I Just Want To See His Face (Sherlock BBC)
Title: I Just Want To See His Face
Characters/Pairing: Sherlock&John, mentions of John/OFCs
Rating: PG13
Warnings: aromantic!asexual!Sherlock who doesn’t get fixed by John’s healing cock (which is sad). Oh, and John is straight.
Spoilers/Timeline: Happens some time after all the episodes, but manages to not dwell on them. Only spoilers for John’s date with Sarah and body parts in the fridge.
Summary: Sherlock studied relationships carefully and with far more determination than any other subject. Not because it was his favourite, but because it was the most challenging one.
Word Count: ~2.800
Beta: The most awesome scienceofdeduct who quieted the mocking voice of Sherlock laughing at my grammar in my head.
Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me. And I sort of enjoy this lack of responsibility.
A/N: I wanted to write asexual!Sherlock, because, well… I wanted to write asexual!anyone-I-actually-believe-may-be-asexual and Sherlock being an ace is quite popular view. Of course though once I started thinking about it I somehow ended up writing also aromantic!Sherlock, because my muse is a pain in the ass like that.
I did not do some enormous research for this fic, all I know about being aromantic asexual I gained from some previous browsing the asexual sites and, well, from actually being an aromantic asexual. So I hope I managed to write it somehow believably.
Also! First finished Sherlock fic! (Not the first started weirdly enough…)
i.
Sherlock thought about relationships. It’s hard not to think about something that is shoved at you from every conversation, every show on the telly, every billboard, every advertisement, every joke, every song, every crime scene even. It wasn’t common knowledge though that Sherlock studied relationships carefully and with far more determination than any other subject. Not because it was his favourite, but because it was the most challenging one. And carried the most importance.
At the age of three Sherlock ruined all his even slightly mechanical toys in an attempt to see what made them tick. Not a half year later he started on the clocks, and by the age of seven on a stolen body of the neighbour’s dead cat. He was strictly informed that he was not allowed to even think of trying that with human bodies no matter how he would come into possession of those.
Hearing this lecture he learned few very vital things, about his mother mostly. How with her whole intellect, which still astonished him sometimes, she was always the more submissive one in her marriage. Sherlock’s father was the last resort in all sorts of threats and punishments, and he never did learn about the experiments on the old, dead cat. Cheryl Holmes seemed to, at the same time, completely trust her husband to bring justice to the situation and yet worry that he may be overly harsh. This paradox was so captivating that Sherlock managed to keep the promise his mother elicited from him and held no experiments on human bodies until university. Mostly because at the age of seven, Sherlock realised no matter how many fascinating things he could find upon opening a human body, it would never fully answer what made them tick.
ii.
Criminology was fascinating, because it not only provided Sherlock with new riddles, but also because it bound together all the subjects Sherlock believed were the most important in understanding the world. Physics helped deduce possible ways of entrance or escape, or how particular acts of a criminal affected everything else, every action causing a reaction. Chemistry tied with biology and medicine told what exactly was done to the victim and with enough reason: how was it done and by what kind of weapon. Psychology and knowledge of human interactions told you why. And the answer to this question was usually the only and final proof to charge someone with committed crimes. Not to mention once you knew what was driving a criminal, it helped you predict what he would do. Well-applied psychology on occasion let you see the future.
Sherlock never much cared for finding out what the future would bring, but knowing what others would do before they did made them so much more bearable. Earlier they tended to be a messy, noisy unpleasant distraction. Now they were dull, predictable and easily drowned out.
With few brilliant exceptions among the crowd that Sherlock wanted to play with from time to time. And show them that he’s better.
iii.
Surprising people were fascinating, because they were new experiments. Usually the excitement wore out after few well-made observations in specific situations. Scotland Yard was boring; the only fascinating people there were the criminals they were chasing, and still only a very few of them. Sherlock had all the detective inspectors worked out within at best few hours after meeting them. He didn’t care for any of them, but tried to stick with Lestrade since he annoyed him the least. His team was even more predictable. Sally perhaps caused some more trouble at the beginning. She was herself confused due to a recent break up and heartache and managed to muddy the waters with mixed signs. Sherlock took pleasure in figuring out all the smallest details about her to prove his genius. She started calling him a freak; he thought he made his point.
John Watson surprised Sherlock when he offered him his phone.
(Easily trusting? Doubtful. Face and posture guarded, obvious emotionless mask. Trying to suck up to a future flat mate? Possible, but doubtful. Desperate for a place to live, but proud and honest. Always eager to help? Highly probable. Soldier AND a doctor. Hero complex?)
