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    Interruptions (John/Sherlock)

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    The Consulting Detective

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    Re: Interruptions (John/Sherlock)

    Post by The Consulting Detective on Wed Jun 27, 2012 8:59 am

    Sherlock watched John closely as he was thinking. It went so slow in John's mind that he almost could hear the cogs clicking and the wheels turning. He had initially wanted to answer instinctively, but decided that it was more complicated than that. How interesting.

    He straightened up, standing still while John was rummaging around with glass shards, a normal glass and a glass bottle. "Oh, I got it wrong then, I still don't understand." he muttered. He removed his coat and scarf and hung them on the peg when John went upstairs. Then, he sat down in his armchair, grabbing his violin and plucking at the strings absent minded. He went to his Mind Palace. He stared into oblivion, frowning occasionally and humming at the stocked information he had built up in his Palace. He was in the quite empty room called 'Relationships' and he was stuffing John's explanation in it. Then he went to the room called 'John'. It was a very unorganised room, filled with different incentives and different views he had got on John.

    "Interesting" He muttered.

    John had said that he cared for Sherlock. More than anyone at the moment. But it wasn't what he wanted. He wanted romantic. And he didn't want that with him.

    But then, John had exited the room quite upset, so... Sherlock frowned. He got so many different impressions of John that he couldn't track one line. John had given Sherlock the impression that he was interested in him, romantically, when he asked him about where his interest lies.

    "It's all fine" he muttered, recalling the conversation they had on their first case together.

    But was it all fine? Sherlock frowned and plucked the strings of his violin more forcefully. He put the violin down and decided that he would rest the John room and hopped his attention back on the case.

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    Re: Interruptions (John/Sherlock)

    Post by Guest on Wed Jun 27, 2012 1:26 pm

    John poured out a finger of scotch, threw it back, coughed as the bitter liquid nearly choked him, set the glass and the bottle on his dresser, then flopped down face-first onto the bed.

    “What the hell have I gotten myself into?” he groaned. This night was not going at all how he had planned. Instead of making progress with Alice, he now had made a total fool of himself and complicated things with Sherlock- not at all ideal.

    John pushed himself up, poured another glass of scotch, and sipped at it. He opened up his computer and pulled up the tab with his blog. He sat on the bed, and went into the archives. He opened up the entry for the 29th of January 2010, the day he met Sherlock. Two hours and another glass or two of scotch later, he had gone through all the posts and comments. It was interesting, to read through his and Sherlock's relationship, remembering old cases and the domestic bits that happened in between: the head in the fridge, the horrible circus date with Sara, the first time he heard Sherlock actually play real music on the violin, lazy mornings and exciting chases, countless evenings of bad telly and Chinese takeaway. John felt warm thinking of it all, like there was a candle in his chest- it had been so long since he had paused and thought over how wonderful living with Sherlock was, he had started to take it for granted.

    In the midst of all this rather emotional reflection, John realized that his head felt a bit fuzzy and the room was tilting in a rather dire way. John stared down at the empty glass in his hand, he couldn't remember how many drinks he had poured. Damn. John scowled at the glass, choosing to blame it for his now rather obvious inebriation. He rarely got drunk, or even tipsy, always the responsible one when he went to the bar with mates- living with Harry had done that to him.

    John tried to imagine Sherlock drunk, his thoughts floating bubbly in his head. He chuckled at the idea. He pictured Sherlock coming home drunk and horny- oh, that was a nice thought- stumbling over to John and grabbing him, kissing him, covering up John's mouth with his own before any words about sexual orientation and boundaries could come out. Sherlock pushing his hands under John's jumper, rolling his hips, tugging John's hair. John suddenly realized how flushed he felt, and restless. His hands skimmed down his body, he didn't realize when he moaned out Sherlock's name.

    He woke up the next morning with a horrid headache, an empty glass, his laptop and some messy tissues on the bed next to him, and no real recollection of the events of the past evening. He sat, thought, brought up some vague memories of Sherlock interrupting a date, a conversation that he couldn't completely remember but had unpleasant emotions attached to it, drinking in his room, and Sherlock unclothed- though he suspected that the last bit was his own fantasy. WAIT WHAT?! Since when was THAT a fantasy?! Not fine, not fine at all!!!! Delete, forget that, Sherlock was his friend!!!

    Shaken, John decides that tea is necessary to deal with all this, and goes downstairs, hoping that Sherlock is out on a case.

    ((1. Sorry that these keep ending up so long, and for pretty much rendering John useless for a good 10-12 hours, he kind of freaked out. 2. If having him forget the whole morning is completely obnoxious, I can have it come back to him. Don't want to be as big of a troll as Moffat Wink 3. I don't know how clean you keep things- I guessed that with writing Irene this wouldn't bother you, but if it does, just let me know and I won't do anything more like that.))
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    Re: Interruptions (John/Sherlock)

    Post by The Consulting Detective on Wed Jun 27, 2012 9:36 pm

    ((1. No worries! I feel a noob when I see your excellent posts o.o wow. 2. I will be a troll and pretend as if nothing had happened, as you can read below. 3. Oh, honey. Writing Irene implies the whole go. So, I'm ok with everyting. 4. It would be so much fun if I could get Sherlock drunk, but that is never going to happen. It's just not his type of drug... ): ))

    Sherlock was getting ready to go out when John arrived in the living room. He inspected John with one glance. Swollen eyelids, blinking-reflex is slow, little sway on his feet, his head hanging down as if it feels heavy, bags under his eyes: Hangover.

    "I'm going to the Scotland Yard office to inspect the weapon, though I'm for eighty percent sure who the killer is... Please be careful, don't bang your head against a door or window, watch out where you walk and for Mrs Hudson's sake: don't vomit on the carpet." He said monotone and emotionless. He had put on his coat and scarf and patted John on the shoulder as if he wanted to say: Take care. He didn't mention last night. It was better not to, because Sherlock didn't know what to think of it either.

