Re: The Everthere Part 3/? hbomb90May 17 2011, 22:44:07 UTC
Sherlock looks down at his hands and starts fiddling with his shirt cuffs, “Yes, well I realise that in a thirty two year old man it’s hardly normal to be a virgin but I would have thought a doctor could appreciate-”
“No, no, that’s not what I meant. I’m just surprised.”
“Why? I did say this ‘wasn’t my area’.”
That doesn’t mean you don’t have a body that’s built for sex, a mouth that’s invitation to sin, limbs that someone could get tangled up in or pin down, eyes that are just dying to have their sharpness fogged with lust. John has to block that line of thought as his they drift towards how Sherlock’s spine would arch, the noises that he could potentially make with that deep baritone because that... that is just torturing himself.
“Well...yeah. Sorry, should have, um, known.” he says, intelligently.
“So?”
“So, what?”
Sherlock rolls his eyes like John is being deliberately dense.
“What do I do if he wants to have sex with me?”Sherlock asks, bluntly.
John knows that Sherlock doesn’t have the first clue about how John feels for him, but God, it feels like Sherlock is being deliberately cruel. Asking about how to have sex with another man, a better looking, probably cleverer , richer infinitely more interesting man than John, is just about the worst thing Sherlock could possibly do to him.
Sherlock doesn’t seem to notice John’s inner turmoil. In fact he’s still talking.
“Obviously I know about the kissing side of things and in theory I know about intercourse. And I realise that you don’t have experience with men to draw on but I imagine it’s not that different with women so-”
“I have experience with men.” John says, before he can stop himself. Sherlock stares at him, eyes wide.
“What?”
John sighs, “I’m bisexual, Sherlock.”
“How?”
John actually chuckles at that. “I am attracted to and have sex with both men and women.”
“No I meant how have I missed that? You haven’t dated any men since living here though. I would have noticed.”Sherlock is frowning and has his deducing face on.
“Well...no. It’s generally easier for me to pick up women and I haven’t met anyone I’ve wanted to date so...” Apparently that satisfies Sherlock’s interest in the matter.
Then Sherlock smiles, an oddly innocent, pleased expression.
“This is excellent ,John You can give me more practical advice!”
John shuts his eyes for a moment. He’s entered his own personal hell: teaching Sherlock how to make love to another man who is not, nor ever shall be, John Watson.
“John?”
John opens his eyes to see Sherlock looking at him askance.
“If the idea doesn’t appeal to you then I won’t ask you to tell me about your sex life it’s just... you are the only person I trust to help me.”Sherlock says.
John’s sense of pride and self preservation is screaming at him not to, but he knows he’s going to cave in. To be Sherlock’s only trusted friend is still something, something wonderful and important so he won’t take it for granted.
“No... it’s fine.” he sighs, slightly and hardens his heart. He puts on his trained medical professional voice.
“Alright. Make sure you use a condom.”
Sherlock scoffs, “Of course, I’m not an idiot.”
“Yes, but some people like to imply that sex without a condom is better and shows more trust of a partner. It doesn’t, its recklessness, especially the first time. You might not have had sex before but I’m sure Daniel has, so don’t let him pressure you.”
Sherlock looks wide eyed again. “Alright.”
“When going down on someone make sure you go at your own pace and communicate with your partner so it doesn’t get too much. It’s easiest if you hold the base of the penis so that you can guide and dictate the rhythm, and don’t try to deep throat the first time. Your partner would be concerned if you started choking. Likewise if you’re receiving oral sex don’t try to pressure your partner, and certainly make sure that - Sherlock are you alright?”
Sherlock looks...well shocked is probably an accurate description. He catches John’s eye, and his cheeks go a deep pink colour. He crosses his long legs and nods.
Re: The Everthere Part 4/? hbomb90May 17 2011, 22:45:24 UTC
“Sherlock? Are you sure?” he repeats, just to be safe.
Sherlock nods again.
“Yes, John it’s fine, I just didn’t expect...” Sherlock looks away clearly embarrassed. “I didn’t expect the, um, mental images.” he squirms in his seat a little and it’s suddenly obvious why he’s uncomfortable.
Oh brilliant. Sherlock is becoming aroused. Thinking about having sex with another man. Thinking about going down on bloody ‘squash three times a week and swimming every morning ‘ Daniel Vaughn.
