A Study of Lovers (Johnlock fanfic)

The Beginning

Hey guys! This is my first time writing a fan fiction and I'm really excited about it, but don't be too harsh with the words on feedback. I really hope you guys enjoy it as much as I do writing it!

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John Watson breathed in the stale scent of cheap wood and wall plaster as he slowly let his eyes open, letting the rays of sunshine peak through the dark blue curtains of his bedroom. A loud crash rang out from the kitchen downstairs, as he shared a flat with the brilliant Sherlock Holmes, followed by a sequence of obscene language. John sighed and slowly crawled out of bed, only to saunter downstairs and find Sherlock holding his left thumb and biting his lower lip.

"What the bloody hell was that?" John slurred; letting his eyes adjust to the sudden brightness of entering the flat. He noticed the broken glass that lay across the floor surrounding Sherlock's feet as some must've skidded all the way to the sitting room. Sherlock gave John those sad puppy eyes when he needed help or comfort from John.

"Let me see." John walked into the kitchen and held out his hand to Sherlock. He reluctantly placed his hand into John's as he inspected the wound. "That's pretty deep, let me fetch my first aid kit." John left the kitchen and out to the sitting room to find his first aid kit sitting on top of the table; collecting dust. As he wrapped the gauze around the wound, he felt the wandering eyes of his good friend singe an unfamiliar look into the side of his face. He noticed Sherlock staring at him with a smile upon his face as he carefully wrapped the cut that took up the side of the detective's palm right under his thumb.

John cleared his throat and swallowed hard, trying to advert the attention of Sherlock from him staring at his face.

"Anything for breakfast?" John tried to cut the tension. As soon as he said so, the tea kettle started singing its usual morning song. Sherlock released the grasp of his gaze as John finished wrapping his hand and tended to the tea.

"Thank you John."

John almost choked on his own tea as he took a sip from his cup. "What? You've never thanked me for anything." John said as he leaned against the counter and watched as Sherlock grabbed his usual cup from the cupboard, poured himself a cup, and sat in his usual spot of the sitting room as John joined him across from him. As Sherlock gave him that same look of what seemed to admiration, something that John has never seen from him. Feeling somewhat uncomfortable, John had to break the tension that was in the empty and silent flat.

"I'm just going to go take a shower." As John got up to go to the bathroom, he couldn't help but feel something that made him question his own well-being and question what Sherlock was up to.