Money's Worth 4/5rosietwiggsOctober 10 2010, 23:09:04 UTC
“Number #13. Sherlock, what would you say my conversation style is?”
Sherlock raised an eyebrow. “Honest and open, John. I would think that was obvious. It’s one of the things I admire most about you.”
John ducked his head. “I would have thought you’d say I’m an open book. You seem to read me so easily, after all.”
Sherlock shook his head. “An open book? No, John. Never. I frequently find myself at a loss when it comes to you. Everyone else is so dull it hurts to speak to them, at times.” Sherlock heaved a dramatic sigh and John snorted. “Well, it does!” Sherlock replied indignantly. “But not you.” His smile was wistful. “You speak your mind, and more often than not,” he gave a significant glance at the area where John’s tattoo was, “I am most delightfully surprised.”
John grinned. Perhaps he was being overly emotional, sappy even, but his relationship with Sherlock was still so new… Sometimes he found himself grinning like an idiot in the middle of a crime scene and then Sgt. Donovan would give him a look that said she thought he was becoming as much of a “freak” as the original, and he’d smile even wider.
“Do you suffer from any of the following?” Sherlock was reading off the screen. “Snoring, no. Halitosis, no. Hypoacitive Sexual Desire Disorder- eeugh! Thank god, no!”
“There’s nothing here about nightmares, I noticed,” John said, matter-of-factly.
Sherlock sniggered. “Yes, apparently nightmares are less common than ‘Hyperactive Sexual Desire Disorder’,” he read off the screen. “Which, allow me to say,” Sherlock’s eyes raked over John’s half-naked form, “I can’t imagine I would have minded terribly…”
“Do you mind the nightmares very much?” John asked, looking worried.
Sherlock looked thoughtful. “John, the last time you had a nightmare was three weeks ago. Since then I’ve made it an effort to shag you senseless before bed, every night I can.” John blushed. “If your brain is still functioning after that,” Sherlock leaned closer so that his breath was hot in John’s ear, “then I’ll just have to make sure to fuck you harder next time.”
John felt a shiver travel all the way from his ear down his spine to his toes. He swallowed convulsively. Sherlock pulled back, smirking.
“Right, so “nothing”, then. Next.” Sherlock, clicked to the next question.
“What would you rather do on a Friday night? Ah, here, I must admit, John, that I guessed.”
“Okay,” John said, a bit breathlessly as he was still trying to regain his full faculty of speech, “what did you guess?”
“Bowling?” Sherlock asked, uncertain. He sounded like a student guessing at a question his professor just asked him. John found it quite endearing.
“Sherlock,” he said, chuckling, “I hate bowling.”
Sherlock sighed, and it sounded like relief. “Good, I was worried I was going to have to take you, and wear those terrible shoes, as that seems to be the sort of thing couples enjoy doing together.”
John laughed again at his flat-mate’s complete lack of social understanding. “No. No bowling, and certainly no shoes, Sherlock. You don’t have to worry. Click “Dinner and a Movie”. If you want to take me out, that’s the way to go. You can even skip the movie and just make it a nice dinner. What’s next?”
Sherlock clicked to the next page. “How worldly are you?”
John was thoughtful for a moment as he looked at the options. “Does being in the army in Afghanistan count as living overseas? I was there for over a year.”
Sherlock nodded. “And I suppose the extensive travel part of the option will come later.”
“Oh?”
“Of course, John. I plan to take you everywhere when we can get around to it.”
John wondered whether Sherlock intended the double meaning in that sentence. But Sherlock’s face as he clicked, told him everything. Of course he did.
Sherlock raised an eyebrow. “Honest and open, John. I would think that was obvious. It’s one of the things I admire most about you.”
John ducked his head. “I would have thought you’d say I’m an open book. You seem to read me so easily, after all.”
Sherlock shook his head. “An open book? No, John. Never. I frequently find myself at a loss when it comes to you. Everyone else is so dull it hurts to speak to them, at times.” Sherlock heaved a dramatic sigh and John snorted. “Well, it does!” Sherlock replied indignantly. “But not you.” His smile was wistful. “You speak your mind, and more often than not,” he gave a significant glance at the area where John’s tattoo was, “I am most delightfully surprised.”
John grinned. Perhaps he was being overly emotional, sappy even, but his relationship with Sherlock was still so new… Sometimes he found himself grinning like an idiot in the middle of a crime scene and then Sgt. Donovan would give him a look that said she thought he was becoming as much of a “freak” as the original, and he’d smile even wider.
“Do you suffer from any of the following?” Sherlock was reading off the screen. “Snoring, no. Halitosis, no. Hypoacitive Sexual Desire Disorder- eeugh! Thank god, no!”
“There’s nothing here about nightmares, I noticed,” John said, matter-of-factly.
Sherlock sniggered. “Yes, apparently nightmares are less common than ‘Hyperactive Sexual Desire Disorder’,” he read off the screen. “Which, allow me to say,” Sherlock’s eyes raked over John’s half-naked form, “I can’t imagine I would have minded terribly…”
“Do you mind the nightmares very much?” John asked, looking worried.
Sherlock looked thoughtful. “John, the last time you had a nightmare was three weeks ago. Since then I’ve made it an effort to shag you senseless before bed, every night I can.” John blushed. “If your brain is still functioning after that,” Sherlock leaned closer so that his breath was hot in John’s ear, “then I’ll just have to make sure to fuck you harder next time.”
John felt a shiver travel all the way from his ear down his spine to his toes. He swallowed convulsively. Sherlock pulled back, smirking.
“Right, so “nothing”, then. Next.” Sherlock, clicked to the next question.
“What would you rather do on a Friday night? Ah, here, I must admit, John, that I guessed.”
“Okay,” John said, a bit breathlessly as he was still trying to regain his full faculty of speech, “what did you guess?”
“Bowling?” Sherlock asked, uncertain. He sounded like a student guessing at a question his professor just asked him. John found it quite endearing.
“Sherlock,” he said, chuckling, “I hate bowling.”
Sherlock sighed, and it sounded like relief. “Good, I was worried I was going to have to take you, and wear those terrible shoes, as that seems to be the sort of thing couples enjoy doing together.”
John laughed again at his flat-mate’s complete lack of social understanding. “No. No bowling, and certainly no shoes, Sherlock. You don’t have to worry. Click “Dinner and a Movie”. If you want to take me out, that’s the way to go. You can even skip the movie and just make it a nice dinner. What’s next?”
Sherlock clicked to the next page. “How worldly are you?”
John was thoughtful for a moment as he looked at the options. “Does being in the army in Afghanistan count as living overseas? I was there for over a year.”
Sherlock nodded. “And I suppose the extensive travel part of the option will come later.”
“Oh?”
“Of course, John. I plan to take you everywhere when we can get around to it.”
John wondered whether Sherlock intended the double meaning in that sentence. But Sherlock’s face as he clicked, told him everything. Of course he did.
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