Waiter in a suit - A Johnlock

16. Odd behaviour

*Still recovering from this scene* ♥
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"So I guess I'll see you tonight then." John said as he shrugged on his jacket. He didn't want to leave the flat. He loved to be there. Not only for Sherlock. Well mostly for Sherlock but just... he hated his apartment. He was sick of it. Also Mrs Hudson is such a sweet woman. The flat gives him a warm feeling in his tummy. He wasn't alone there.

"Of course. I'm your waiter." Sherlock said with a grin. John sighed inwardly and nodded slightly. He then smiled at the beautiful man sitting on a wooden chair, feeling his heart aching.

"Thank you for today and yesterday. I really needed..." John paused, thinking for the right words. "This." He added with a blush blooming over his face.

"You're welcome John." Sherlock replied fondly as a huge smiled formed on his face, his eyes sparkling. John nodded once again and left the flat, door closing behind him. He took a deep breath and began descending the stairs. He rubbed the back of his head with his left hand while opening the front door. He immediately squeezed his eyes shut as the bright sun shone down on him. It's been a while since the sun came visiting London. John closed the door, deeply hoping that this wasn't the last time that he will close it.

He turned around and saw an expensive black car stopping in front of 221 Bakerstreet. John stood still for a moment, looking curiously at the car with his eyebrows pursed together in a frown. A tall thin man with an expensive suit stepped out the backseat of the car, supporting himself on an umbrella. The man didn't see John yet. He was glancing down at someone that was still present inside the car. Suddenly a smaller silver-haired man got out of the car as well. John knew exactly who this was. He remember the man from the restaurant. So the tall man had to be Sherlock's brother. John grinned as the two men were getting out, muttering to each other. John tried to hold in a chuckle, remembering the story Sherlock had told him about the two. Mycroft swivelled around, his umbrella swinging around in his hand. John swallowed, swiftly turning his head and strode away.

John didn't look back. He simply flagged down the first cab he saw, and jumped in, slamming the door behind him. He told the cabby the address and so he drove away from Bakerstreet.

John thanked the cabby and strolled towards his apartment. He sighed, dragging out his keys. Plugging them in, he twisted the doorknob and entered his apartment. He closed the door behind him, and strode into the living room. He threw his keys on the table and walked to his room. He searched for some decent clothes before entering the bathroom. He grabbed a purple towel, lying it onto the toilet. A faint smile formed on his lips as he looked down at the purple towel. John shook his head, grunting. He felt annoyed with himself. Just looking at a purple towel made him think about Sherlock. Just thinking about him made John shiver uncontrollably. It was the first time anyone has ever had that effect on him. He didn't want to go on a date with Robin. But it's the only way to see Sherlock again.

John grunted and slid open the sliding-glass door to the shower, turning the hot water on and waited for it to warm up. He then stripped and slowly stepped into the shower, letting out a soft moan of content as the warm water hit his skin.

Sherlock

God, John felt like a teenager, feeling butterflies fluttering all around in his tummy. He loved the feeling. He waited thirty-two years for a feeling like this. And he didn't want it to go away. He wanted it to stay there forever. He felt uneasy to go on a date with a man tonight. But he wouldn't care the slightest if it was Sherlock.

John turned off the water and stepped out and started to dry himself. He put on a fresh pair of boxers and pulled on his clothes for his date. After putting on perfume, he emerged the bathroom, strolling towards the kitchen so he could make himself a cup of tea. Again. He put water in the kettle and turned it on. He grinned while waiting on the kettle, feeling the butterflies bumping against his tummy as he was thinking about Sherlock again.

"God what's happening to me." John murmured to himself. The kettle began to whistle. He put the tea bag in his mug and poured the boiling water from the kettle over it. He then walked into the living room and sat on the couch. He looked over at the clock. He had two hours left before he had to go to the restaurant. He decided to watch some crap telly.
It's been two days.

**

Two hours and twenty minutes later, John climbed out the cab and crossed the street. He took a deep breath before opening the fancy door of the restaurant. A normal person would start searching for his date. But John Watson didn't. He scanned the restaurant with his eyes, trying to find his waiter. But there was no sight of the idiot. John sighed and looked if Robin was present. John resisted the urge to run away as he saw him sitting in the distance. John clenched his fist and slowly made his way over to the table, approaching Robin from behind.

"Hey." He said as he approached the table. Robin jerked his head sideways, following John with his eyes as he sat down in front of him. The corner of Robin's mouth turned upwards, obviously he was looking forwards to this.

"Hey John. You're on time." Robin joked, remembering the time when John was always late.

"Oh shut up." John replied grinning. He knew he was going to survive this. Robin was a good friend and they had a lot to catch up. But in a romantic way?

No.

He was hoping that Robin wouldn't flirt too much. It'd make him uncomfortable. Robin chuckled, and opened the menu.

"I'm going for the stew." Robin decided as his eyes were focused on the menu. John hummed, scanning the menu as well. Even though he already knew what he wanted. "Oh and I ordered champagne already. I hope you don't mind." Robin asked calmly, lifting his eyes to stare at John's hazel ones. John swallowed.

"Of course not. Everything with alcohol is welcome." John responded. Robin snorted as he rolled with his eyes and slammed the menu closed. "Guess who our waiter is." Robin added teasingly. John felt a faint blush warm his cheeks, he cleared his throat.

"Who?" John asked, knowing exactly who it was. Just when John replied, Sherlock approached the table with a bottle champagne in his hand.

"Evening." He said formally, gazing down at John briefly. The doctor jerked his face up, smiling.

"Hey Sherlock." John said, trying his hardest best not to blush in front of the two. He didn't want Robin to get suspicious.

"John." Sherlock said with his deep voice. He stiffly poured the champagne is both their glasses. Not making any eye contact with John nor talking.

"We'd like to order already." Robin said when he finished. Sherlock nodded, looking at Robin. John was staring at Sherlock, feeling his heart aching at the way Sherlock was reacting. What happened? Sherlock was acting like John was just a random customer.

"The stew menu for me and John..." Robin trailed off, looking at John. John didn't reply, he just stared blankly at the table. "John?" Robin said, louder this time. Watson shook his head, looking up.

"What?" He asked, his voice croaking softly, which went unnoticed by Robin.

"Your order." Robin said with an amused tone.

"Oh yes of course. The beef menu please." He informed, looking up at Sherlock who seemed to refuse making eye contact with John.

"Okay." Sherlock said coldly and swiveled around, but stopped as John spoke up.

"Are you okay Sherlock?" John asked. He could hear Sherlock sigh. He looked over his shoulder.

"I'm fine. Don't bother about me John." Sherlock said monotonously.

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16 chapters and still no kiss; lol sorry! Will be fixed soon ;)