Chapter Text
“You brought me breakfast?”
“Well you said you always forget to eat before you go to work, so I thought I’d make sure you ate something.”
John blinked up at the brunet, not entirely sure what to say to that. Sherlock, who couldn't remember that the earth went around the sun, remembered that John often forgot to eat before work. Though maybe, John's surprise (and that oddly warm feeling, too) came from the fact that Sherlock had cared enough to bring him breakfast. That the other man had trekked across London, most likely put up with cramped tubes or an uncomfortable cab ride, and delivered John breakfast.
It was an odd but strangely lovely feeling, if he was being entirely honest.
"John? Are you alright? I was sure you liked the breakfast sandwiches from—"
Hastily, he shook his head. "No! No, Sherlock I do. I do..." With an overwhelmingly fond feeling, John smiled. "I just didn't expect this. Thank you, Sherlock."
For a moment, Sherlock's lips turned up at the corners before he cleared his throat and nodded curtly. "Food is an unfortunate necessity to sustain life," he said bluntly. "I can't have my blogger lagging behind simply because of a missed meal."
Briefly, John raised his eyebrow at the hypocrisy of the statement, but decided to let it slide as to not ruin the moment. Instead, he simply nodded.
"Yes, well...regardless, thank you."
Sherlock blinked, and after a moment of silence and fidgeting, nodded once more. "Right, well...goodbye, then."
The other man turned on his heel abruptly—walking out of John's office without another word.
John chuckled to himself, smiling in a way that had no right to be so affectionate.
As he opened the paper bag (smile still on his face), the door to his office opened, and one of his coworkers popped their head in, a knowing grin on their face.
"Special delivery?"
He huffed, rolling his eyes, but secretly pleased. Maybe he didn't mind being someone Sherlock cared about.