Work Text:
John caught Sherlock making breakfast one morning. Sherlock liked to cook - when he felt like it.
"It's just like chemistry, John. Only it smells much better." He'd said with a giggle when he first made John crepes for his birthday.
But today wasn't his birthday. It wasn't any holiday or special day. A routine Tuesday.
John walked up to him and leans in to smell the back of his neck. He smelled of lavender and apricots from his fancy shampoo and conditioner.
"What's the occasion?" John murmured.
"One has to have an 'occasion' to cook for the one they love."
He'd said it so nonchalantly, it took John by surprise. Heretofore, they hadn't expressed that level of passion towards each other, although John certainly felt that way about Sherlock, and he'd suspected Sherlock felt the same towards him.
John felt his face rumple into confused lines, quickly creasing into a broad smile.
"You love me, eh?"
"Of course. Don't be an idiot, John."
"Well, did you know then?"
"Know what, John."
"That I'm in love with you too, idiot."
The kiss they shared was better than any John had experienced before in his life. Shame the toast burned though...