//I'm back?? That's cool. This story was based off of this prompt^^, which I absolutely love. So please enjoy!
Genre: Fluff
Ship: Kind of platonic JohnLock, but it could be romantic too idk
CW/TW: Talk of food, a little bit on how he doesn't eat enough sometimes, but it doesn't go too in depth or anything so//

It was an ordinary morning in 221B Baker Street, with both John and Sherlock in their respective chairs.
John was reading a new book and Sherlock, he had assumed, was in his Mind Palace. They'd been given a particularly difficult case surrounding little chalk stick figures; Sherlock was perplexed. Well, he had thought he was in his Mind Palace, that was until Sherlock cleared his throat and looked at him with a confused expression.

"Why are these on my chair?" John looked up from his book, tilting his head.

"Why was what where?"

Sherlock gestured wordlessly to the arm of his armchair, on which were four neatly sectioned pieces of orange slices. John nodded his head in understanding, shrugging in what he thought of as a casual manner, but in reality was jerky and nervous.

"Well, I uh-"

"Nevermind; bad question. Doesn't answer my actual inquiry. How long has this been happening for?" John clicked his tongue in frustration, annoyed that  he had moved on without letting him answer.

"Um, I think a little while after I first moved in. Like, two months? I dunno. I left them there on accident the first time but you never seem to eat enough anyway so I kinda just..." he trailed off, feeling his face flushing while hoping he wouldn't have to explain further.

"You've been... feeding me... without my noticing?" Sherlock was baffled. Normally he just sat down in his chair and entered his Mind Palace without a second thought. He hadn't even noticed the small amounts of food that John had been leaving him. Sure, maybe in some crevice of his mind he'd felt his hand brush against a piece of orange, but usually he was so intent on figuring out cases that it's barely crossed his mind.

"Has it been just oranges?" He questioned curiously, picking up a piece and nibbling on it while John awkwardly shuffled in the chair opposite. To be honest, he felt like a kid who had just been sent to the Headmaster's office for doing something stupid.
He'd also realised that even if he stood up to leave now, Sherlock wouldn't let it go; hell, he'd probably barge into his room at midnight demanding answers if he didn't respond now.

"Well, no. Just whatever we happen to have in the house that I could break up small enough. Quarters of boiled eggs, orange slices, I even cut up some pieces of toast into squares at one point 'cause we had nothin else." A small smile grew on John's face, but he quickly wiped it away by clearing his throat and patting his knees.

"Okay, then thank you." John looked up, slightly confused. A small part of him thought that Sherlock would be irritated, what with the whole "digestion slows down thinking" bollox.
"I did actually wonder why I never seemed to lose weight, because I knew for a fact that I wasn't eating, nor making an effort to. I didn't even consider that you might have been so thoughtful. So I do appreciate what you've been doing." He briefly flashed a grin at John, who returned it, if not more incredulously.

"I mean, it wasn't a problem. It was no big deal or anything-"

"It may not have been to you, John, but diet is very important yet I neglect that fact a lot, I admit. What you've been doing is probably the only sustenance I've had for a while, so it is a 'big deal'. So yes, thank you."
John was about to deny again, but from the look on Sherlock's face they'd just end up in a figurative Sisyphean nightmare. So instead, he just smiled and brushed it off.

"You're welcome, then."

Of course, the food didn't stop after that conversation. No matter how often he tried, Sherlock usually and constantly forgot to eat and obviously John knew, so he continued to leave bits of food next to him. Because, of course, if there was anything he could do to help Sherlock, he's instantly do it. That caring nature was probably the thing Sherlock loved most about John.

So yes, an ordinary day it was indeed.

//Idk man, I just like this idea 😌
If you have any suggestions, please give me them because ya bitch needs ideas //