And it seemed to only be the beginning of one of most interesting experiments Sherlock ever initiated. The eagerness with which John followed him to the crime scene threw him off track once again.
(Psychopath? Very doubtful. Seems too moral, nice and proper. Still wanting to help in every way possible? As said, very probable, but sounding a bit too eager. …Bored? Need more data.)
Sherlock’s mind was already whirling in two different directions. One line of thoughts deeply connected with pills and serial suicides and eagerness. The other with a quiet man next to him, who only asked questions when Sherlock allowed them and then surprising him so much by his reaction to the answers he got.
(Easily impressed? Very doubtful, seems level-headed, lived through much, met lots of people. Trying to be nice? Too honest and eager. Actually being more impressed than angry about details of his private life being dragged out? Proud and proper, no need for shame. Slight embarrassment for the family's sake, but mostly fascination. Interesting.)
To top that, John wasn’t smug when he pointed out Sherlock’s mistake. He followed him dutifully and exclaimed praises at his deduction, acting as an adoring fan who sees no evil. Then he contradicted it all by not being much impressed by Mycroft, snapping at Sherlock for being stupid and calling him without good reason. And he eagerly followed on the mention of danger. Definitely bored, decided Sherlock. Definitely interesting.
All those theories were shaken when Sherlock observed the street where their suspect could show up any moment, and in the back of his mind he hid the excitement at the prospect of figuring out the surprising person of Dr John Watson. He was already planning a little experiment, hoping it would work, when John started the awkward conversation about relationships and sexuality. Sherlock froze.
(Fascinated, complimenting, impressed. Not interesting, you fool! INTERESTED!)
“John, um, I think you should know that I consider myself married to my work and while I’m flattered, I’m really not looking for anything at the moment,” he said the words quietly, pitching his voice in some tone he hoped was a somewhat careful and caring one, and not the bored and irritated one that wants to come out.
He said this too many times for his liking, and it doesn’t make it much better that perhaps this time he means it slightly more than usual. He is flattered by John’s attention. His admiration and a little bit by his offer, even if it makes John’s character so much duller than Sherlock hoped. Sometimes Sherlock thinks of relationships he could be in. If he cared for this sort of thing, if he needed it and managed to bear it… He thinks if it were all true he’d like to try with John, because he still didn’t lose the fascinating factor that most of people do after five minutes of talking with Sherlock.
“No, no, I’m not asking… No. I’m just saying: it’s all fine.”
Sherlock blinked, surprised once again. He wasn’t used to being surprised that often and his impressions and assumptions being knocked over every few minutes. He liked it.
“Good,” he said, not sure how to react, and just observed John carefully hoping for another clue that would lead him to another blind alley of reasoning. “Thank you.”
iv.
John looked at him with good humor softening his features. If Sherlock were paying more attention, he perhaps would recognise it as a thing that happens between friends. As it was, he barely noticed it as mocking; he already thought of John as a friend anyway. And not only when he tried to impress Sebastian with his improving social skills.
“You know, when two people that like each other go out and have fun?”
“That’s what I was suggesting,” replied Sherlock just to be difficult, because he knows it wasn’t. He sometimes has problems with seeing the lines between close friends going out and dates, but he knows they exist.
“No, it wasn’t,” replied John with a smile still in his voice. “At least I hope it wasn’t.”
Sherlock barely held a snort. Of course it wasn’t, and they both knew it. He suggested the circus to John in hopes he would comply, being pretty sure he will. John was still surprising Sherlock, but the detective proud himself to think he now understood the main mechanism of his flatmate’s behaviour, which is why he invited himself without telling John. He needed someone with him when he was chasing suspects, and he knew there was not enough time to fight with John over this. For a man who rarely beat Sherlock in an argument, John certainly could hold his opinion.
(Used to arguing all the time? Probable. He has a sibling. Used to holding his ground, but also able to admit mistakes. Smart and proud. Enjoys winning a fight? Only when he thinks he’s right and especially when he fights with a worthy opponent. Proud and stubborn.)
It only occurred to him later that it was very socially awkward for both Sarah and John, and probably should have been for Sherlock as well. It took him even longer to realise that he wanted to be on this date. He wanted to see this woman who John fancied, to judge their relationship, and what a threat it could be.
He tried to look at his actions from an outsider's point of view. He concluded that he did act like an obsessed man with no social skills (which was close to the truth, but still irritating) or a jealous and definitely interested in John as a romantic partner (which was confusing).