“I can stop if you want? Or write it down so you can read it in your own time?”
Please, please let me stop, John thinks.
“No, it’s fine.”
For you, John thinks bitterly, it is fine for you. For you this is probably enjoyable.
“Look, what it boils down to is communication with your partner. If you don’t like something, tell them. I can’t really give you any sounder advice than that.” John can’t believe that his pathetic devotion to Sherlock has really come down to giving him practical sex advice to help his burgeoning relationship.
John supposes that’s what his love for Sherlock means. He will do anything, absolutely anything, to help Sherlock, to stop him from getting hurt in any way.
“I think I understand. Now about foreplay...”
“Sherlock.”John holds up a hand, “Stuff like foreplay, that’s just something you have to go with. If you aren’t enjoying something or you want to try something just tell your par- Daniel.”
“I just wanted to ask how long it’s supposed to go on for.” Sherlock sounds a bit put out for.
John looks up at the ceiling and wonders which God he offended in a past life to deserve this kind of treatment. Perhaps if he were just sexually attracted to Sherlock it’d be fine, maybe he’d even be able to get off on the idea of Sherlock with another man. But he’s in love with Sherlock, wants him in ways that have nothing to do with sex. He wants to be there when he’s ill, help him with his problems, be his companion. He wants to grow old with him. So thinking about Sherlock getting hot and bothered under someone else’s touch is like a waking nightmare.
“For however long you want it to, Sherlock.” John says.
Sherlock nods again. Before he can ask another question John is standing up and pulling on his coat.
“I’m going to go for a walk, I’ll get some milk. See you in a bit.” he calls on his way out.
Re: The Everthere Part 5/? hbomb90May 17 2011, 22:47:27 UTC
Two weeks later John returns home from an absolutely wretched shift to hear low voices murmuring in the flat .He thinks about walking straight back out again but realises he doesn’t exactly have anywhere to go.
So he trudges up the seventeen steps and enters the flat by the door that leads into the kitchen to avoid Sherlock and Daniel, who are in the living room. He has never been more grateful to see the glass partitioning door has been pulled shut.
He can still hear them though, the low buzz of a quiet, personal conversation, occasional pauses which John assumes are made for kissing. He boils the kettle for his tea, focuses on the noise of the water rather than the choked off giggle that is definitely Sherlock’s that drifts into the kitchen.
He pours his tea, grabs the sandwich that he made yesterday (he could only eat half of it, he’s lost his appetite of late)and takes it up to his room. He spends the evening reading medical journals and listening to music, not wanting to take his headphones off. He has to at one point, to go to the loo and while on the landing he overhears Daniel trying to persuade Sherlock to play the violin for him.
Sherlock protests slightly, laughingly and John bungs his headphone’s back in with almost painful force when he hears Sherlock play the opening notes to a Vivaldi concerto. G Major. John loves that one it, slightly more upbeat than Sherlock’s usual choices. He knows exactly what Daniel’s going to see while watching Sherlock playing the violin. A mildly abstracted smile on his beautiful face as familiar notes flow from beneath his skilled fingers, an occasional frown as he deals with a trickier part, the violin cradled lovingly in his palm and tucked under his chin. Sherlock gets lost in music the violin looks like part of his body, like a natural extension of that long lithe frame.
To know that Daniel is allowed to watch Sherlock playing his violin, is perfectly entitled to enjoy the curve of Sherlock’s fingers on the neck, to admire the graceful column of his neck, the unconscious movements of his body as he sways to a metronome in his own head, hurts John terribly. To know that Sherlock appreciates these looks, perhaps is slightly more sensual in his playing than he normally is, caressing the strings with his pale fingers and swaying his hips more seductively than necessary causes something sharp and bright to flare in his chest.
Not for the first time his vision goes slightly blurry so the article on the Norovirus he is forcing himself to read becomes unintelligible. He scrubs a hand furiously over his face.
This can’t go on. It just can’t.
An hour and an article on colostomy later and there is a knock on his door.
“John?” Sherlock calls.
He pulls his headphones out, scrubs his eyes again and calls back. “Come in.”
Sherlock pushes the door open and walks into John’s room, sitting down on the bed and grinning at him.
“Can I help?”John asks, almost sharply.
Sherlock doesn’t seem to notice. “No, just wanted to see if you’re alright.”
