Sherlock - Johnlock
John entered the flat, shopping tucked under his arm, and immediately stopped dead in his tracks. “Hey, random question, what’s all this toilet paper doing in the sitting room?” That was putting it mildly. Every available surface was covered in different brand packages of four-ply. Shrugging, John dumped the pack he’d just bought on top.
“Experiment,” said Sherlock from the kitchen, without looking up from the microscope.
“To what possible end?”
“It’s… autoethnographic,” Sherlock mumbled, and John thought he saw his cheeks turn faintly pink.
“Oh god, you just want to know which feels nice on your bum, don’t you?”