He sat on his bed, stared at the wall opposite him and thought about the whole event for hours before he came to any believable conclusions.
Jealousy indicated his romantic investment in John Watson. He was sure he was not romantically invested in anyone, and since jealousy on this level was something personally unknown to him, he could make a mistake in judging the situation. He was certain though that it had to be something else, since he didn’t want to date John Watson, and the mere thought seemed ridiculous to him.
He just didn’t want John to date anyone else either.
(Not jealous. Possessive.)
v.
John was not a genius by any standard. It took him few months to figure out what’s going on and pick up on obvious signs. By that time Sherlock somehow managed to sabotage John’s eight different dates with three different women.
(Secretly wanting to have his dates sabotaged? Doubtful. Disgustingly persistent about the matter. Stupider than assumed? Hopefully not. Still believing the best in people and not jumping to the worst conclusions at first notice? Dull. Naïve. Highly probable.)
“We need to talk.” He had his arms crossed, and tried to look as stern and coldly calm as possible while anger bubbled underneath it. “Sherlock, I’m talking to you.”
“As I assume you intended, when you mentioned our apparent need for conversation,” Sherlock replied dryly, not taking his eyes from the microscope, where he was working on the infected blood samples he managed to snatch from the morgue. Along with the microscope.
“Sherlock, I… Did you sabotage all of my dates?”
“Paranoia really doesn’t suit you, John, you should- ”
“Sherlock.” One stern word, without even raising his voice. The younger man let himself glance quickly at his companion. ‘Patience wearing thin’ seemed to be a state John passed some time ago.
“The one choking on popcorn in the cinema is all on you.”
John snorted, sounding as if he couldn’t believe he was so blind. Sherlock didn’t offer any consolation; he was also quite surprised at managing to ruin John’s love life for that long without anyone noticing.
“Dare I ask what brought it on? Sherlock?” John sighed when he didn’t get any more answer than a small shrug.
He obviously thought Sherlock was being difficult. Personally, Sherlock thought he was far from that. If he wanted to be difficult, he’d point out he can’t really be bothered with knowing whether John would dare or not, but he stopped himself. John wouldn’t appreciate comments on this anyway; he never did.
“Sherlock, do you… Do you fancy me?” Sherlock gave John a quick sharp look before busing himself with the experiment. “Well, I’m sorry, but frankly I don’t see any other reason why should you fight so hard against me dating someone I may fancy.”
“I have no romantic interest in you what so ever, John. It would simply all be much easier if everyone else shared my opinions on the subject.”
John was silent for a long thoughtful moment.
“Oh,” he finally said with an irritating tone he used when he thought he realised something particularly mysterious or surprising about Sherlock. Especially when it was one of those things that would never be surprising in anyone else. “You have no interest in me, but you hate everyone who does. Interesting.”
Sherlock glared at him.
“I don’t have, never did and never will have any romantic inclinations. Towards you or anyone else. I am not interested in relationships, family or romance. I am married to my work, for lack of better explanations you’d manage to understand. However, I found you an important part of my life and my work and I don’t see why it is so surprising that I don’t wish to have this taken away.”
The irritation and sternness melted from John’s features, his eyes full of pity. Sherlock snorted, the sound rude and breaking the moment of his vulnerability. His eyes focused on the microscope lenses once again as he muttered to his companion.
“Pity is never attractive from the receiver’s point of view, John.”
John sighed and ran his hand through his short hair like always, when he thought about some more complicated, delicate matter. It was his usual behavior that prelude any compromises he made for his flat mate. Sherlock held his breath.
“Alright, let’s get few things settled. I will not stop dating. I know it is weird to you, but I actually do enjoy and need romantic relationships in my life. Two, you must prepare yourself that at some point I hopefully will move out from here, get married and settle down with family. I refuse to take any vows of flat mates for life in sickness and in health with you, Sherlock. However,” he added strongly, no doubt noticing Sherlock’s tense frame and gritted jaw. “I will remain your friend and hopefully a companion on your investigations. I will visit you and ring you to remind you that human needs like eating or sleeping should still have a place in your life. Regularly. For God sake Sherlock, it’s not like I will abandon you completely! And I learned my lesson, I don’t date during cases! And quite frankly, when you’re bored and huffy, between jobs it’s even better that I have somewhere else to go. Is that okay? Sherlock?”
Sherlock visibly relaxed and looked at his companion calmly. He did indeed feel much better, even if there was a small spark of irritation that he needed this kind of assertion from his friend.