“I’m fine.” John says. He’s not. He’s been listening to his most depressing music and debating his options. Turns out he doesn’t have many.
“Daniel just left. He has a big case on.”
“Hm.”
Sherlock looks at him narrowly. “Are you sure you’re alright, John? I think you’ve lost weight. And you look very tired.”
Oh brilliant so on top of everything he’s now scrawny and peeky. Wonderful.
“I’m fine. Perhaps a bit tired, I might go to sleep.” John’s aware that his voice sounds like one of those monotone voice messages you get when you try to ring the bank.
“Oh. Alright. I just wanted to say thank you, you know for the other day.”
“No problem.”
“Haven’t had chance for a practical application yet but I’m staying at Daniel’s this weekend. You know, if a case doesn’t come up. I feel a lot more confident.”
John can feel the knife twisting, wrenching muscles and tissue.
“Right.”
Sherlock frowns. “John... you do like Daniel don’t you?”
Re: The Everthere Part 5/? hbomb90May 17 2011, 23:00:18 UTC
I am loving this!
Poor John. Usually I would be hoping for him and Sherlock to get together, but Sherlock obviously likes Daniel and you can't just stop liking somebody because you find out somebody else likes you.
I'm torn! I want John to be happy and get his man, but part of me quite likes the idea of Sherlock being all nervous about somebody else. Daniel seems very nice.
I'm looking forward to seeing where you go with this :)
Re: The Everthere Part 5/? hbomb90May 18 2011, 00:09:30 UTC
Oh, thank you, very quick response! Well... don't judge Daniel too soon. We have a fairly innocent Sherlock flattered by the first person who hasn't hid his interest in him... Essentially,though,I'm John in this story. I want to give him the happy ending I didn't get.
Re: The Everthere Part 5/? hbomb90May 18 2011, 00:39:48 UTC
Oh my god this is so good that I want it to go on forever but I also can't handle Sad!John. This is painful to read! God fix it! Fix it NOW!!!!!!! Arrrrrgh!!!! Sherlock/John FOREVER!!!!!!!!!
Whew! Anyway this is great so far. Funny and angsty.
Re: The Everthere Part 5/? hbomb90May 18 2011, 00:44:37 UTC
Noooo!! Don't fall for the pretty boy, Sherlock.
More soon, please?! (My palms are clammy, my pulse is quickened, and I'm feeling slightly nauseated. Either I'm having a heart attack, or you've got me seriously invested in this fic...)
The Everthere Part 6/? hbomb90May 18 2011, 01:51:09 UTC
No, John thinks, no I don’t. I hate him. I hate him because you look at him like a love struck teenager. I hate him because he’s perfect, I hate him because he gets to have you, all of you, be your first. I hate him because he hasn’t got an alcoholic sister and a dead alcoholic father and a periodic limp. I hate him because he’s clever and witty and can make you laugh. I hate him because he reminds me that I am just a plain, normal man with an ugly bullet wound in my shoulder who could never have you, even when he wasn’t on the scene.
“He seems great.” John lies.
“It’d be nice if you two got on. I wouldn’t want my best friend and my partner not to like each other.” Sherlock says.
John can feel the tears pricking in his eyes. Fortunately only his desk lamp is on so Sherlock won’t be able to see the extra moisture in them. But God, Daniel as Sherlock’s partner...
In his wildest fantasies, John had allowed himself to think that maybe Sherlock might consider him as something as a platonic life partner: a friend closer than any other. But surely John would be superfluous now, if Sherlock has found his true partner?
“Right.”John says.
There’s a pause, because John’s pretty sure if he opens his mouth again he’ll either start crying or beg Sherlock to consider him. Which is ridiculous, and both options are completely humiliating.
“Goodnight, then” Sherlock stands up, smiles at John, and exists the room.
John rolls over and clenches his jaw firmly. ***
The next day John walks in on Daniel and Sherlock kissing on the sofa. Fortunately he has the self preservation to look away as soon as his brain registers what he’s actually seeing. Sherlock straddling Daniel’s lap, Daniel’s hands in Sherlock’s hair, mouths fused together.
They break apart when John interrupts them and John mumbles an apology and practically sprints downstairs. Where he runs into Mrs Hudson. Who takes one look at his face and drags him into her flat.
