‘I’m home,’ you call up the stairs of 221B Baker Street.
You lugged the shopping bags with you until you finally reached the flat that you shared with your best friend John and his roommate, Sherlock. You’d been living with them for about 2 months now and you were never bored with the antics that were going on.
‘Thank god you’re back (y/n), I need to go out. Anywhere but here, just make sure he doesn’t blow the place up or something,’ John sighed as he indicated to Sherlock who was lying on the sofa curled up and facing the back of it. John threw his coat on, kissed your cheek and ran out the door before you could even speak.
You sighed and began to move into the kitchen with your shopping. For once there were no experiments or body parts in the kitchen. When you emerged minutes later, Sherlock was still sulking on the sofa.
‘What was that all about?’ you asked quietly, sitting down in Sherlock’s chair. He shifted slightly at the sound of your voice.
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ he mumbled.
‘What did you do to make John want to leave so suddenly?’ you pressed. Sherlock turned so that he was staring up at the ceiling.
‘I may have insulted his intelligence,’ he mumbled. You stopped yourself from laughing.
‘Nothing new then,’ you say picking up today’s newspaper.
‘What do you mean?’ he asks. You peer at Sherlock over your paper and see that he has now sat up and is staring intensely at you and you frown.
‘Sherlock you insult everyone’s intelligence, I’m certain that you don’t even know you’re doing it a lot of the time,’ you say with a little smile and turn back to the paper.
‘Have I ever insulted you?’ he asks in a way that is so genuine it’s completely out of character.
‘Numerous times Sherlock, I got over it,’ you told him, watching him suspiciously.
‘I’m sorry,’ he mumbled. You almost fell out of the chair.
‘Excuse me?’ you asked.
Sherlock looked down at the floor for a moment and then back up at you.
‘I never meant to upset you,’ he said.
‘Am I really hearing this? The great Sherlock Holmes is apologising?’ you asked, completely unbelieving of what you were hearing.
Sherlock huffed and lay back on the sofa, eyes closed but facing the ceiling.
You watched him for a moment and smiled, he was genuinely concerned that he had upset you. You stood up and quietly stepped over to Sherlock, leaning down and gently kissing his cheek.
Sherlock’s eyes shot open and before you could pull away he had grabbed you and leaned up to press his lips against yours gently. He pulled away as quickly as he had kissed you, but instead of releasing you he pulled you against him.
You rested your head on his chest and his arm wrapped around your waist. You pulled your legs up and curled into Sherlock.
‘I might need to point out things you’ve done wrong more often,’ you teased with a smile.
He chuckled and you felt the vibrations through his chest.
The two of you lay there in comfortable silence with his hand tracing up and down your side and you drawing shapes on his chest.