Chéri

Note: All situations or characters’ hobbies are my headcanons, some based on canon.

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Sherlock is a picky eater.

Although his expertise ranges from medieval pottery to biology, and even though he could have become a famous violinist or the greatest actor if he had wanted to, he chose instead to be a consulting detective. In some fields, his knowledge is so dramatically vast that few people could ever catch up without dedicating their lives to them. However, ‘food’ has never been on his list.

“The senses become more refined when we starve them. What digestion brings to us through the blood supply is greatly lost to the brain. I am a brain. The rest of me is just an appendage. So I must consider the brain."

That is Sherlock’s motto. And it is Mycroft’s biggest concern about his younger brother. Mycroft often thinks Sherlock would die in his flat one day, after observing how he sometimes refuses to leave the apartment for several days whenever he has no real cases.

Mycroft once asked Mrs. Hudson for help. She would give Sherlock food whenever she could, but he often let it rot in the refrigerator — much to her displeasure. Things slightly improved after she complained, but Sherlock still kept skipping meals, diving straight into his cases.

Mycroft remained disconsolate. Then John Watson appeared, almost like a gift.

—

Sherlock Holmes has a gentle, considerate roommate: John Watson. A former military doctor, just back from Afghanistan, carrying the shadows of blood and guns. In Sherlock’s eyes, they are the most suitable flatmates ever, with only a few minor problems surfacing from time to time.

Lately, Sherlock has noticed something new. John seems unusually concerned with his eating habits (certainly not his own). He reminds Sherlock whenever he skips more than two meals a day, and sometimes even leaves random sandwiches or pieces of fruit on his desk — things John had never done before. Sherlock guesses this might be a sign that John is fed up with Mrs. Hudson’s food, or perhaps just following one of Mycroft’s usual commands. Either way, for whatever reason, Sherlock decides to take care of his roommate’s digestive system instead of letting him fuss pointlessly.

So he invites John to go out with him.

Thanks to the connections he has built over the years, Sherlock knows exactly which restaurants in London are truly worth visiting. John is visibly surprised by the invitation (he never thought Sherlock cared about food — much less something as “romantic” as dinner), but he accepts almost immediately.

Everything turns out to be fun — and delicious. Sherlock proves to be an unexpectedly wonderful companion, able to tell exactly what John likes and dislikes with a single glance. Curry, Chinese food, creamy pasta, or anything else — the menu always seems to match John’s taste before John himself even realizes it. And Sherlock… finds himself secretly enjoying the act of watching John eat. For the first time in his life, he discovers a strange satisfaction in it. Cases remain fascinating, but spending time with John feels just as compelling.

Quietly, Sherlock adds this new hobby to his private list.

As for Mycroft, he finally discovers a way to fix his brother’s bad habit: all Sherlock really needs is a flatmate who loves food. Perhaps Sherlock might even grow to like John one day — after all, people often share the habits of their friends.

Or maybe, Sherlock has simply found a new delight in his roommate.