It’s only when the door of 221a shuts that he realises he’s on the verge of tears a-bloody-gain. Before he knows it he’s sitting in one of Mrs Hudson’s overstuffed armchairs with a cup of tea, a and a plate of biscuits. Mrs Hudson’s Russian Blue cat, Flossie, jumps onto his knee. It looks like all the residents of 221a are on John Watson Rescue Duty today.
“Oh love.” Mrs Hudson says.
“I know ,I’m being pathetic.”
“No ,you aren’t. You love him.”
John bites his lip. “God, I do.” he whispers.
Mrs Hudson pats his shoulder. “It’ll get better, love.”
“No, it won’t.”
“No, it won’t. I don’t know why I said that. He just bowled you over, didn’t he? I doubt you saw it coming.”
“Yeah.”
“I could box his daft ears in.”
“It’s not his fault he doesn’t want me.”
Mrs Hudson just sniffs.
“If the kind of person he likes is Daniel then I never stood a chance. It’s...just something I have to get over.”
“Flash.” Mrs Hudson sniffs again.
“What?”
“Daniel. He’s flash. All teeth and credit cards and fancy houses. I don’t trust him.”
“He’s a nice man, Sherlock really likes him.” John’s voice sounds wrecked even to his own ears.
“Hm. Drink your tea dear, I’ll put Jeremy Kyle on.”
The Everthere Part 6b/? hbomb90May 18 2011, 01:52:00 UTC
When John (three cups of tea, but no biscuits, he couldn’t face them, later) decides to head back up the stairs to his own flat, he somehow manages to time it so that Daniel is coming down. John waits at the bottom until Daniel reaches the coat rack in front of the front door. He smiles at John.
“Afternoon ,John. Sorry about earlier, we got a bit carried away, you know how it is.” he grins affably, all schoolboyish charm.
“It’s fine.”
“Did Sherlock tell you that he took me to that poky restaurant you two like so much, Angelo’s ,the other day?”
“No.” John replies and wonders what the hell that has to do with anything.
“Oh? I just thought you might find it funny. The owner got all upset, thinking that Sherlock had broken up with you or something. I mean, can you imagine? You and Sherlock, as if that could happen, right?” For some reason, despite the lightness of Daniel’s voice John suspects that there is a serious undertone to this question, and the intensity of the other man’s stare is a little unnerving.
“As you say.”
That doesn’t seem to really satisfy Daniel’s curiosity and something in his gaze darkens. “So you’re saying that you and Sherlock have never...”
John frowns. “I think I just said that.” he says, in his quiet ‘I was in the army, I have shot many people, do not mess with me’ voice.
Daniel holds his hands up in mock surrender, the dark shadow gone, “Woah, just asking a question. I mean, you’re right of course, you’re hardly his type.”
His gaze travels up from John’s slippers, over his none designer jeans, his high street stripy jumper, past his scarred and lined face and up to his regulation, £15 haircut. There is something of a sneer on Daniel’s lips as he pulls on his Burberry coat and cashmere scarf.
“Nor he mine. I like the man but can’t stand a clothes horse.”John lies airily before he can stop himself and then pushes past up the stairs. “See you, Daniel.” he calls
“No, no, that’s not what I meant. I’m just surprised.”
“Why? I did say this ‘wasn’t my area’.”
That doesn’t mean you don’t have a body that’s built for sex, a mouth that’s invitation to sin, limbs that someone could get tangled up in or pin down, eyes that are just dying to have their sharpness fogged with lust. John has to block that line of thought as his they drift towards how Sherlock’s spine would arch, the noises that he could potentially make with that deep baritone because that... that is just torturing himself.
“Well...yeah. Sorry, should have, um, known.” he says, intelligently.
“So?”
“So, what?”
Sherlock rolls his eyes like John is being deliberately dense.
“What do I do if he wants to have sex with me?”Sherlock asks, bluntly.
John knows that Sherlock doesn’t have the first clue about how John feels for him, but God, it feels like Sherlock is being deliberately cruel. Asking about how to have sex with another man, a better looking, probably cleverer , richer infinitely more interesting man than John, is just about the worst thing Sherlock could possibly do to him.
Sherlock doesn’t seem to notice John’s inner turmoil. In fact he’s still talking.
“Obviously I know about the kissing side of things and in theory I know about intercourse. And I realise that you don’t have experience with men to draw on but I imagine it’s not that different with women so-”
“I have experience with men.” John says, before he can stop himself. Sherlock stares at him, eyes wide.
