DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN SHERLOCK
It was a while before it became noticeable. John had never noticed it, and neither had Sherlock, which was surprising, seeing as it was he, who had the truly spectacular deducing skills. But to everyone around them, it was so obvious, even to Anderson. The way they looked at each other, the way they were around each other, and the way the depended on each other. But now it was staring them in the face. And John didn't know how to handle it.
He'd never been attracted to other men, but as time went on, he found that he wasn't in to women either. He only ever had time for Sherlock.
It was Sherlock who noticed it first.
...
John was at work, annoyingly, and he had to go to the crime scene without him. Lestrade gave him the address of a small council house, two floors, not very well kept. Neglected gardens. Home to a rather large family, judging by the toys and shoes that littered the hallways.
"Ah, Sherlock, glad you're here, his Mum found him, just died when she got there, died from some sort of drug, nothing found on him though" Lestrade then looked at him funny. "Where's John?" Lestrade asked.
"At work, let's not waste time with idol chatter, show me the crime scene" Sherlock snapped.
He'd never admit it, but he rather disliked being without John. It felt... strange.
'Sentiment' Sherlock reminded himself. He told himself to stop being so human. Lestrade lead him into a darken room, with a man slouched in the corner, late teens or early twenties, white as a sheet. Sherlock scanned the room looking at the details he was certain the useless lot here would had missed out. No signs or struggle, open window, man died of substance abuse. Mistaken of a murder because of the lack of drugs found on the body. Sherlock shot outside, and found the window. He looked in the greenery and found a small plastic packet, a spoon and a needle. Oh my god Scotland Yard was thick.
He went back inside and shoved the found objects in Lestrade'd hand.
"It was an accidental heroin overdose. Surely you and your team could have done this without my help? Are you blind as well as stupid?" Sherlock basically growled.
Wasting his time, because they wanted a quick answer.
"How?" Lestrade managed to get out.
"Living with the family, got into drugs through a gang, looking at that tattoo" Sherlock pointed at some sort of logo that was on the mans left arm. "Was new to drugs, due the the frankly alarming amount he took, probably to impress the gang, took to much, chucked the stuff out the window when he heard the family coming in, didn't want to get caught, and collapsed in the corner and died"
When Sherlock had finished his deduction, he looked for John with smile already forming on his face. It soon slipped off when he realized he wasn't there. He realized he only ever bothered saying the deductions out loud because he wanted to see John smile and tell him he was brilliant. Sherlock cursed under his breath. Lestrade wasn't as stupid as he thought he was, because he noticed.
"Sherlock, it's ok to miss him" Lestrade said cautiously.
"I have no idea what you're on about Lestrade" Sherlock said neutrally.
"Well that'd be a first" Lestrade mumbled under his breath, loud enough for Sherlock to hear him.
Sherlock furrowed his eyebrows, then swept out of the house, in a worse mood than before. Boredom was inevitable. When Sherlock got into a cab, and gave him his address, thought of John. He doesn't know how he stands having a job. It must drive him insane.
Good job he's got Sherlock to give him some excitement in his life.
...
When he get's home, he finds John sitting in his usual chair, reading the newspaper.
"How was the case?" John asks straight away.
"Dull" He replies.
"Hungry?" John asks, already getting up to look at the takeaway menus.
Sherlock doesn't answer, which means 'whatever', so John orders enough Chinese for two people. When it comes, John asks when was the last time he had eaten.
"Well, what day is it today?"
"Tuesday"
"Last... er, Thursday"
John gives him the look. It's the look that means, no matter what Sherlock says, he will be eating whether he likes it or not. John doesn't even reply, he simply piles food on to a plate and hands it Sherlock with a fork.
"You will eat all of that, or I'm dragging you to a hospital where they'll keep you in for days" John states, leaving no room for discussion. Not even the great Sherlock Holmes can talk his way around John, when's he's given him that look and spoken in that voice.
Sherlock physically cringes at the thought of it. He obeys and eats the entire thing. His heart jumps when John smiles at the empty place.
He blames the food.