a suit case," Sherlock whispered.

"Wh-" "There wasnt a suit case, John,"

They both looked at eachother with wide eyes, and John sat up, in time with Sherlock.

"John," Sherlock grinned, before grabbing Johns shoulders and spinning him 360.

"You just caught a murderer!"

John grinned, and flushed at the hands on his shoulders, and Sherlock packed up his things, shoving his hands into his pocket, and grabbing Johns hand, slamming the money into it.

"Sorry, i would have enjoyed the coffee, but ive got to go-Thank you!" He yelled out as he dashed out of the cafe, and into the world.

John stood there, oggling, and then picked up the untouched, cold cup of coffee.

-

It had been 4 months now, and Sherlock came to the Cafe every weekend to greet John. He made sure it wasnt too crowded, and that it was near the time John got off, so that they could have time to chat for a bit.

They would talk nonstop about things and the world. John began to grow fond of the detective sitting in front of him, and he memorised what coffee he took, (although he still came up to ask-couldnt pass up any opprotunity in talking to Sherlock-).

John found out that Sherlock wasnt just a detective, and Sherlock found out that John wasnt just a waiter. He found out that John was studying to become a doctor.

He found out that John was 24 years old, his Dad gone, had a Lesbian Sister, and a sick Mum.

And Sherlock told John of his life, and about his boring brother, and slightly annoying parents.

And then one day out of the blue, John blurted out something.

"This months rent is killing me,"

Sherlock looked up from his phone and to John

"Really? How much?"

"Not much, i just dont know if i can pay it, since mum is sick and all,"

Sherlock sat there for a second, chewing his lip, before letting words slip his tounge without filteration.

"I could help,"

John blinked.

"What?"

"I-i mean pay the rent..."

John stared at him, before Sherlock looked away.

"Sorry, i know we've only just met. Nevermind-"

"Sherlock,"

Sherlock stared at him.

"What you're offering is very kind, but i wont take your money just because i dont have my own. Its fine, i'll live,"

Sherlock nodded, before looking back down at his phone.

"Probably just need a flatshare is all," John mumbled, shrugging.

Sherlock froze, and he glanced up at John, as John traced the patterns on the table with his finger.

"Y-you could flatshare with me," he stuttered, and John looked up at him with wide eyes.

"...really?"

Sherlocks lips parted as he felt his mouth dry, before stuttering out, " Oh yeah, its fine i could use some help and i know this really nice place on baker street, and i mean if it would help with your mum and all id be glad to-"

"Sherlock woah, slow down," John said, and Sherlock clamped his mouth.

There was a long silence before John grinned.

"I would love to have you as a flatmate," He grinned, and Sherlock smiled nervously back.

"So, when will you move in?"