The World of Love You Keep in Your Eyes
Title: The world of love you keep in your eyes
Rating: R (to be safe)
Pairing: John/Sherlock
Warnings: FREE OF SPOILERS FOR SEASON 2, semi-explicit smut and the same degree of violence shown in the series.
Summary: An exploration of John and Sherlock’s relationship through Sherlock’s POV.
Author’s note: The title and the quoted lyrics at the end come from the song What are you doing the rest of your life by Alan Bergman, Marilyn Bergman and Michel Legrand.
Thanks for reading and enjoy!
Thinking of you
Sherlock felt downright silly, maybe even stupid, for what he had done. It was the second time that day that John had one up on him. The first was when he pointed out where Lukis had gone just by reading the journalist’s diary and then just now at the railways…
He wanted to bang his head against something hard in an attempt to forget the things he had said to John as he had spun him around. At the back of his mind a small voice was chiding him. Really Sherlock! You should have more trust in humanity, especially in John. The fact that the small voice sounded like Mycroft made Sherlock more irritated.
But the one thing that was bugging him was what John could be thinking now. Twice in that day he had doubted John’s abilities. Granted, he always doubted other people’s abilities but John was an exception because-and Sherlock had realized this long ago-John wasn’t exactly a dodo like the others. No, he had a wide range of abilities and his learning curve was better than the others, infinitely better than Anderson’s. In fact, if Sherlock were to confess it, John and his opinions had come to matter to him.
Funny how that sounded in his head. Mycroft would have a laughing fit if he knew. And John would…
Sherlock glanced at his flat mate. They were in a taxi now and they hadn’t spoken a single word since they left the railways. If John was miffed at what Sherlock had done moments ago, he wasn’t showing it…which, honestly, worried Sherlock a little because John was never shy about his feelings, especially about his occasional irritation or frustration with Sherlock.
For some reason, Sherlock had the urge to bring it up but he wondered…What would he say? And was he prepared for what John might say?
Sherlock frowned. He’d never worried about other people’s opinions before. Why should he start now? What set John apart from the mundane? The question of what John thought of him was supplanted by the question of why Sherlock was even thinking of John. The only thing that distracted him from answering that question was the fact that the case at hand was beginning to make more sense and he began to saw more interconnections. But even then, the questions nagged him from the farthest recesses of his mind.
***
There was a strange silence, one that Sherlock wasn’t accustomed to, after he had said those words. And the look on John’s face… Sherlock suddenly felt a little discomfited with the look John was leveling at him.
But what he had said had been true! He was no hero and John should understand that.
He wasn’t doing this out of a sense of social responsibility. Sherlock wasn’t deceived into that notion. He was honest enough with himself to know that he was doing all this for the intellectual and mental challenge. Nothing, not even drugs could trump that. And if he saved people, that was all well and good but it was baggage he didn’t need.
After a full hour of silence, the urge to explain himself got the better of Sherlock.
“John, I should explain that I think better when-”
“It’s all right, Sherlock.” John said from the doorway. “I understand.”
“You do?” Sherlock said before he could stop himself.
John nodded. “You do the thinking. I’ll do the caring.”
The silence after John left weighed heavily on Sherlock, so much so he began to furiously text Lestrade about the case.
***
The moment he shot the bomb, he felt John’s weight against him, pushing him into the pool. As the explosion ripped through the area, the two of them were sinking to the bottom of the pool. In that moment, something flashed in Sherlock’s mind.
He didn’t know why he thought about it then or why he was thinking about it at all. It surprised him but pleasantly so. He had long ago resigned to the fact that he was married to his work and would never think such things, things he had always thought frivolous. But here he was, entertaining a thought that was so alien to his nature.
Oh, the thought of what might happen if John knew…
Maybe it was the way that John, with only a glance and quick nod, had understood Sherlock’s plan. Maybe it was the occasionally irritating but always amusing times when people mistook them for a couple. The first day they spent together, Mrs. Hudson and Angelo had chided them about being one. And, John later told him, Mycroft had mentioned something about receiving a happy announcement from them.
Maybe it was the way that John was now holding him close, cradling his head so that it didn’t knock against the pool floor. Or it was the way he suddenly felt so comforted by the close contact. Maybe it was all the things John had done before like getting the groceries and making sure that he didn’t drop dead from lack of sleep or food. Or maybe it was the way John always smiled and giggled when Sherlock cracked a rather difficult puzzle. The last one was certainly a childish thought but it warmed Sherlock that there was actually a person other than mummy and Mycroft who recognized and praised his genius and it warmed him thoroughly.
Perhaps it was the sum of all the things that had happened to them since they first met.
Sherlock didn’t know why in this life and death situation he could only think of one thing.
