DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything.

A/N: This is a one shot that evolved from a RP on omegle.

John : Me.

Sherlock: Omegle stranger.

Summary: John is insecure and hiding something from Sherlock. The worlds only consulting detective isn't prepared to drop the subject so easily.

Warnings : Mentions of weight gain, kissing, and John parading about in his red boxer shorts.


John had been in the bathroom for a solid half hour. He had a bit of a problem … his trousers weren't fitting him anymore.

He glared at his offending stomach that was preventing him from zipping up his jeans. Dam those takeaways Sherlock always brought him. That man was infuriating! Always buying John food but not eating for days on end because apparently the detective didn't want his brain to be effected by digestion. Idiot!

It was in that moment that he heard a steady knock on the bathroom door and the idiot in question calling his name.

"John, come on. This is slow even for you." Sherlock tapped his fingers on the door, clearly annoyed. "You've been in there for thirty minutes now." He leant against the wall with a sigh, not taking his hand off the door.

"Hang on a second!" John yelled back.

Ok… don't panic He told himself.

However it was hard not to panic when he still couldn't pull up his flyer.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. A second for John Watson seemed to be closer to fifteen minutes for the rest of the world. "You don't have to be mad at me for calling you an idiot. You know I never mean it. Now come back into the living room."

"I - can't." John replied, swallowing down hard. "I'm in a bit of a situation."

Sherlock frowned and without knowing why he tried the handle once again. Still locked. "What kind of situation?" He asked slowly, not sure if he really wanted John to answer him. " Was it the Chinese?"

"Kind of. I suppose I could blame the Chinese, yeh." John threw back in response, tugging at his zipper frantically.

" So are you coming out or not?" Sherlock said, hitting his head against the door with a bang. "I'm bored, John. "

John sighed, giving up. He unlocked the bolt on the bathroom door. "You're going to laugh at me." He mumbled.

"Only if you're amusing, which I doubt you are since you're currently in the bathroom." Sherlock opened the door and stepped inside, then almost tripped back out again. " J - John, put your trousers back on!" He quickly turned his gaze to the ceiling, but it was far too late to rid himself of the image of John stood in his underwear, his trousers hanging pathetically on his thighs. "Oh." He said. "You can't."

John went as bright red as a tomato. "So is this amusing enough for you, Sherlock?" He questioned.

"Absolutely." Sherlock grinned. "Thank you. You just cured my boredom."

"It's not funny!" John yelled, running a hand over his barely covered stomach. "I'm fat but I'm glad my sudden weight gain is here to amuse you."

"There's no need to throw a tantrum. What are you, a toddler?" Sherlock's smile disappeared and he looked down at the other man, careful to look at his face and not his cuddly-looking stomach or his red boxer shorts. "You're not fat, just a little rounder. That's it, nothing to worry about."

"Nothing to worry about!" John exclaimed in disbelief. "I must have put on at least three stone in the past moth."

"Two and a half." Sherlock corrected him. "And it's my fault for taking you out on any chases around London, even when I realised what was going on with your stomach." He chuckled and gently placed his hand over John's bellybutton. "I think the extra weight looks rather cute on you. There's nothing to be embarrassed about."

"Cute?" John quizzed. "I wasn't aware that you had a concept of 'cute' " He shivered under Sherlock's touch and frowned. "So you knew about my stomach and you didn't tell me. Why? You're usually so apt in pointing out other's faults."

"Faults, yes." Sherlock hummed in agreement, removing his hand. "This isn't one, so there is nothing to be said." He made a pause and looked further down at John's trousers, still hanging in defeat on John's thighs. "I guess this means you'll be wearing sweatpants until you've done some shopping."

"I guess so." John pouted. "I can't remember the last time I had to go shopping for new clothes." He chewed on his lip, contemplating the rather daunting task of buying clothes. He blinked. Had he heard Sherlock right? "You don't think it's a fault?"

"Well, you're always complaining about my body so this could be time for revenge – " Sherlock looked at him with a tiny smile and shook his head. "But no, I honestly don't think it's a fault."

"I do not complain." John laughed lightly. "I merely point out that you are far too skinny for your own good."

"That's what I said." Sherlock muttered. "Now put some trousers on to hide – that." He made some waving gestures at John's underwear.

"Is the great Sherlock Holmes embarrassed?" He asked teasingly. "Don't worry. If I were you I'd be embarrassed to see me like this too."

"I'm not embarrassed." Sherlock bit back, not liking the fact that John had touched upon his weak spot. He really was embarrassed, very much to his surprise.

"Let me go fetch some sweat pants then." John said, pushing past Sherlock, clutching to his trousers so they didn't fall down completely . For a moment he was certain that he had heard the detectives breath hitch but that was probably his imagination.

"About time." Sherlock muttered and returned to the sofa. He felt a sting of disappointment that he couldn't really explain and he tried to push it away, but there was still the picture of John standing in his red boxer shorts, with a deep crimson blush on his cheeks. He shook his head and rubbed his hands together, desperately trying to make it disappear from his mind.

"Right!" John exclaimed, walking back into the living room in a baggy hoodie and sweat pants. "Much better, don't you think?"