“What?”
John sighs, “I’m bisexual, Sherlock.”
“How?”
John actually chuckles at that. “I am attracted to and have sex with both men and women.”
“No I meant how have I missed that? You haven’t dated any men since living here though. I would have noticed.”Sherlock is frowning and has his deducing face on.
“Well...no. It’s generally easier for me to pick up women and I haven’t met anyone I’ve wanted to date so...” Apparently that satisfies Sherlock’s interest in the matter.
Then Sherlock smiles, an oddly innocent, pleased expression.
“This is excellent ,John You can give me more practical advice!”
John shuts his eyes for a moment. He’s entered his own personal hell: teaching Sherlock how to make love to another man who is not, nor ever shall be, John Watson.
“John?”
John opens his eyes to see Sherlock looking at him askance.
“If the idea doesn’t appeal to you then I won’t ask you to tell me about your sex life it’s just... you are the only person I trust to help me.”Sherlock says.
John’s sense of pride and self preservation is screaming at him not to, but he knows he’s going to cave in. To be Sherlock’s only trusted friend is still something, something wonderful and important so he won’t take it for granted.
“No... it’s fine.” he sighs, slightly and hardens his heart. He puts on his trained medical professional voice.
“Alright. Make sure you use a condom.”
Sherlock scoffs, “Of course, I’m not an idiot.”
“Yes, but some people like to imply that sex without a condom is better and shows more trust of a partner. It doesn’t, its recklessness, especially the first time. You might not have had sex before but I’m sure Daniel has, so don’t let him pressure you.”
Sherlock looks wide eyed again. “Alright.”
“When going down on someone make sure you go at your own pace and communicate with your partner so it doesn’t get too much. It’s easiest if you hold the base of the penis so that you can guide and dictate the rhythm, and don’t try to deep throat the first time. Your partner would be concerned if you started choking. Likewise if you’re receiving oral sex don’t try to pressure your partner, and certainly make sure that - Sherlock are you alright?”
Sherlock looks...well shocked is probably an accurate description. He catches John’s eye, and his cheeks go a deep pink colour. He crosses his long legs and nods.
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Sherlock nods again.
“Yes, John it’s fine, I just didn’t expect...” Sherlock looks away clearly embarrassed. “I didn’t expect the, um, mental images.” he squirms in his seat a little and it’s suddenly obvious why he’s uncomfortable.
Oh brilliant. Sherlock is becoming aroused. Thinking about having sex with another man. Thinking about going down on bloody ‘squash three times a week and swimming every morning ‘ Daniel Vaughn.
“I can stop if you want? Or write it down so you can read it in your own time?”
Please, please let me stop, John thinks.
“No, it’s fine.”
For you, John thinks bitterly, it is fine for you. For you this is probably enjoyable.
“Look, what it boils down to is communication with your partner. If you don’t like something, tell them. I can’t really give you any sounder advice than that.” John can’t believe that his pathetic devotion to Sherlock has really come down to giving him practical sex advice to help his burgeoning relationship.
John supposes that’s what his love for Sherlock means. He will do anything, absolutely anything, to help Sherlock, to stop him from getting hurt in any way.
“I think I understand. Now about foreplay...”
“Sherlock.”John holds up a hand, “Stuff like foreplay, that’s just something you have to go with. If you aren’t enjoying something or you want to try something just tell your par- Daniel.”
“I just wanted to ask how long it’s supposed to go on for.” Sherlock sounds a bit put out for.
John looks up at the ceiling and wonders which God he offended in a past life to deserve this kind of treatment. Perhaps if he were just sexually attracted to Sherlock it’d be fine, maybe he’d even be able to get off on the idea of Sherlock with another man. But he’s in love with Sherlock, wants him in ways that have nothing to do with sex. He wants to be there when he’s ill, help him with his problems, be his companion. He wants to grow old with him. So thinking about Sherlock getting hot and bothered under someone else’s touch is like a waking nightmare.
“For however long you want it to, Sherlock.” John says.
Sherlock nods again. Before he can ask another question John is standing up and pulling on his coat.
“I’m going to go for a walk, I’ll get some milk. See you in a bit.” he calls on his way out.
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Two weeks later John returns home from an absolutely wretched shift to hear low voices murmuring in the flat .He thinks about walking straight back out again but realises he doesn’t exactly have anywhere to go.