I could come to love this man…
Next: Trusting You
Rating: R (to be safe)
Pairing: John/Sherlock
Warnings: FREE OF SPOILERS FOR SEASON 2, semi-explicit smut and the same degree of violence shown in the series.
Summary: An exploration of John and Sherlock’s relationship through Sherlock’s POV.
Author’s note: The title and the quoted lyrics at the end come from the song What are you doing the rest of your life by Alan Bergman, Marilyn Bergman and Michel Legrand.
Thanks for reading and enjoy!
Thinking of you
Sherlock felt downright silly, maybe even stupid, for what he had done. It was the second time that day that John had one up on him. The first was when he pointed out where Lukis had gone just by reading the journalist’s diary and then just now at the railways…
He wanted to bang his head against something hard in an attempt to forget the things he had said to John as he had spun him around. At the back of his mind a small voice was chiding him. Really Sherlock! You should have more trust in humanity, especially in John. The fact that the small voice sounded like Mycroft made Sherlock more irritated.
But the one thing that was bugging him was what John could be thinking now. Twice in that day he had doubted John’s abilities. Granted, he always doubted other people’s abilities but John was an exception because-and Sherlock had realized this long ago-John wasn’t exactly a dodo like the others. No, he had a wide range of abilities and his learning curve was better than the others, infinitely better than Anderson’s. In fact, if Sherlock were to confess it, John and his opinions had come to matter to him.
Funny how that sounded in his head. Mycroft would have a laughing fit if he knew. And John would…
Sherlock glanced at his flat mate. They were in a taxi now and they hadn’t spoken a single word since they left the railways. If John was miffed at what Sherlock had done moments ago, he wasn’t showing it…which, honestly, worried Sherlock a little because John was never shy about his feelings, especially about his occasional irritation or frustration with Sherlock.
For some reason, Sherlock had the urge to bring it up but he wondered…What would he say? And was he prepared for what John might say?
Sherlock frowned. He’d never worried about other people’s opinions before. Why should he start now? What set John apart from the mundane? The question of what John thought of him was supplanted by the question of why Sherlock was even thinking of John. The only thing that distracted him from answering that question was the fact that the case at hand was beginning to make more sense and he began to saw more interconnections. But even then, the questions nagged him from the farthest recesses of his mind.
***
There was a strange silence, one that Sherlock wasn’t accustomed to, after he had said those words. And the look on John’s face… Sherlock suddenly felt a little discomfited with the look John was leveling at him.
But what he had said had been true! He was no hero and John should understand that.
He wasn’t doing this out of a sense of social responsibility. Sherlock wasn’t deceived into that notion. He was honest enough with himself to know that he was doing all this for the intellectual and mental challenge. Nothing, not even drugs could trump that. And if he saved people, that was all well and good but it was baggage he didn’t need.
After a full hour of silence, the urge to explain himself got the better of Sherlock.
“John, I should explain that I think better when-”
“It’s all right, Sherlock.” John said from the doorway. “I understand.”
“You do?” Sherlock said before he could stop himself.
John nodded. “You do the thinking. I’ll do the caring.”
The silence after John left weighed heavily on Sherlock, so much so he began to furiously text Lestrade about the case.
***
The moment he shot the bomb, he felt John’s weight against him, pushing him into the pool. As the explosion ripped through the area, the two of them were sinking to the bottom of the pool. In that moment, something flashed in Sherlock’s mind.
He didn’t know why he thought about it then or why he was thinking about it at all. It surprised him but pleasantly so. He had long ago resigned to the fact that he was married to his work and would never think such things, things he had always thought frivolous. But here he was, entertaining a thought that was so alien to his nature.
Oh, the thought of what might happen if John knew…
Maybe it was the way that John, with only a glance and quick nod, had understood Sherlock’s plan. Maybe it was the occasionally irritating but always amusing times when people mistook them for a couple. The first day they spent together, Mrs. Hudson and Angelo had chided them about being one. And, John later told him, Mycroft had mentioned something about receiving a happy announcement from them.
Maybe it was the way that John was now holding him close, cradling his head so that it didn’t knock against the pool floor. Or it was the way he suddenly felt so comforted by the close contact. Maybe it was all the things John had done before like getting the groceries and making sure that he didn’t drop dead from lack of sleep or food. Or maybe it was the way John always smiled and giggled when Sherlock cracked a rather difficult puzzle. The last one was certainly a childish thought but it warmed Sherlock that there was actually a person other than mummy and Mycroft who recognized and praised his genius and it warmed him thoroughly.
Perhaps it was the sum of all the things that had happened to them since they first met.
Sherlock didn’t know why in this life and death situation he could only think of one thing.
I could come to love this man…
Next: Trusting You