Sherlock tried to hold back a smile, but failed severely. "Nice." He said with a slight nod. "Can't even tell the difference."

John rolled his eyes and plopped down in his usual seat. "I'm going to have to do something about this weight. Maybe I should start by eating less. " His stomach growled angrily in protest, causing John to blush in front of his flatmate for the second time that day.

"You can't stop eating, John." Sherlock said with a sigh. "Can't you just be happy with who you are? You don't have to listen to the world's crazy idea of beauty. You couldn't look any better if you tried."

"How can I not care about what others think? Especially when I'm stood by your side." John sighed heavily in return, closing his eyes shut.

"My side?" Sherlock asked, genuinely confused. "What do you mean?"

"You are brilliant in intellect and beauty." John stated. "I am overweight, mundane, and an idiot. I hate when people look at me as if to say 'what the hell am I doing stood next to you?' "

Sherlock looked at him in disbelief. For a moment he considered not even bothering to answer, but John seemed to be serious so he opened his mouth to speak. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever hears, even coming from you. In fact it just reinstates the fact that you are indeed an idiot."

"I know I am." John muttered under his breath. "No need to remind me every five seconds."

"The rest isn't true though. You are not mundane and you weren't overweight until just recently, and we'll fix that , if it means so much to you." Sherlock tilted his head to stare at John properly. "And what you just said about me is ridiculous."

"No Sherlock, it's true. You're brilliant." John choked. "I – have to go." He got up, taking a deep breath to steady himself. "I need some space to think. Besides the exercise will do me some good."

"I know I'm brilliant, I meant the beauty part." Sherlock muttered and looked up at him, speaking louder again. "Where are you going?"

John paused. "I don't know yet. Somewhere anywhere."

"I'll go with you." Sherlock said in determination and stood. "In case you fall and need help getting up. It is rather windy today. You might just simply roll away." He chuckle, turning to John with a serious expression on his face. "Sorry, no more jokes."

"No - Sherlock." John shook his head, voice filled with angst. "Just me."

"Did I take it too far?" Sherlock questioned, really trying to look like he regretted it but regret was an unfamiliar emotion to him and he wasn't quite sure what his face should be doing. "I told you that I don't think you're fat. I was just teasing you."

John stared at his feet for a long while. "No Sherlock, it's nothing that you've done. I just – life is getting to me." He admitted under his breath.

Sherlock looked at him and tried to read him but either it was his inability to understand feeling that made it impossible, or John had gotten better at keeping things to himself. Either way, he couldn't understand what was going on in that blonde head. "Explain." He demanded, a bit annoyed that his deduction skills were rendered useless when it came to the ex arm doctor.

"You wouldn't understand, Sherlock." You really wouldn't." John grabbed his coat and pulled it over himself. "Don't worry. I'll probably just end up at the pub with Mike or Lestrade. I'm not going to do anything rash."

"You just said 'just me'. You can't refuse to take me and then go out with someone else. "That's rather cruel."

"I- "John shook his head. "I'm sorry." He began to walk away. "It's really not you, it's me."

"Hey, wait up." Sherlock quickly walked up to John and grabbed his shoulder. "I've watched enough Television to know what that means. You're breaking up with me, and I didn't even realise we had a relationship."

John's eyes widened and he froze. "Sherlock- please can you remove your hand from my shoulder." It wasn't a question; it was an order, and a feeble order at that.

"Not until you tell me what's going on." Sherlock retorted and tightened his grip. "You should know by now that you can't hide things from me, so you just make it easy for yourself and let me know what's bothering you."

"You already think I'm an idiot, so why not?" John shrugged. " I Sherlock, over the past few months have fallen head over heels in love with you." He tried to pull away from Sherlock but failed. "See – I'm an idiot."

Sherlock chuckled. "An idiot indeed." He whispered softly and turned John around so that they were facing each other. "An idiot for being in love with me for months without letting me know."

John moaned against the kiss, almost getting caught in the beauty of the moment. He pulled back after a few seconds, frowning, and shaking his head. "If you're just doing this because of me, don't. You're married to your work and I get that – and if you were to seek out a relationship it wouldn't be with the likes of me."

"Right now I'm being the most selfish person in the world, trust me.I want you all to myself. I want you, John, and only you." Sherlock smiled gently at John.

"I love you." John whispered, smiling despite himself.

"I love you too." Sherlock said softly. He took a step towards John and wrapped his arms around him. "I'm sorry if I made you think otherwise."

"I didn't know you wanted this." John nuzzled his nose against Sherlock's chest, happily sinking into the hug.

"I wasn't aware of it till recently and you seemed pretty adamant that you're straight." He stated simply, placing his nose in John's hair.

"I was." John replied. "I guess I'm Holmes sexual now. Congratulations on turning me."

Sherlock laughed deeply. "My best achievement so far."

"Sherlock – about my weight –"

"It's adorable." Sherlock interrupted. "And makes you all the more perfect."

John giggled. "I love you." Sherlock's words sounded genuine and washed over him like gentle waves, taking his insecurities with them.

"So I've heard." Sherlock smiled smugly, leaning in for another kiss.


As always reviews are greatly appreciated.