    He walked down the stairs, hailed a cab and did what he told John he would do. He wouldn't be at 221B Baker Street for a couple of hours, but his mind was with John all the time. What had he done when he was upstairs? Apart from drinking, obviously.

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    Re: Interruptions (John/Sherlock)

    Post by Guest on Thu Jun 28, 2012 1:38 am

    ((1. Oh good, I'm glad you don't mind the length. My friend I used to write with was paranoid- if I wrote anything too short and lacking in details, she would assume I was plotting something, which was true half the time. I got used to writing longer posts to keep her from getting suspicious. Your posts are great though. I feel so bad for poor Sherlock having to deal with all this in the middle of a case, he must be so annoyed! 2. Glad the sex doesn't bother you. I've never written that type of stuff before, so I'm curious to give it a try at some point.))

    Something in the way Sherlock was talking seemed off, like he was upset, but didn't want John to notice. What had happened last night?! John hated blackouts, they made him paranoid. His mind kept flashing back to the image of Sherlock without clothing. Had that actually happened? It didn't seem right, Sherlock wasn't interested in him. What if he had forced himself on Sherlock? Oh God, that would be horrible, and explain a bit of Sherlock's behavior toward him this morning. John couldn't imagine himself ever doing something like that, but...well he couldn't remember, so it was technically a possibility, and Sherlock was acting so strange.

    Just to be safe, John sent a text to Sherlock.

    Hey, just wanted to apologize for anything that might have happened last night. I have no clear memories past you interrupting my date, so I'm not sure what happened. However, if I did anything that upset you, please know that I was drunk and not myself, and I am terribly sorry. This excuse does not absolve my behavior, but I hope you will be able to forgive me. -JW

    He then looked through his phone to make sure no embarrassing calls or texts had gone out after he started drinking. It seemed he was safe, which was a small miracle. Since he happened to have the day off anyways, John decided the best thing he could do was take things easy until his head stopped aching. He forced down some plain toast and tea, popped some paracetamol, and then curled up on the couch under a spare blanket to wait for Sherlock to get home. At some point he slid sideways so he was laying on the couch, and he happened to find Sherlock's robe stuck under a cushion. Little surprise there, John had long ago established that the man had clearly never heard of a hamper- he just threw his dirty clothes wherever he felt was convenient, making finding them on laundry day impossible. John pulled out the shirt and bunched it up under his head for a pillow. Mmm, it smelled like Sherlock- night air, chemicals, gunpowder, and something darker and spicy that John could never identify. John nuzzled his face down into the robe and soon dropped off into a light sleep.
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    Re: Interruptions (John/Sherlock)

    Post by The Consulting Detective on Sat Jun 30, 2012 4:52 am

    Sherlock couldn't fully concentrate on the weapon and commented irritated on Lestrade's explanation of how .. well, Sherlock didn't even know that. On which Lestrade answered: "You seem off, do you have relationship problems?" Sherlock huffed mockingly. Lestrade continued: "Well, I was the same when I broke up with Lauren..." But Sherlock did not listen anymore. A part of his mind lingered in the John Room of his Mind Palace, still not sure about him. He deduced several major things about the weapon and assured Lestrade if the killer was left handed, black haired and had a tremor in his left hand, he would be the one. That was the moment when Sherlock got the text message.

    Sherlock frowned. John had no need of apologizing for cleaning up the mess Sherlock had made, explaining relationships to Sherlock and getting drunk in his bedroom. But what had John done in his room that made him think something upsetting had happened. There had happened something upsetting to Sherlock, which was: not solving a puzzle. John was the puzzle and Sherlock did not get a grip on him. Sherlock considered if he should text back, but decided not to. He would go home and he would pretend. Not pretend as if nothing had happened, but also not naming the thing that might had happened. He decided that he would let John guess what had happened, so that Sherlock would discover what John had done in his room. Yes, brilliant! With no announcement, he walked hastily out of the room, onto the streets, leaving Lestrade behind, muttering: "Exactly the same with Lauren."

    When he got in 221B, he cared for the silence in the apartment and slowly walked up the stairs. He figured out that John had a hangover and was probably suffering a headache and fatigue, which could easily be solved by a nap. For some mysterious reason, he didn't want to wake him. Weird... he had never cared much about John's general health before. Of course, if John was in mortal danger, he would be extremely worried. He shook his head, shoving the thought in the John Room. He opened the door, popping his head over the edge and peered into the room.

    He saw John sleeping on the couch, his head covered with Sherlock's blue robe. How odd... Why would he do that? Was his nose cold? What did his face need covering for? New questions to stock into the John room. With a blank expression, he entered the room, his footsteps clearly audible.


    ((Daww thanks! I enjoy your lengths. It gives the story more depth. 2: I hope we can delay that... and not do anything in this scène... Let's get them in a chase through London, and hiding in an alleyway next?))

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    Re: Interruptions (John/Sherlock)

    Post by Guest on Sat Jun 30, 2012 9:58 am

    When he was in university, John had always been teased by his roommates for sometimes talking in his sleep, normally when he was stressed out and slept lightly. Light noises (such as footsteps entering a room) would be enough to trigger a change in John's sleeping pattern, and he would start mumbling to himself.

    “Lock, you can't...without the sheet...No, it's not that I...see, but we are...in Buckingham Palace...should behave. Why are you pressing...against a wall? ...so close. This isn't behaving! No, don't really mind...brother's going to kill you...can't bake him in a cake...irony is amusing...glad you didn't wear pants...mmm, Sherlock, yes, and...someone's coming, should stop, and SHERLOCK!!”

    John jolted awake on the couch, confused at first as to why he was having trouble breathing and seeing. He pulled the robe off his face, staring at it confused. He then looked up to meet one of Sherlock's more inscrutable gazes, rather closer to his face than he had been expecting. Memories of the dream that had just been going through his head floated back to John, and (though he had lost his faith in the war) he sent up a quick prayer that he hadn't been talking out loud. He also quickly cast his awareness down his body to see if there was any incriminating evidence there- slightly, though with how he was laying on the sofa, he could give a small shift and it would he hidden.

