Things you need to know:

-John and Sherlock aren't together in this

-I can't write

-This is my first time writing Johnlock, probably my last

-Also my first/last time writing age play

"You need to eat" John grumbled as he made his way into the kitchen where Sherlock was sat at the table. They'd just come from the Yard after Sherlock had nearly passed out, and John was blaming it on the lack of food and sleep.

"I don't need to sleep, everything else is just transport" Sherlock murmured, running his hands through his messed up curls and looking down so his eyes didn't have to meet John's.

John's heads snapped around to look over to his flatmate, worry with a hint of anger evident on his face "Eat, Sherlock. We're talking about you not eating; see what this is doing to you? How are you supposed to do cases when you can't even repeat what I've said?"

"I made a mistake; it's not down to anything like that" Sherlock groaned as he attempted to keep his eyes open with little success.

"Stop being so immature, if you're going to act like a child then I'm going to start treating you like one" John warned, despite the fact he'd had enough of warning Sherlock about what he was going to do, time to follow up on his word.

"Whatever" he murmured as he rose from his seat and began to make his way into the living room.

John didn't let him take a step out of the kitchen before he reached and grabbed Sherlock's hand, stopping him from going anywhere. "Sherlock, sit" he demanded, the way a parent would when threatening their child.

Sherlock glared at him before trying to tug his hand away, failing miserably. "Piss off"

"Sherlock, I'm not giving you an option. Sit or I'm taking away your experiments" he growled, tightening his grip on his hand to avoid him from pulling away.

Sherlock's face fell instantly, anger turning to worry "You can't do that!" he complained, the shift in his mood evident on his face.

"I can, and I will. Now sit" he commanded, gesturing over to the empty seat he'd just left. Sherlock hesitated a moment before making his way back over and sitting down on the chair, head bowed down so his eyes couldn't meet John's. He didn't have a clue what John's plan was, however while he was curious to see where he was taking it he had to admit there was still worry bubbling up in the pit of his stomach.

John smirked a little as he watched Sherlock do as he asked, for the first time ever. It gave him a strange sense of power over Sherlock, who was usually the dominant one in every situation, and he liked it, he could easily get used to doing this. "Good boy" he grinned, running a hand through Sherlock's hair and pressing a kiss to his temple.

Sherlock blushed furiously at the kiss, his breath becoming caught in his throat. The taller man's eyes flicked up to look at the shorter man as he finally managed to understand what John was doing with this. He really was going to start treating him like a child. "I-I don't-" he began as he tried to stand back up again, only to be pushed down into his seat by John.

The smile that played on John's lips disappeared instantly, looking back to Sherlock sternly "You don't get a choice. You got a warning and you didn't listen; now you have to accept the concequences"

Sherlock whimpered a little accidentally, looking back up to John with wide, innocent eyes.

"Good boy" he said after a moment to be sure Sherlock was going to co-operate. John smiled warmly as he made his way over to the stove "I'm going to make you some food, and you're going to eat it. Okay?"

Sherlock didn't reply, looking down to his hands which were tangled in his lap. John sighed to himself as he began cooking up some soup for Sherlock. The pair spent the entire time in silence, trying to take in and understand what was going on and why. But John returned a few minutes later, bowl of warm soup in his hands and a friendly smile on his lips. He grabbed a seat and sat in front of Sherlock, taking a spoon of the soup and blowing on it to be sure it wasn't too hot "Open up sweetheart"

Sherlock blushed a little more at the pet name, but didn't deny that he liked it. He kept his lips firmly shut and looked away from John.

John sighed, frowning a little "Come on love, be a good boy for daddy"

Sherlock felt his breath catch in his throat at the name and he froze for a moment before he slowly turned back to look at John "D-Daddy...?"

John just smiled warmly as a reply, eyes scanning over his body to try and understand how Sherlock was feeling about this "Open up sweetheart"

Sherlock paused a minute before letting John feed him like he was a small child. He didn't know what to think, or how he was feeling. Angry, ashamed, embarrassed, confused yet also a tinge of mischievousness and excitement just to name a few.

"Good boy" John beamed, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to Sherlock's forehead. Sherlock blushed a little darker but in no way a negative way, and looked back up to John with his innocent eyes. John managed to finish feeding Sherlock in about half an hour, taking the pots to the sink before he sat back down with Sherlock. He held his arms out to Sherlock and found the taller man scrambling into his arms a second later, perching himself in John's lap and draping his arms around his neck. Sherlock new that usually this would be considered strange, even by him, but the little he did care about that was now long gone. "Good boy" he whispered, watching Sherlock lap up the praise.

Sherlock rested his head on John's shoulder, letting his eyes flutter shut and nuzzling up into the crook of John's neck.

"Tired?" John asked, snaking his arms around Sherlock's middle and rubbing his back.

Sherlock nodded, whimpering softly as he tried to suppress a yawn and failing.

John chuckled lightly to himself as he brought a hand up to run through Sherlock's hair "I think it's time for bed. Can you walk or do you want me to carry you?" he asked.

Sherlock shook his head, clutching John tighter "Daddy carry" he murmured.

John lifted Sherlock up, not having much trouble since in the army he had to carry back wounded soldiers on a daily basis and while Sherlock was tall he wasn't very heavy. He carried him through to Sherlock's bedroom and placed him down on the bed gently, tugging the duvet out from under him and placing it over top of him "Better?" he asked.

Sherlock nodded drowsily "Much better," he mumbled, placing a hand over top of John's and giving it a weak squeeze "Stay with me?"

"Of course, love" he said as he slipped under the duvet with Sherlock, wrapping his arms back around him and holding him close.

"Night daddy..." Sherlock murmured as he let his eyes flutter shut again and began to drift off to sleep.

"Good night love" he whispered, pressing a kiss into his curls before managing to nod off himself with Sherlock still securely in his arms.

Might continue this since it was fun, maybe not...