Chapter Text
It had been seven months since he moved in with the lanky detective, seven months in which his life changed for the better, he no longer felt alone, much less scared to live, he had found a very happy, interesting and… innocent roommate. John realized that his new friend is different, a bit sensitive to stimuli, come on, the man couldn't stand labels or seams on clothes, he didn't like mushrooms or onion on pizza, but John still didn't He had a clear idea and therefore did not know how to react to his roommate.
The doctor decided to pay more attention to Sherlock's actions.
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Sherlock was frustrated, all morning he was trying to find new data in the files that Greg gave him the night before, but all effort was irrelevant, there were no more clues. John realized that his roommate was upset, he could see it in his lost gaze, in his fingers dancing rhythmically, and in the blinking every so often.
He had tried to communicate with the younger man, he wanted him to know that he was not alone, or just vent, but the detective was practically ignoring his existence, so he just started making tea. He decided that Sherlock must make the first move if he wanted someone to talk to.
That lasted until he looked away from his laptop where he was writing to see Sherlock standing up quickly hugging himself, head down, blinking rapidly and walking straight into his room.
Shortly after locking himself in his room, John could hear a low murmur, without hesitation, he went to the closed door and touched it softly.
"Sherlock? ... Are you okay? Open the door friend." He said in a low voice.
Receiving no reply, he took some courage and turned the handle that was surprisingly open, and was greeted by a painful sight. Sherlock was on the floor at the end of his bed making the murmur that John heard, legs up to his chest, his right hand tangled in his curls and his left rubbing his index finger against his thumb.
The oldest man's first instinct was to sit next to his roommate, reluctant to want to touch him for fear of scaring him, he tried again to call his name.
"Sherlock?" Said the doctor anxiously.
The muttering stopped and a soft little voice spoke.
"Yes, John?" The taller man said without raising his face.
John shook his head.
"I'm going to hug you and if you don't say anything to me within the next ten seconds you won't be able to misguide me" Said this, the ex-soldier put his arms around the detective.
Hearing a soft gasp from Sherlock, John hesitated and loosened his grip, until ...
"Stronger," said the man in his arms.
Only this was missing to hear and John squeezed it hard and placed his chin on top of the chocolate curls.
They were like this for ten minutes, getting his shoulder ache from the force and uncomfortable position, but not wanting to want to let go of his friend, because yes, Sherlock had a place in John's heart since he met him. When he thought that, a truth came to his mind and he wanted to clarify it for both of them.
"Sherlock, if you need this, anytime, anywhere, and whatever, you just need to ask me, you don't need to shut down." He asked, to which the young man moved a little until he buried his head in the crook of John's neck and hummed in response.The shorter man thought that the other had fallen asleep, surprised to hear the rich baritone forming a very meaningful phrase for both of them.
"Thank you John"