    John shifted, then focused on Sherlock again.

    “Home already?” he asked, “Did you need something?”

    ((That sounds like a great plan. Wasn't intending to move to sex that fast anyways, no fun if it happens too easily. Only thing you should know is that I leave on a two-week holiday tomorrow, and will have no internet access, so can't do any updating until around the 15th or 16th Will be looking forward to coming back to see what trouble the boys have gotten themselves into))
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    Re: Interruptions (John/Sherlock)

    Post by The Consulting Detective on Wed Jul 18, 2012 8:03 am

    I have got an idea, but I haven't posted it yet, I'm sorry.
    Tomorrow is my birthday so I can't post then too...

    I am sorry to have disappointed you in not posting already Sad

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    Re: Interruptions (John/Sherlock)

    Post by Guest on Wed Jul 18, 2012 11:06 pm

    Don't worry about it, I've been so busy with getting settled back into my normal schedule that I've just gotten around to checking this and don't have much time to post for the next two days.

    HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!!

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    Re: Interruptions (John/Sherlock)

    Post by The Consulting Detective on Fri Jul 20, 2012 1:12 am

    Sherlock bowed his head over John’s so to hear every mumbled word John muttered in his sleep. He followed his train of thought entirely. He clearly was dreaming of their little encounter with Mycroft in Buckingham Palace. The story the dream had followed could be interpreted in many ways, but one was more likely than the others. Sherlock swallowed. He stocked the words in the John room, which was a mess. Glad you didn’t wear pants echoed in his mind. He shook his head, but another thought haunted him. Once you've ruled out the impossible whatever remains, however improbable, must be true.

    That was the moment when John woke up with a start. Sherlock wanted to check John’s lower abdomen to look for evidence, but John shifted ambiguously. Sherlock sat himself down on the edge of the couch, not leaving much room for John. He practically forced John’s stomach to be squeezed between Sherlock and the pillows. Of this all, Sherlock was unaware. He just wanted to sit down.

    “No. Case is closed. Easy peasy.” He paused. “Hangovers are nasty buggers so please tell me, how did you sleep tonight and just now?” He dismissed John’s further questions about the case and in turn, Sherlock wanted to have answers. He had become more and more curious about what John thought yesterday had happened. He still was determined to be neutral about what had happened.

    ((THANK YOU! Very Happy I had a nice day. My friend taught me how to play Sherlock's theme on the violin! Mom took a very Sherlock-like picture Very Happy By the way: John's dream made me roflol so hard. brilliant!))

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    Re: Interruptions (John/Sherlock)

    Post by Guest on Fri Jul 20, 2012 1:57 pm

    John tried his best to keep his face neutral, but could feel a slight blush race across his cheeks. He was forcing himself not to squirm at the feeling of Sherlock pressed so close up against him. He wished he could sit up to give himself more room, but could not think of a way to do so without revealing the...predicament in his lap (which was not getting any better because of Sherlock's proximity). Had Sherlock been any other human being on the planet, John would suspect him of sitting so close on purpose, but this was Sherlock after all.

    The strange thing was, as uncomfortable as his position was, John still found Sherlock's presence in the room incredibly comforting. Even better, Sherlock was totally focused on [i]him[/i], and concerned for his wellbeing- a rare occurrence which almost made John feel as if he were glowing from the inside out. John stared at his friend for a short moment. Perhaps, John reflected, having feelings for Sherlock really isn't such a bad thing. Aside from the obvious of him "not doing" emotions and dating, and the like. Not really anything I can do about that. Almost makes me wish that Adler woman was still alive to give me tips on trying to seduce the crazy bugger. No, scratch that, she would try to steal him for herself, and I really wouldn't stand a chance there. None the less...I think I can deal with admitting that I'm attracted to Sherlock. We're closer than normal friends anyways, if I think about this rationally, it's not really that big of a leap. I just wish there was a chance he would return my feelings. This is going to be bloody miserable, living with him like this. Still, I can't risk losing him as a friend. I'll just have to ignore the feelings, I can make them go away. Tricky part will be hiding them from Sherlock, I don't want to scare him, and he's bound to pick up on them if I'm not careful.

    "I've been sleeping fine, thank you for asking. Deeply, as far as I remember, completely passed out really. Nice escape from the headaches. Why do you ask? I don't recall having a nightmare or anything, but was I screaming? It has happened once before," John did his best to answer truthfully without giving away the true content of his dreams. He took another look at Sherlock's face, so close to his own, and marveled both at the fact that he had never before appreciated how bloody gorgeous his flatmate was, and how strong the urge was to run his fingers along those sculpted cheekbones, "Eh, Sherlock mate, would you mind budging over a bit? I'm a tad squished here."

    ((You're welcome, glad to hear you had such a fun birthday and that you found the dream amusing. It was very fun to write. Also, the italics button has yet again decided to hate me and refuses to work, so none of John's thoughts are formatted.))
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    Re: Interruptions (John/Sherlock)

    Post by The Consulting Detective on Fri Jul 20, 2012 11:09 pm

    "Actually, yes you did." Sherlock answered, ignoring his request. Personal space was not in his top priorities list right now... never actually. Sherlock frowned, staring at John's face as if he was looking for some unambiguous clues. The John Room was a total mess right now and Sherlock needed to think. But he wouldn't let this opportunity to gather information slip through his fingers, would he? He needed to be certain about what John thought last night had happened. Apparently, their talk about relationships had triggered some kind of train of thought in John's mind.

    "But don't worry, it sounded rather like a scream of pleasure." Sherlock said indifferent. It was all part of the plan to make John suspicious and paranoia and eventually open up about last night.
    With a start, an idea popped up in his mind. Had John been watching gay porn? Sherlock's frown deepened. It would be a logical assumption. Mental note: check John's browsing history.

    Sherlock cleared the frown from his face narrowed his gaze, still close to John's face and murmured in his deep voice: "Your text worried me. I am not upset by your behaviour At. All. So why bother asking?"

