Three Little Words (Sherlock/John, G-rated, cuddleverse)
AUTHOR: Salustra
E-MAIL: Salustra: goddess_salustra@juno.com
TITLE: Three Little Words (fourth in the Cuddleverse)
RATING: PG
PAIRING: Sherlock/John
CONTENT: none
SUMMARY: Sherlock and John have trouble over the 'three little words'.
SPOILERS: through 2 x 01 A Scandal in Bohemia
DISCLAIMER: Playing wit the boys, but we’re just having fun. No money made, don’t sue us! (or, in more formal language-
Copyright Disclaimer I do not own any characters, products or services depicted in this story which you recognize. Original characters/characterization and plot are mine. Buffy The Vampire Slayer and Angel The Series characters are OOC and I cite section 107 of the US copyright clause on 'fair use' to be found HERE
Principally this is a transformative work, for enjoyment only, has a selective audience and I make no profit. )
FEEDBACK: Yes please.
Length: 545 words.
John felt that he was living in a starkly divided world. There was daytime, when everything was so-called normal. The two of them shared a flat and worked cases and Sherlock either ignored him or kept talking even if John wasn't there. Then there were the nights, and almost every night was a venture into the realms of bodily pleasure. And Sherlock would say things. And John would say things. They hadn't said the fateful three little words yet but they'd said everything but.
Everything but. And only at night. In the daytime they pretended that the nights didn't exist. That the passion that was there in the nights was completely non-existent during the days. Which was fine for Sherlock but becoming less and less fine with John.
Each day that passed as Sherlock ran out of cases and got bored and John was the recipient of his nasty barbs and distracted monologues during the day, John's patience grew thinner. The strain of not saying or hearing those three little words, the division between the day and the nights, it was getting intolerable.
Then came the day he'd pushed him too far and John went out into the night to spend the night elsewhere and left Sherlock all alone. How could he know there would be an explosion not long after he walked through the door? He came running back, prepared to say the words even if there wasn't a response.
But Mycroft was there, and the bounds of propriety held them both in. Then the game began, Moriarty toying with Sherlock, and there was nothing but the work. It was all John could do not to strangle Sherlock for being so cavalier about the poor souls Moriarty strapped up with explosives. He seemed further and further away from those three words as the case dragged on.
Until the pool. Until they both had been in mortal danger and each tried to save the other. When Moriarty walked out the door, finally, John could not stop himself.
"What happened there?" John asked.
"Someone changed his mind," Sherlock responded. "The question is....who?"
"I love you," John blurted out. "I never want to get that close to death again and not have said it. I'm sorry if it scandalizes you or crosses some line but right now I really don't care all that much about your lines. So go ahead, make some cutting remark, make me feel..."
"I love you too," Sherlock interrupted.
"What?" John asked, not sure he'd heard correctly.
"I love you too. And that's the only time I intend to repeat that. Did you get it?"
"I did." John was grinning widely, and chuckled. "It only took nearly getting killed to get it out of you but I have at last heard it. So, do we actually get to occasionally act like a couple during the day now?"
Sherlock sighed. "If we absolutely must. Don't expect it on a regular basis though."
"Oh, no, of course not." John giggled. "Let's go home. The case is over, you need some food."
"Yes, dear," Sherlock said, getting another giggle. "What? I was trying to act like I was in a couple for you."
"Perfect. Home. Now." John took Sherlock's elbow and guided him towards the door.
E-MAIL: Salustra: goddess_salustra@juno.com
TITLE: Three Little Words (fourth in the Cuddleverse)
RATING: PG
PAIRING: Sherlock/John
CONTENT: none
SUMMARY: Sherlock and John have trouble over the 'three little words'.
SPOILERS: through 2 x 01 A Scandal in Bohemia
DISCLAIMER: Playing wit the boys, but we’re just having fun. No money made, don’t sue us! (or, in more formal language-
Copyright Disclaimer I do not own any characters, products or services depicted in this story which you recognize. Original characters/characterization and plot are mine. Buffy The Vampire Slayer and Angel The Series characters are OOC and I cite section 107 of the US copyright clause on 'fair use' to be found HERE
Principally this is a transformative work, for enjoyment only, has a selective audience and I make no profit. )
FEEDBACK: Yes please.
Length: 545 words.
John felt that he was living in a starkly divided world. There was daytime, when everything was so-called normal. The two of them shared a flat and worked cases and Sherlock either ignored him or kept talking even if John wasn't there. Then there were the nights, and almost every night was a venture into the realms of bodily pleasure. And Sherlock would say things. And John would say things. They hadn't said the fateful three little words yet but they'd said everything but.
Everything but. And only at night. In the daytime they pretended that the nights didn't exist. That the passion that was there in the nights was completely non-existent during the days. Which was fine for Sherlock but becoming less and less fine with John.
Each day that passed as Sherlock ran out of cases and got bored and John was the recipient of his nasty barbs and distracted monologues during the day, John's patience grew thinner. The strain of not saying or hearing those three little words, the division between the day and the nights, it was getting intolerable.
Then came the day he'd pushed him too far and John went out into the night to spend the night elsewhere and left Sherlock all alone. How could he know there would be an explosion not long after he walked through the door? He came running back, prepared to say the words even if there wasn't a response.
But Mycroft was there, and the bounds of propriety held them both in. Then the game began, Moriarty toying with Sherlock, and there was nothing but the work. It was all John could do not to strangle Sherlock for being so cavalier about the poor souls Moriarty strapped up with explosives. He seemed further and further away from those three words as the case dragged on.
Until the pool. Until they both had been in mortal danger and each tried to save the other. When Moriarty walked out the door, finally, John could not stop himself.
"What happened there?" John asked.
"Someone changed his mind," Sherlock responded. "The question is....who?"
"I love you," John blurted out. "I never want to get that close to death again and not have said it. I'm sorry if it scandalizes you or crosses some line but right now I really don't care all that much about your lines. So go ahead, make some cutting remark, make me feel..."
"I love you too," Sherlock interrupted.
"What?" John asked, not sure he'd heard correctly.
"I love you too. And that's the only time I intend to repeat that. Did you get it?"
"I did." John was grinning widely, and chuckled. "It only took nearly getting killed to get it out of you but I have at last heard it. So, do we actually get to occasionally act like a couple during the day now?"
Sherlock sighed. "If we absolutely must. Don't expect it on a regular basis though."
"Oh, no, of course not." John giggled. "Let's go home. The case is over, you need some food."
"Yes, dear," Sherlock said, getting another giggle. "What? I was trying to act like I was in a couple for you."
"Perfect. Home. Now." John took Sherlock's elbow and guided him towards the door.