So he trudges up the seventeen steps and enters the flat by the door that leads into the kitchen to avoid Sherlock and Daniel, who are in the living room. He has never been more grateful to see the glass partitioning door has been pulled shut.
He can still hear them though, the low buzz of a quiet, personal conversation, occasional pauses which John assumes are made for kissing. He boils the kettle for his tea, focuses on the noise of the water rather than the choked off giggle that is definitely Sherlock’s that drifts into the kitchen.
He pours his tea, grabs the sandwich that he made yesterday (he could only eat half of it, he’s lost his appetite of late)and takes it up to his room. He spends the evening reading medical journals and listening to music, not wanting to take his headphones off. He has to at one point, to go to the loo and while on the landing he overhears Daniel trying to persuade Sherlock to play the violin for him.
Sherlock protests slightly, laughingly and John bungs his headphone’s back in with almost painful force when he hears Sherlock play the opening notes to a Vivaldi concerto. G Major. John loves that one it, slightly more upbeat than Sherlock’s usual choices. He knows exactly what Daniel’s going to see while watching Sherlock playing the violin. A mildly abstracted smile on his beautiful face as familiar notes flow from beneath his skilled fingers, an occasional frown as he deals with a trickier part, the violin cradled lovingly in his palm and tucked under his chin. Sherlock gets lost in music the violin looks like part of his body, like a natural extension of that long lithe frame.
To know that Daniel is allowed to watch Sherlock playing his violin, is perfectly entitled to enjoy the curve of Sherlock’s fingers on the neck, to admire the graceful column of his neck, the unconscious movements of his body as he sways to a metronome in his own head, hurts John terribly. To know that Sherlock appreciates these looks, perhaps is slightly more sensual in his playing than he normally is, caressing the strings with his pale fingers and swaying his hips more seductively than necessary causes something sharp and bright to flare in his chest.
Not for the first time his vision goes slightly blurry so the article on the Norovirus he is forcing himself to read becomes unintelligible. He scrubs a hand furiously over his face.
This can’t go on. It just can’t.
An hour and an article on colostomy later and there is a knock on his door.
“John?” Sherlock calls.
He pulls his headphones out, scrubs his eyes again and calls back. “Come in.”
Sherlock pushes the door open and walks into John’s room, sitting down on the bed and grinning at him.
“Can I help?”John asks, almost sharply.
Sherlock doesn’t seem to notice. “No, just wanted to see if you’re alright.”
“I’m fine.” John says. He’s not. He’s been listening to his most depressing music and debating his options. Turns out he doesn’t have many.
“Daniel just left. He has a big case on.”
“Hm.”
Sherlock looks at him narrowly. “Are you sure you’re alright, John? I think you’ve lost weight. And you look very tired.”
Oh brilliant so on top of everything he’s now scrawny and peeky. Wonderful.
“I’m fine. Perhaps a bit tired, I might go to sleep.” John’s aware that his voice sounds like one of those monotone voice messages you get when you try to ring the bank.
“Oh. Alright. I just wanted to say thank you, you know for the other day.”
“No problem.”
“Haven’t had chance for a practical application yet but I’m staying at Daniel’s this weekend. You know, if a case doesn’t come up. I feel a lot more confident.”
John can feel the knife twisting, wrenching muscles and tissue.
“Right.”
Sherlock frowns. “John... you do like Daniel don’t you?”
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Poor John. Usually I would be hoping for him and Sherlock to get together, but Sherlock obviously likes Daniel and you can't just stop liking somebody because you find out somebody else likes you.
I'm torn! I want John to be happy and get his man, but part of me quite likes the idea of Sherlock being all nervous about somebody else. Daniel seems very nice.
I'm looking forward to seeing where you go with this :)
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I'm a huge Sherlock/John shipper so of course I will love the happy ending for John. It's just a shame you didn't get the happy ending too :(
Can't wait to read more.
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That doesn’t mean you don’t have a body that’s built for sex, a mouth that’s invitation to sin...
Oh yes, poor John. I hope you eventually get your man for all your troubles. lol
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Whew! Anyway this is great so far. Funny and angsty.
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More soon, please?! (My palms are clammy, my pulse is quickened, and I'm feeling slightly nauseated. Either I'm having a heart attack, or you've got me seriously invested in this fic...)
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“He seems great.” John lies.