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    Re: Interruptions (John/Sherlock)

    Post by Guest on Sat Jul 21, 2012 9:12 am

    A scream of pleasure, seriously? That made John's face burn with humiliation. So apparently at some point in his drunken haze, John had either wanked or had a very vivid sex dream- neither of which he could even remember, which almost seemed unfair in a strange way. If he was screaming from whatever the situation was, it was probably something worth looking back on, and he had totally blacked it out. Bollocks.

    John gave the smallest of disappointed sighs at the complete disinterest in Sherlock's tone when mentioning John's "scream of pleasure", then mentally berated himself for it. He knew that Sherlock had no interest, he had just told himself that he was going to have to deal with this fact. He was NOT going to allow himself to pathetically pine over Sherlock like some girl in a bad paperback romance. He was going to ignore his own feelings, act as though everything was completely normal, and do what was best for Sherlock.

    Of course, having Sherlock stare into his eyes like that, and talk in such a deep, quiet voice really wasn't helping his plan...not helpful at all. John's mind went totally blank for a second, and he put up a valiant struggle to pull himself together.

    “Text? Oh, right, that text! Um, yeah...that probably did seem strange...”

    Christ, how was he supposed to explain that? Well, I have no solid memories of last night, except for the image of you spread out naked on a bed, and I was wondering if I had somehow stolen your (supposed) virginity. Yeah, that was sure to go over real well.

    “Well, I seemed to have blacked out most of last night. I found a mostly empty bottle of scotch in my room, and given the magnitude of this hangover, I doubt any of the memories I lost are coming back. Anyways, all I can clearly remember is you interrupting my date. I have no idea what happened after- if we fought, why I ended up upstairs trying to get drunk, what happened to you. I have fuzzy memories of an unpleasant conversation, but I'm not even sure what it was about or why I seem to recall it being unpleasant. Then you walked out this morning and seemed upset, or at the very least not your normal self...I figured it was because I did something last night that made you angry, but I didn't even know what it could be. The text was the only way I could think of to try and figure out what I did so I could try to make it up to you.”
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    Re: Interruptions (John/Sherlock)

    Post by The Consulting Detective on Mon Jul 23, 2012 5:37 am

    When John was done talking, Sherlock finally left the couch and freed John from his uncomfortable situation. He removed his coat, stretching his arms out of the sleeves while replying in nonchalance: "Oh, well. Everything's fine with me."

    Sherlock closed his eyes for a moment. His John Room was a complete mess and he needed to think thoroughly. But he didn't have all the data he wanted by talking around it, so when he looked down at John, he asked very directly: "What do you think what happened what made me feel upset?"

    Of course he had theories and one very likely, but all the clues were mixed up and crossed over others, it almost made his head ache. But he needed to know and then he would let John rest for the rest of the day.

    No he wouldn't.

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    Re: Interruptions (John/Sherlock)

    Post by Guest on Mon Jul 23, 2012 11:38 am

    [i]You bastard,[/i] John thought, [i]you're going to insist on pushing this issue, aren't you? You can't just let the damn thing rest.[/i]

    "Sherlock, I really want to just move past this. I was drunk, I wasn't myself, and it doesn't even matter. Why are you insisting on dissecting me like this, forcing out an issue that never even happened? Can't you just forget about it?"

    John looked at Sherlock, who stared back silently.

    "No, you won't do that. Fine, you prat, I'll give you your answer and then you can bugger off."

    John looked down uncomfortably. He needed to find a way to tell Sherlock a believable half-truth that would make this slightly less awkward.

    "I...at times when I'm really drunk...well, obviously my inhibitions are down and...I ted to get a bit more...eager...sexually...and pay a lot less attention to who my partner is. I got myself into some rather...regrettable situations because of this...back in university and around the beginning of my time in the Army- not often, I'm normally a careful drinker because of Harry, but a few times when I was overly emotional I didn't bother to keep track. Only happened once since then, first weekend back from Afghanistan, I was rather hoping to drink myself to the point of dying from alcohol poisoning, not really my best moment."

    John realized he was babbling and giving Sherlock a bunch of unnecessary information about himself.

    "Anyways, I was somewhat afraid that I may have made...unwanted advances on you, not aware of who you were because of the alcohol. The idea of possibly...well frankly, it would be rape- raping you obviously bothered me quite a bit once I returned to my senses."

    John gave a bitter smile.

    "Understand now why I wanted you to just leave it?"
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    Re: Interruptions (John/Sherlock)

    Post by The Consulting Detective on Tue Jul 24, 2012 1:30 am

    ((Warning: long post is long. I have taken the liberty of passing the time. If you don't agree with it, ignore it and I'll delete it later))

    Sherlock thought rapidly about what John said. Sherlock knew alcohol could do that to one. That’s one of the reasons why it wasn’t his drug of choice. It slowed your mind down and made you act irrational and impulsive. Two things he disgusted over everything. He remembered the only time he was drunk. He hadn’t been as… wise and experienced as he was now. He had wanted to test all types of drugs/recreational resources. He hadn’t forced himself on someone, nor did someone on him. He had become very thorough in deducing the shit out of the people at the party, who then had still enough sense to even not want to force themselves on him. Not the best experiment ever.

    The information John revealed about his past wasn’t surprising, Sherlock had expected a story alike, though it was nice to have his theories confirmed. He was shocked though, when he heard John had wanted to kill himself by alcohol poisoning. No no no no, I am so glad he didn’t. His jaw dropped in awe of the dreadful thought.

    “But why, it is a sound and logical reasoning, you don’t have to be ashamed of that.” He huffed a genuine laugh and smiled downwards to John. “Sex doesn’t alarm me, John, so you can talk freely.” He said nonchalant. He had never understood why sex was a taboo subject. “It is a perfect primal need of apes and mankind, an instinct I prefer not to act through.”
    “You didn’t force yourself on an unwillingly me, or how you say: rape me yesterday. Not that you can do that to me, anyway. That’s a silly thought.” He laughed out loud at imagining John groping him without his permission. He’d like to see him try.

