Sherlock was not the only man in 221B to get bored; John frequently felt fed up too. He, however, did not resort to shooting at walls and sticking bees in the microwave to cure it.
John would look through his boyfriend's photo albums.
The albums were a perfect reflection of Sherlock's personality. Each page was filled with snapshots of experiments and particularly interesting cases. One thing it lacked in was what would be considered normal photo album content: holidays, friends, family, and memories.
One day, however, John found what would be considered a typical photo album, one filled with photos from Sherlock's youth. John smiled to himself when he saw the first family photo, glad to have something less gruesome than usual, and began to flick through.
What he saw gave John a bit of a shock. As his eyes glanced over his picture, he didn't see Sherlock anywhere. But with a closer look, he saw the unmistakable cheekbones upon a rounded teenage boy.
Sherlock had been, well, fat.
The further John delved into the album; Sherlock's weight seemed to fluctuate between overweight and normal until suddenly the weight dropped off. The young man on the pages now was spitting image of the older man John knew now. Pictures with Sherlock in now grew rare as John reached the final pages of the album. The pictures were mostly dedicated to his family, and when Sherlock did occasionally appear in them, he wore a face of discomfort. He almost looked self conscious.
Unease spread through John. While he was not a mental health professional, during his recent times as a doctor he had seen the odd eating disorder case. He couldn't help but feel that the sudden loss of weight, the insecure expression in the photos, showed signs of something serious.
No, John thought to himself. Sherlock's fine. He's healthy. He runs about all over the place.
Excessive exercise.
"Stop it," John whispered out loud to himself just as his boyfriend walked through the door.
"Stop what?" Sherlock asked pleasently. He walked over to John, smiling, and planted a kiss on his forehead.
Then he saw the book on John's lap.
"What... Why are you looking at that?" Sherlock's eyes were wide and his voice panicked. He was afraid. Sherlock was never afraid.
"Oh, um, I was just tidying up and..." John trailed off. There was no point lying to the only consulting detective in the world.
"No, no, you were looking at the photo album. I can tell. You've got a little paper cut on your left thumb from reaching over and turning the page. And that page is bent. And... And..." Sherlock sat down, shutting his eyes and pressing his fingers together, and breathed slowly.
John didn't dare say a word. The man beside him who was usually so controlled was breaking down, simply because John was looking through a photo album. Sherlock had let John look through his other photo albums. In fact, he'd encouraged it; he'd wanted John to see all his experiments. He would stand over John's shoulder sometimes and give explanations for various photos.
This album was different. This album heldpictures of Sherlock as an overweight teen. Perhaps that was why Sherlock was freaking out.
Low self esteem.
Self conscious.
"Stop it!" John shouted. Sherlock jumped slightly and looked up.
"No, not you, me..." John felt himself growing hot. Sherlock chuckled as John's cheeks grew red, but it sounded rather forced.
"You're a bit of an idiot, sometimes, John," Sherlock said. He was trying to sound natural but withlittle success. He wrapped an arm around John's shoulders and leant against him.
John immediately noticed how thin Sherlock's arm was.
"Sorry about my freaking out, there. It's been a long day. I don't know what got into me." Sherlock words rushed out, sounding desperate. "I got the milk!"
John accepted Sherlock's attempt at distraction and made them both tea.
"No milk for me, John!" Sherlock called.
"I know!"
Avoiding fat.