Money's Worth 2/?rosietwiggsOctober 10 2010, 22:59:10 UTC
He snorted at number #5- Sexual Orientation. “Well, as you now very well know, you lecherous bastard,” he said to Sherlock, who was trying not to snigger, “the answer to that is bisexual.”
He felt himself pale as the next question came up.
“You know. I’m not sure this was actually such a good idea,” he said, trying to minimize the screen. Sherlock caught his hand around the wrist. He was frowning.
“Why not? It can’t be more than ten, maybe twelve. That’s not a big deal.”
John could feel himself cringing. “No, twelve wouldn’t be so bad, you’re right.” But John had had a considerable amount more than twelve previous partners.
Sherlock’s eyes widened ever so slightly. “But it was more, wasn’t it?” John bit his lip.
“How many?”
John shook his head
“Fifteen?”
…
“Seventeen?”
…
Sherlock sounded dazed. “It was over twenty?”
John looked away and mumbled something incoherent.
“Twenty-seven?! For fuck’s sake! When did you have the time?!”
John frowned. Sherlock rarely swore. “Look, it’s done. It’s past. I’m a different person than I was before I went to Afghanistan, all right? It was the only way I felt I could connect to people, what with Harry being the way she was and my mum and dad being gone.”
Sherlock was looking almost- well- vulnerable, for a lack of a better word. It was a look that didn’t suit him in the least.
“Sherlock.”
The consulting detective looked up, frowning.
“You’re the only one. Do you hear me? The only one since Afghanistan. And likely to be the only one ever again.”
Sherlock furrowed his brow. “You and Sara didn’t-?”
“No.” John shrugged. “I never really felt it. Not like with you.”
Sherlock kept those piercing eyes on him a moment longer, as though trying to be sure of the truth, before he nodded, smiling slightly.
“Okay, then,” John sighed, disaster averted. He clicked the “20+” option. “Next question.”
“Do you have any tattoos?” John clicked, “One small one,” just as Sherlock said, “No.”
“What?!”
John didn’t think he’d ever seen the detective so surprised, and definitely not by him. He laughed.
“Where? Where is it?! I must see it immediately!” Sherlock started tugging on John’s jumper, pulling it up over his torso, his fingers tickling him in his search to find the tattoo.
“Sherlock,” John tried to protest, amidst giggles. “Sherlock! Stop!”
“No, John, I’m sorry, but it’s unforgivable that I missed it. I’ll have to conduct some extensive research.”
John flailed trying to stop his flat-mate but only succeeded in over-balancing his chair, sending both of them sprawling to the floor. Moments later giggles were replaced by moans, gasps, and muffled cries of pleasure. The computer lay forgotten.
He felt himself pale as the next question came up.
“You know. I’m not sure this was actually such a good idea,” he said, trying to minimize the screen. Sherlock caught his hand around the wrist. He was frowning.
“Why not? It can’t be more than ten, maybe twelve. That’s not a big deal.”
John could feel himself cringing. “No, twelve wouldn’t be so bad, you’re right.” But John had had a considerable amount more than twelve previous partners.
Sherlock’s eyes widened ever so slightly. “But it was more, wasn’t it?”
John bit his lip.
“How many?”
John shook his head
“Fifteen?”
…
“Seventeen?”
…
Sherlock sounded dazed. “It was over twenty?”
John looked away and mumbled something incoherent.
“Twenty-seven?! For fuck’s sake! When did you have the time?!”
John frowned. Sherlock rarely swore. “Look, it’s done. It’s past. I’m a different person than I was before I went to Afghanistan, all right? It was the only way I felt I could connect to people, what with Harry being the way she was and my mum and dad being gone.”
Sherlock was looking almost- well- vulnerable, for a lack of a better word. It was a look that didn’t suit him in the least.
“Sherlock.”
The consulting detective looked up, frowning.
“You’re the only one. Do you hear me? The only one since Afghanistan. And likely to be the only one ever again.”
Sherlock furrowed his brow. “You and Sara didn’t-?”
“No.” John shrugged. “I never really felt it. Not like with you.”
Sherlock kept those piercing eyes on him a moment longer, as though trying to be sure of the truth, before he nodded, smiling slightly.
“Okay, then,” John sighed, disaster averted. He clicked the “20+” option. “Next question.”
“Do you have any tattoos?” John clicked, “One small one,” just as Sherlock said, “No.”
“What?!”
John didn’t think he’d ever seen the detective so surprised, and definitely not by him. He laughed.
“Where? Where is it?! I must see it immediately!” Sherlock started tugging on John’s jumper, pulling it up over his torso, his fingers tickling him in his search to find the tattoo.
“Sherlock,” John tried to protest, amidst giggles. “Sherlock! Stop!”
“No, John, I’m sorry, but it’s unforgivable that I missed it. I’ll have to conduct some extensive research.”
John flailed trying to stop his flat-mate but only succeeded in over-balancing his chair, sending both of them sprawling to the floor. Moments later giggles were replaced by moans, gasps, and muffled cries of pleasure. The computer lay forgotten.
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