    He was aware of the ambiguous meaning. Of course he could defend himself perfectly… but did he want to defend himself against John? Could John do something physical to Sherlock without his permission? He did not necessarily want to be groped by John, what a ridiculous thought. But would he resist, if he did? Sherlock liked danger. He liked exciting situations. He liked experimenting.

    Sherlock freed his gaze on John and switched the subject to a mobile phone business chief, who had been missing since the day before. He irregularly looked at John, who was lying on the couch, still recovering from their ‘uncomfortable’ conversation. John played subconsciously with his blue robe. The next time he wore that robe, would it smell of John? Sherlock thought. He’d have to test it. As being an experiment.

    John went upstairs that afternoon, with the meanings to catch some sleep. Sherlock was very happy about this because he really needed to think and now he had the time, finally.

    In the John Room was chaos. Piles of thoughts, heaps of rumours and solid boxes of facts were all stocked up and over another. He decided to put everything in types and cupboards. Sherlock sighed.
    Let’s get John sorted out.

    First: The Army. John was an Army Doctor, had a rough past in Afghanistan, but missed it. Sherlock put the things he had told him today in the middle-heighted closet, how he tried to poison himself in the first few weeks of duty. He stocked the remaining bits of soldier in it, his steady hand, his good feeling of justice, his captain voice...

    Second: Friends and Family. Harry Watson was an alcoholic, which caused John’s careful behaviour with alcoholic beverages. She was gay and couldn’t take care of herself, which made John feel responsible for her. They don’t have a very tight bond. Then: Sarah Sawyer, ex-girlfriend and colleague. They had get on with each other very well, to Sherlock’s vexation. It didn’t work out eventually, but they have been on good terms ever since. Mike Stamford was a peer he met in University and who had introduced them to each other. They were on very friendly with each other, often went out for a drink, though Mike was quite boring.

    Third and most important: His Character. Dr John Hamish Watson was a soldier, strong and brave. He had a good sense of humour, though he was not always on the same line as Sherlock. He was friendly, helpful and praising. He was a very human being, often lead by his emotions, which Sherlock despised, but which surprisingly caused a good ending of events. He was the best assistant Sherlock could have wished for. He complained, but eventually, the irritations were worth the adventures. He was his blogger, loyal and honest. He thought he was ordinary, but Sherlock thought he honestly wasn’t. He felt protective over Sherlock and cared for him. He was his friend. His best and only friend. Sherlock didn’t want to miss him for the world. He didn’t want to lose John.
    Ever.

    This closet had a drawer, which was called Sexuality. Here, everything went wrong. John dated stupid, ordinary women, who were utter idiots. He said he craved for intimacy, physical intimacy. Apparently, he thought that that was more important than a woman’s intellect. But when it came to choosing between an adventure with Sherlock and an ordinary date, he ran off with Sherlock. Speaking of which: John didn’t regard himself as gay. He had always been the one to emphasize that he wasn’t. Though, he thought it was ‘all fine’, maybe because his sister loved women. He was OK with it, but was very, very emphatically about making clear he wasn’t gay.

    But... John had talked in his dream about him and Sherlock (only clothed by a sheet), being in Buckingham Palace, having to hide somewhere. He had been glad he didn’t wear pants. That had to mean something.
    Alright, one could dream about such things and not wanting them to become reality... but when he screamed Sherlock’s name it was not only a warning, but he also sounded pleased, moaning even. Sherlock couldn’t deny this. He also couldn’t deny that John had looked ashamed and reluctant to tell about his thoughts about last night. Apparently, John had thought he had forced himself on Sherlock and that he had ... raped him. Sexually. Which made him feel uncomfortable and ashamed.

    Sherlock felt frustration rise up in his gut. He grunted as he got up from his armchair and started pacing through the room.

    The first night. The first night they had solved a case together, John had asked him questions. Questions about his private life, about his sexuality. Sherlock still thought John had showed his interest in him, but he was very, very clear about that to everyone. It was like a defence mechanism.

    A defence mechanism. Sherlock’s eyes opened wide. That’s it! It was a defence mechanism, like Freud's theory. Sherlock thought for a while, standing still in the middle of the room. John projected his... feelings towards society. The feeling of denial!

    Satisfied, Sherlock flopped on the couch, but his peace didn’t last long. Was John in love with him? Oh please, no. Wait... no, that couldn’t be. He knew how people acted when they were in love and the symptoms didn’t correspond with how John reacted towards him.

    Frustration raised again. Sherlock grunted even louder and pushed all the cupboards he just made in the John Room to the floor. He turned himself, face down on the pillow and grunted again. Oh God! What a mess. Why doesn’t this work, this always works! Why must this, John, me, everything be so complicated!?
    With his left arm, he searched for his violin and bow and found them. Angrily, he placed the violin on his shoulder and stroke the bow over the strings like a rasor.
    Eventually he calmed down and when John came downstairs again, the day went by like any other and they both acted like nothing happened.

    ***

    “John! Quickly!” Sherlock shouted at John, gun in hand. They had traced the murderer of the businessman of Vodafone, who had killed another businessmen recently. He and two of his henchmen had cornered their third victim, when they heard a shot directed at the wall. They had turned their heads, but saw nothing. They only heard a shout and footsteps of two men, running over the pavement. They all quickly followed, leaving their victim behind.

    Sherlock had dragged John by his sleeve away, left around a corner and right around another corner. He turned his back sometimes to see that the three criminals were following them, but they were far ahead. One of the henchmen had an injury in his left knee and suffered from diabetes. The other had back problems, because he worked in the havens.

    “Spread, now!” The ‘boss’ shouted at the others. Good Sherlock thought. He grabbed John’s hand and pulled him into a dark, narrow alleyway.
    While looking over his shoulder, Sherlock pushed John against the wall. “Shhhhh” he hushed quietly, in order to shut John’s complains up in advance. This was not the time for complaining.

