"Sherlock-is that my computer?"

"Yes. Mine was in the bedroom." They both let a small smile cross their lips at those words: the bedroom. Only one bedroom. Their bedroom, as of a few weeks ago.

"Right. Well. Could you go and get yours, so that I can use mine?"

"No. Now tell me your password."

John sighed, realising that it would be far to much effort to argue with Sherlock about getting his computer back; but there was no way he was giving his exasperating flatmate (and boyfriend? lover? How did they define their relationship now?) his password.

"Nope. You guess it, Mr Clever-deductive-clogs."

"Fine. It shan't take me more than a few seconds anyway."

John thoroughly believed him, and so went about fetching Sherlock's computer from their bedroom. Once again, John smiled at the thought of their shared bedroom, before settling himself comfortably into the couch opposite Sherlock.

"Guessed it yet?"

"No. Thinking."

"Well, it's been more than few seconds."

"It'll obviously have to be some obscure personal reference, if I haven't guessed it by now."

"It's really not. Would you like a clue?"

"No!"

"Too bad. It's something that's very important to me."

"I've tried jam; I've tried various aspects of the solar system; I've tried everything I could think of!"

"Obviously not. It's perhaps the most important thing in my life at the moment, and hopefully for the rest of my life as well."

Sherlock stopped tapping his fingers impatiently on the side of the laptop, and glanced quickly up at John, surprised.

"It's not- no. No! Really?"

"Try it."

Sherlock's fingers flew over the keys, and to his surprise, when he hit enter the password was accepted.

"Did it work?"

"Yes but… I mean… Surely not."

"It worked though, didn't it?"

"Yes."

"Well, it must be true, mustn't it."

"I mean that much to you?"

"Of course you do, you berk." John laughed affectionately

Sherlock put the computer on the side table, and made his way over to John's chair, where he wrapped his arms around the smaller man. "I love you too."

"I'm glad." And John truly was. Not because he had the most wonderful man in the world's arms wrapped around him, not because he knew that Sherlock loved him- but because he knew how strange Sherlock found it to say those words, and he knew that Sherlock saying them meant that Sherlock felt loved, and for John, that meant the world was nigh on perfect.