“It’d be nice if you two got on. I wouldn’t want my best friend and my partner not to like each other.” Sherlock says.
John can feel the tears pricking in his eyes. Fortunately only his desk lamp is on so Sherlock won’t be able to see the extra moisture in them. But God, Daniel as Sherlock’s partner...
In his wildest fantasies, John had allowed himself to think that maybe Sherlock might consider him as something as a platonic life partner: a friend closer than any other. But surely John would be superfluous now, if Sherlock has found his true partner?
“Right.”John says.
There’s a pause, because John’s pretty sure if he opens his mouth again he’ll either start crying or beg Sherlock to consider him. Which is ridiculous, and both options are completely humiliating.
“Goodnight, then” Sherlock stands up, smiles at John, and exists the room.
John rolls over and clenches his jaw firmly.
***
The next day John walks in on Daniel and Sherlock kissing on the sofa. Fortunately he has the self preservation to look away as soon as his brain registers what he’s actually seeing. Sherlock straddling Daniel’s lap, Daniel’s hands in Sherlock’s hair, mouths fused together.
They break apart when John interrupts them and John mumbles an apology and practically sprints downstairs. Where he runs into Mrs Hudson. Who takes one look at his face and drags him into her flat.
It’s only when the door of 221a shuts that he realises he’s on the verge of tears a-bloody-gain. Before he knows it he’s sitting in one of Mrs Hudson’s overstuffed armchairs with a cup of tea, a and a plate of biscuits. Mrs Hudson’s Russian Blue cat, Flossie, jumps onto his knee. It looks like all the residents of 221a are on John Watson Rescue Duty today.
“Oh love.” Mrs Hudson says.
“I know ,I’m being pathetic.”
“No ,you aren’t. You love him.”
John bites his lip. “God, I do.” he whispers.
Mrs Hudson pats his shoulder. “It’ll get better, love.”
“No, it won’t.”
“No, it won’t. I don’t know why I said that. He just bowled you over, didn’t he? I doubt you saw it coming.”
“Yeah.”
“I could box his daft ears in.”
“It’s not his fault he doesn’t want me.”
Mrs Hudson just sniffs.
“If the kind of person he likes is Daniel then I never stood a chance. It’s...just something I have to get over.”
“Flash.” Mrs Hudson sniffs again.
“What?”
“Daniel. He’s flash. All teeth and credit cards and fancy houses. I don’t trust him.”
“He’s a nice man, Sherlock really likes him.” John’s voice sounds wrecked even to his own ears.
“Hm. Drink your tea dear, I’ll put Jeremy Kyle on.”
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When John (three cups of tea, but no biscuits, he couldn’t face them, later) decides to head back up the stairs to his own flat, he somehow manages to time it so that Daniel is coming down. John waits at the bottom until Daniel reaches the coat rack in front of the front door. He smiles at John.
“Afternoon ,John. Sorry about earlier, we got a bit carried away, you know how it is.” he grins affably, all schoolboyish charm.
“It’s fine.”
“Did Sherlock tell you that he took me to that poky restaurant you two like so much, Angelo’s ,the other day?”
“No.” John replies and wonders what the hell that has to do with anything.
“Oh? I just thought you might find it funny. The owner got all upset, thinking that Sherlock had broken up with you or something. I mean, can you imagine? You and Sherlock, as if that could happen, right?”
For some reason, despite the lightness of Daniel’s voice John suspects that there is a serious undertone to this question, and the intensity of the other man’s stare is a little unnerving.
“As you say.”
That doesn’t seem to really satisfy Daniel’s curiosity and something in his gaze darkens. “So you’re saying that you and Sherlock have never...”
John frowns. “I think I just said that.” he says, in his quiet ‘I was in the army, I have shot many people, do not mess with me’ voice.
Daniel holds his hands up in mock surrender, the dark shadow gone, “Woah, just asking a question. I mean, you’re right of course, you’re hardly his type.”
His gaze travels up from John’s slippers, over his none designer jeans, his high street stripy jumper, past his scarred and lined face and up to his regulation, £15 haircut. There is something of a sneer on Daniel’s lips as he pulls on his Burberry coat and cashmere scarf.
“Nor he mine. I like the man but can’t stand a clothes horse.”John lies airily before he can stop himself and then pushes past up the stairs. “See you, Daniel.” he calls
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CARRY ON.
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