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    Re: Interruptions (John/Sherlock)

    Post by Guest on Tue Jul 24, 2012 7:03 am

    ((Oh, no need to complain at all, I think it's all brilliant and was thrilled. Only things I would add change are A] I normally cast John and Lestrade as good friends and B] John is a decent enough guy to take personality (though not necessarily "intellect") into serious consideration with the girls he dates. Not sure if that would be something Sherlock would pick up on or not.))

    John was comforted that Sherlock didn't freak out about his confession, though a little concerned at how lightly his friend seemed to take the idea of someone attempting to sexually violate him. John made a note to give Sherlock another lecture on proper levels of concern for one's personal well-being. Seriously, the man had no common sense when it came to that sort of thing.

    ***

    John spent a good part of the afternoon napping, finally having a decent sleep without uncomfortable dreams. Sherlock still featured in the dreams, but they were all pleasant PG scenes- cuddles on the couch, holding hands while running from criminals, sleepy goodmorning kisses, fighting over the last eggroll at a post-case Chinese dinner. John woke up happy, though slightly embarrassed at the sappiness of his imaginings- another reason why Sherlock would have no patience in dating him, even if many of the dreams weren't actually that different from how they lived now.

    I wonder if Sherlock would sleep more if he had someone to sleep with? John mused, No, probably not, I can't really see that changing.

    ***

    John was jerked out of his half-awake daydreaming by Sherlock imitating a dying cat on his violin, and John went down to yell at him and make some tea. Things were, for the moment, completely back to normal and it was as if last night hadn't happened at all.

    ***
    Completely back to normal, meaning that the evening was spent running from criminals through the back alleys of London and trying not to get shot. John felt a warm rush of pleasure and adrenaline strum through his veins, but was soon snapped back to focus at the sounds of the henchmen's shouts coming closer.

    Sherlock dragged him around a sharp corner and was soon crowding him up against a brick wall. Ok, NOT the best position for him to be in. He could feel every inch of Sherlock's long, lean body hovering over his, and was right at eye level with Sherlock's collar bones through the opening of his coat. John's breath hitched for a moment before the shouts of the henchmen yet again did him the favor of reminding him of the important matters at hand. A sense of clarity that Sherlock then ruined by leaning down and breathing against his ear. John squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed, then bit sharply on his tongue to pull himself together.

    Two of the men were right at the end of the alleyway. John and Sherlock needed some sort of disguise. The men hadn't really gotten at look at them, if they could pretend they hadn't just been running for their lives, they could probably pull this off. Problem was their location, what other reason would two men have to be standing in a dark alley at 2 am? Oh...well that would technically work...and John might as well take the chance offered...

    John went up on tiptoes to whisper into Sherlock's ear, "I have an idea, just play along. I'm going to flip you around so you can see better."

    With that John turned so that Sherlock was the one against the wall. He then crowded in closer to Sherlock, so not a millimeter of space was left between them. He took one hand and quickly pulled off Sherlock's scarf (too recognizable), and shoved down the shoulders of his coat. He wrapped another hand in Sherlock's curls to pull down his head to shorten him. He then guided Sherlock's hands to his hips before sticking a hand between them, though keeping it right on the inside of Sherlock's thigh, instead of on his crotch as it would appear to be from the outside.

    "This will be more convincing if you make a bit of noise," John breathed along Sherlock's neck before starting to ghost his lips along the pale skin, trying to make it look like Sherlock was actually receiving a decent sized lovebite, "If you keep your eyes half closed you can watch where they go, but they shouldn't notice. Hopefully they'll be put off by the display and pass us right over."

    "Who's down there?" John heard one of the henchmen ask, walking close to their location in the alley. He gave an exaggerated roll of his hips and moaned, not bothering with dignity.

    "Just looks like a pair of poofs," the other replied.

    ((You can decide if John's plan works or not. Hopefully Sherlock doesn't end up too distracted from the case Wink ))
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    Re: Interruptions (John/Sherlock)

    Post by The Consulting Detective on Tue Jul 24, 2012 11:15 pm

    ((Thank you! I'm actually pretty proud of that post ^^ (it took me quite some time to write it, but yeah) a] I didn't really put much attention in that part, sorry. I agree with you. b] I think Sherlock is like: YOU ARE ALL IDIOTS, NO ONE CAN MATCH ME! MUAHHAHAA {except for Moriarty, of course}))

    Sherlock’s attention on the henchmen was distracted by John’s warm, irregular breath on his bare skin. He hadn’t been aware of their closeness till that moment. The September’s night air was cold and it felt quite comforting, he supposed. He was cold, it was around 10 Celsius degrees outside and the narrow alleyway had not seen sunlight in a long time.

    His calculation of how quickly they’d catch a cold and how long the sunlight hadn’t touched the grim walls of the alley was interrupted by the heavy footsteps of two pairs of boots in the end of the alley. Suddenly, he felt John shift, which Sherlock didn’t like at all. They had been exchanging body warmth, which was only working as long as two persons stayed in one position.

    Fortunately, he was rewarded with John’s breath against his ear. Sherlock had trouble focussing on the words John whispered, because his breath felt delightful against his freezing ear.

    Suddenly, he was thudded against the wall and with that, his throat released a raspy noise. He was cold again. He wanted John’s warmth back and was not disappointed. He released a satisfied (and a little surprised that John shared his thoughts) sigh when he felt John against his front again. All of John again.

    Sherlock was quickly undone of his scarf, which left his neck bare and cold. Confused, he looked down as John pulled the shoulders of his coat down and shorted him. Practiced hand, rapid and neat. He obviously had experience with this.

    Now, Sherlock was positioned with his back completely against the wall, knees bent and legs somewhat apart. John navigated Sherlock’s hands to John’s hips and all of a sudden, one of John’s hands was on Sherlock’s inner thigh. Sherlock swallowed. Well, he wasn’t cold anymore. The heat from John’s hand on his thigh, combined with John’s chest pressed against Sherlock’s, spread slowly to every nerve.

