Baker Street Boys

1

*Hello everyone!!! so uhmm this is my first ever book and you may support it because trust me I'll keep updating just for you(I mean it) and I don't take any request (sorry for disappointing you)
And I'm a fanboy of sherlock and massive shipper of johnlock n mystrade(weird isn't it?) so let's just scooby-doo this shit!!)
Enjoy your reading sweetheart. ;)

*Basically, Sherlock snaps as he can't deduce why John acts odd around him.*

John has been acting very strange lately, yet Sherlock couldn't find a clear conclusion to what exactly is causing him to act so strange. He tries to hide it and act normally but he fails miserably.
He has been quiet, well, more quiet then has been in the past, he would only briefly look at him and have very short conversations with Sherlock, and he would avoid Sherlock whenever he could, he would even stay in his room for long periods of time just to get away from him. Sherlock found this quite unsettling. He didn't act strange while he was with anyone else. He would look over his composure when he was alone, it was calm and relax, laugh though he would often survey his surroundings as for looking for him. After being so use to Sherlock, he would know instinctively when Sherlock is around and he would viably tense when he would even enter the room. His smile would change ever so slightly and he would look uncomfortable.

The tension in the air whenever Sherlock would stand close to him would be so thick someone could cut it in half, this led to many people to walk away and avoid them. Lestrade would look between them and then look away trying to suppress a smirk, like he knew what was happening, and it infuriated Sherlock, but that didn't come close he saw Donovan and even bloody Anderson, chuckling smugly and exchange knowing glances whenever the two of them would pass by. He nearly blew up.

He had just finished a case which Lestrade gave him, simple, too easy. A part-time officer could have solved it. It would take them longer, but they would still solve it. What a waste for my mind.
He heard rustling in the kitchen, he looked up to see John stick his head out. “Would you like a tea?” His voice was quiet, like it has been.
Sherlock smiled politely, “Yes please, John.”
A very light shade of pale pink rose on John’s cheeks and he ducked his head back in so fast that if was anyone else it would have simply slip by, but this is Sherlock. Sherlock sighed and leaned his head back against the chair. What is it? What’s wrong with him? He rubbed his temples, recalling events to examine.Was it me? Did I do something wrong? Maybe I should apologize...but he normally points out when I do something...

Sherlock came to terms with his concern a few days ago, when he thought John was just playing a game with him. After two weeks of the unusual activity he finally went straight up to John and asked him. John just looked away flustered and said ‘nothing’. Sherlock pressed as he knew there was something wrong but John didn't respond he ducked his head. So Sherlock just let him be. However, that was when John starting making an effort to avoid him.

Sherlock sighed and banged his head back against the chair. What’s wrong with him?! It annoyed Sherlock as this is the first case in a while which he couldn't solve and it was getting to him. It made it even worse to know that it was bloody John. John Hamish Watson. He just wanted to talk to John and help him, John was his one and only friend. Isn't that what ‘friends’ do? Help each other?

So why won’t John let him help him?

“Sherlock?” John’s voice brought Sherlock from his thoughts. He looked up and saw John had placed his tea on the table and then John started to walk back to the kitchen.
“John!” John turned and stared at Sherlock. “Thank you.” Sherlock smiled.
John flushed again and Sherlock tilted his head to the side. Blushing?
“Are you okay, Sherlock? That’s unusual for you to thank me.” John tried to do his smirk, failing.
“No, I’m not John.” Sherlock responded massaging the bridge of his temples again.
John walked back to his chair and placed his tea on the table. “What’s wrong, Sherlock?”
“You.”
“Me?” John’s eyes widened
“You've been acting so oddly lately and it’s been distracting me. It keeps working into my thoughts, keeping me unfocused”
“Nothing’s wrong with me, Sherlock.” John’s face was pink again. Why is it doing that? It's not warm. Sherlock has ruled out any diseases or viruses weeks ago. "I'm fine."