    He gave John a quizzical look, which returned a warm glance as if he wanted to say: “Trust me.” And indeed, the two men were getting closer, not able to see them very well, but that would soon change.

    Sherlock listened carefully to John’s instructions and half-closed his eyes directly. This was the right moment to start acting. Sherlock began a ‘hmmm hmmm’ in reply that he understood what John was aiming at, but he was cut off after the first ‘hmmm’. It transformed into a grunt, induced by John’s hips rolling obviously between Sherlock’s legs. The warmth that had been slowly spreading through him, got a boost.

    Sherlock considered himself in control of his body, but even he could comprehend the consequences of such an incredible obvious incentive. He couldn’t deny the natural, chemical reactions running through John’s body too and regarding the... no space between them, everything was pretty obvious.
    Sherlock suddenly understood what John had meant with ‘physical intimacy’. It felt like there existed no secrets between them. Literally. Sherlock rather liked it.

    “Oah-“ Sherlock let out a fake moan that he had ‘held back’. Making noises didn’t form a difficulty for him. All the incentives hitting him at once, made his neck crane. He saw that the henchmen were dangerously close to their current location. Sherlock wanted them to halt and threw another groan in. “Oh- JOHN!” In order to do his part of the acting, he let his left hand slide down John’s back and grabbed a handful of arse. He pulled John even closer. The other hand crawled up between them and caught hold of the zipper of his jacket. It made a nice zipping sound and when it was down, Sherlock lowered his hand even more, till he felt the metal of John’s belt. He started to fiddle it open, which made a nice rattling sound. Hopefully, that would chase the henchmen away.

    Through his eyelashes he saw the two men halting a few yards away and looking at them for a moment. One made a loathing face. “Disgusting.” He snarled and spit on the floor near them. “C’mon let’s get going.” Said the other.

    ((Sherlock = da master of disguise hehehehe))

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    Re: Interruptions (John/Sherlock)

    Post by Guest on Wed Jul 25, 2012 5:40 am

    ((Yeah, that is pretty much Sherlock's attitude toward society))

    Oh God, those noises... John sucked in a sharp breath, entranced by the gasps and moans Sherlock was letting out, Those will end up making their way into my dreams tonight, I can just tell.

    Hopefully Sherlock wouldn't be paying enough attention to notice John rapidly growing hard from their position. The sensation of Sherlock flush against him, body heat intensified by the comparative chill in the air, was driving John insane.

    Then John was completely done in. Sherlock moaned out his name in a voice that sounded like pure sin, and his let one hand drop to John's ass and the other started fiddling with John's belt.

    The hand John had placed on Sherlock's thigh tightened it's grip, and John impossibly managed to press himself even closer against Sherlock. Without noticing he ended up nipping Sherlock's neck in shock.

    A cold breeze cleared a bit of the fog that had covered John's mind, and he moved his face from Sherlock's neck to his shoulder- territory where John felt he could trust himself more.

    "Are we safe?" John panted out softly.
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    Re: Interruptions (John/Sherlock)

    Post by The Consulting Detective on Wed Jul 25, 2012 8:56 am

    Sherlock clenched his jaw and emitted an impressive moan when he felt John putting more effort in squeezing Sherlock between him and the wall. Feeling John's warm lips on his skin felt weird, being bitten even weirder. Not that he minded. The heat between them felt delightful. The nips were taken at his carotid and Sherlock hoped that John was distracted by his growing bulge than rather paying attention to Sherlock's heart fiercely pumping blood through his veins. Sherlock accidentally succeeded in opening John's belt by that time. That had not really been the plan, though there was no plan.

    "Shhh, not yet." he breathed back in John's ear, his head lowered and slightly leaning on John's. From the corner of his eye, he saw the henchmen almost disappearing at the end of the alleyway. The one who had called them disgusting looked back and halted again. Sherlock thought they had been rather quiet and that might make him suspicious. He gave a roll with his hips and groaned loudly. The man snorted in aversion and both men turned the corner. Mission succeeded.

    Sherlock sighed deeply. Finally they had driven them away. He did nothing for a few seconds, then loosened his grip on John. He let his hands glide over John before meeting the cold wall. Hopefully John couldn't see the flush that appeared on Sherlock's cheeks and the ends of his ears. That had rather felt nice, Sherlock thought aghast. John still stood very close to him and he actually... liked.. it.


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    Re: Interruptions (John/Sherlock)

    Post by Guest on Wed Jul 25, 2012 9:30 am

    ((Two post in one day!!! :D ))

    John felt Sherlock's grip on him loosening. He was reluctant to have Sherlock push him away, but he knew the time would eventually come.

    John sighed and, after taking in one last good lungful of the warm smell of Sherlock, backed up.

    "Well, that seemed to do the trick," John attempted to joke, to diffuse the rather thick tension that seemed to have sprung up.

    He gave an awkward cough, taking in the sight of Sherlock, who had gotten rather more disheveled looking than he had expected. The sight was both delicious and scandalous- Sherlock always, always looked pristine and pulled together, so the sight of him with ruffled hair and wrinkled clothing seemed almost more forbidden than the sight of him naked. John allowed himself one slow look up and down Sherlock's body, to save the memory.

    He then his attention to himself, and was surprised to find his belt fully undone. How the hell had I not noticed that happen? I must have been a lot farther gone than I realized. John fumbled with the buckle, his now numb fingers struggling.

    "Damn, was it this cold when we were running earlier? I swear the temperature's dropped, it's bloody freezing!"
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    Re: Interruptions (John/Sherlock)

    Post by The Consulting Detective on Wed Jul 25, 2012 10:25 am

    ((My. Thoughts. Exactly. ;D))

    Sherlock crossed his arms over his chest, not in a defensive way. He just felt cold. Having 37 Celcius degrees pressed up to your front for quite some time before returning to 10 degrees were certainly sensible.

    He didn't want to push John away, so he didn't. John, somewhat reluctant, let inches of air fill the space between them and he sighed. Sherlock sighed with him.

    Sherlock couldn't hold up a straight face. The corners of his mouth twitched involuntarily upward until he couldn't hold back a grin. He chuckled when he saw John taking the sight of him in. "What?" They both looked sexed-up. John looked ravished. His ears and lips were flushed, his belt undone. His eyes and fingers were restless. John avoided his gaze. When Sherlock caught it, they both burst out into laughter.

    A beat, he caught John's eyes again. They were shining and he was smiling. Beautiful Sherlock thought, aghast again of this occurring in his mind.

    A breeze stroked along his neck and he swallowed again. His neck has always been vulnerable. As a kid, his tonsils have been cut out because he caught a cold very quickly and made him silent.

    "John, where do you have my scarf?" Sherlock said somewhat husky. "I-ehm. Need it. I catch a cold very easily. That's why I always wear a scarf outside."

    John handed him it over and he put it on again. Without wasting time, he began walking towards the end of the alleyway.

    "I knew you get excited of danger." Sherlock stated, lowering his eyes to John's sacral area (though he knew it was there), knowing that John would follow his train of thought. "Don't worry." He grinned genuinely.

    "It's all fine."

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    Re: Interruptions (John/Sherlock)

    Post by Guest on Wed Jul 25, 2012 1:26 pm

    John stared at Sherlock as he started off down the alley.

    "If only it was the danger..." John muttered to himself, "So much easier to handle."

    John followed Sherlock out onto the main street, standing next to him and stamping his feet in the cold. One benefit of the weather, the freezing air had put a quick end to John's arousal, and cooled the blush off his face. He smiled up at Sherlock, a sense of fond familiarity of their situation overtaking him, and figuratively warming him.

    "So, now what do we do?" he asked, "Try to find where they went, or turn in for the night?"
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    Re: Interruptions (John/Sherlock)

    Post by The Consulting Detective on Thu Jul 26, 2012 2:36 am

    "Oh, no. They would probably recognise us now. We don't need to rescue their victim, because I texted Lestrade the location on beforehand. They'd arrived there now, I guess." Sherlock had been looking around through the street, but cast a glance on John now. He was smiling his very familiar, very warm smile up at him. It sparked something in Sherlock. Something warm. He didn't put much thought into it. Something warm was very welcome in this climate. Without knowing, Sherlock's gaze stuck on John.

    "It's approximately 2 o'clock now. I have no preferences in our activities of the night. We could go home, unless you come up with a better offer."

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    Re: Interruptions (John/Sherlock)

    Post by Guest on Thu Jul 26, 2012 10:59 am

    John looks at his watch, thankful that he works the late shift at the clinic tomorrow, and doesn't need to get in until 5 p.m.

    "If you don't mind, could we stop by the 24-hour Tesco's? The cold has given me a craving for a cup of hot cocoa, and we don't have any mix in the house."

    Sherlock doesn't voice an immediate objection to the plan, so John starts off in the direction of the nearest Tesco's.

    John shivers again, he's fairly sure that the temperature has dropped even more, probably down into the single digits. He wishes he had worn gloves, and right now the idea of curling up with cocoa in front of the fire back at home sounds like the definition of bliss to him. Perhaps Sherlock will even feel like playing proper music on his violin, something that always held John (who could never manage to coax more than a choppy string of notes out of any instrument) enchanted.

    John looks back to see if Sherlock is following him, and gasps in delight.

    "Snow!"

    The white flakes have just started to fall, giving Sherlock a light coating of white to the tips of his ebony curls.
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    Re: Interruptions (John/Sherlock)

    Post by The Consulting Detective on Fri Jul 27, 2012 1:31 am

    "Yes, sounds like a sound plan. I'm cold too... again." Sherlock said as a-matter-of-fact. Though he thought everything else than brainwork was transport, he did feel cold and he did have no cases planned, so there was no objection to a warm beverage.

    Sherlock didn't follow John at first, but looked up. Snowflakes were falling from the sky. He put on his gloves and looked at John, who had exclaimed a cry in delight at the sight of snow. He couldn't help but smile. John was captain Obvious.

    "Snow." He said. "Obviously" he muttered. Somehow he didn't want to disturb John's excitement. He huffed a laugh and started to walk next to John. "You know what is so special about snow?" He didn't wait for an answer and started explaining how special water was. That a cloud was actually floating water. Normally, when it rains in Britain, up in the sky, where it is cold, the rain is actually snow, but when it comes nearer to the earth, it melts into raindrops. Each and every snowflake is unique and there are many different types of snow. Some are wet, some are dry and very useful for tracing footsteps.

    He was still talking when they arrived at Tesco's, but paused to make a deduction of the female cashier. She should find an other job, because her boss had kind of sticky hands. This was actually a very friendly advice, but how Sherlock brought it to her... Well, he didn't care, though John said it was rude. "But it's the truth!" He said in defence, the cashier in tears. They walked out and Sherlock carried on with his talk about H2O. Every now and then, he looked at John and checked if he was interested in what he was telling him. John seemed to be interested, though he glanced regularly at his hair. He let him. His hair was probably coated with snow, but Sherlock didn't mind. If he would shake it off, it would be coated again, so he didn't bother.

    John was looking rather... healthy. Sherlock didn't really knew how to put it. Snow was also falling down on the tips of his hair, which made him look even more grey, but Sherlock thought it suited him. A blush and a satisfied smile coloured his face, which was very... enjoyable to look at.

    When they arrived at Baker Street, Sherlock pulled out his key and opened the door. He swept his feet before jumping up the stairs, John close behind. Sherlock shrugged his now-damp coat off, hung it up the peg and made a fire in the fireplace. He was cold, though he would not admit it to John.

    ((I think that they should talk about what happened, because it is quite... awkward maybe?, but Sherlock is not the kind of person to start that conversation.))

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    Re: Interruptions (John/Sherlock)

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