“Very well, I believe it should work quite well,” he smirked.
“Thank God for small favours!” John rolled his eyes, and a short silence fell between them. “You want something to eat? I’m starving. I hope we have something edible.”
John moved his way to the fridge, obviously learning by now that things in there changed too rapidly to even attempt a guess at what was inside.
“Just tea, please,” Sherlock replied smoothly. “Watch the arm.”
“What?” asked John confused, while opening the fridge and looking inside. He gasped and cursed under his breath, thinking he should be used to these sights already. “Damn you, Sherlock!”
“Well, I warned you, didn’t I?” the detective replied with a smile clear in his voice. John threw a cloth lying on the counter at his head.
Only after tossing the cloth did he wonder if there wasn’t anything toxic on it, half heartily hoping there was. He sighed when Sherlock only laughed at his attempts, and proceeded to grab the remains of last night's take out from the shelf above the cut-off arm.
~
the end.
~
Characters/Pairing: Sherlock&John, mentions of John/OFCs
Rating: PG13
Warnings: aromantic!asexual!Sherlock who doesn’t get fixed by John’s healing cock (which is sad). Oh, and John is straight.
Spoilers/Timeline: Happens some time after all the episodes, but manages to not dwell on them. Only spoilers for John’s date with Sarah and body parts in the fridge.
Summary: Sherlock studied relationships carefully and with far more determination than any other subject. Not because it was his favourite, but because it was the most challenging one.
Word Count: ~2.800
Beta: The most awesome scienceofdeduct who quieted the mocking voice of Sherlock laughing at my grammar in my head.
Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me. And I sort of enjoy this lack of responsibility.
A/N: I wanted to write asexual!Sherlock, because, well… I wanted to write asexual!anyone-I-actually-believe-may-be-asexual and Sherlock being an ace is quite popular view. Of course though once I started thinking about it I somehow ended up writing also aromantic!Sherlock, because my muse is a pain in the ass like that.
I did not do some enormous research for this fic, all I know about being aromantic asexual I gained from some previous browsing the asexual sites and, well, from actually being an aromantic asexual. So I hope I managed to write it somehow believably.
Also! First finished Sherlock fic! (Not the first started weirdly enough…)
i.
Sherlock thought about relationships. It’s hard not to think about something that is shoved at you from every conversation, every show on the telly, every billboard, every advertisement, every joke, every song, every crime scene even. It wasn’t common knowledge though that Sherlock studied relationships carefully and with far more determination than any other subject. Not because it was his favourite, but because it was the most challenging one. And carried the most importance.
At the age of three Sherlock ruined all his even slightly mechanical toys in an attempt to see what made them tick. Not a half year later he started on the clocks, and by the age of seven on a stolen body of the neighbour’s dead cat. He was strictly informed that he was not allowed to even think of trying that with human bodies no matter how he would come into possession of those.
Hearing this lecture he learned few very vital things, about his mother mostly. How with her whole intellect, which still astonished him sometimes, she was always the more submissive one in her marriage. Sherlock’s father was the last resort in all sorts of threats and punishments, and he never did learn about the experiments on the old, dead cat. Cheryl Holmes seemed to, at the same time, completely trust her husband to bring justice to the situation and yet worry that he may be overly harsh. This paradox was so captivating that Sherlock managed to keep the promise his mother elicited from him and held no experiments on human bodies until university. Mostly because at the age of seven, Sherlock realised no matter how many fascinating things he could find upon opening a human body, it would never fully answer what made them tick.
ii.
Criminology was fascinating, because it not only provided Sherlock with new riddles, but also because it bound together all the subjects Sherlock believed were the most important in understanding the world. Physics helped deduce possible ways of entrance or escape, or how particular acts of a criminal affected everything else, every action causing a reaction. Chemistry tied with biology and medicine told what exactly was done to the victim and with enough reason: how was it done and by what kind of weapon. Psychology and knowledge of human interactions told you why. And the answer to this question was usually the only and final proof to charge someone with committed crimes. Not to mention once you knew what was driving a criminal, it helped you predict what he would do. Well-applied psychology on occasion let you see the future.
Sherlock never much cared for finding out what the future would bring, but knowing what others would do before they did made them so much more bearable. Earlier they tended to be a messy, noisy unpleasant distraction. Now they were dull, predictable and easily drowned out.
With few brilliant exceptions among the crowd that Sherlock wanted to play with from time to time. And show them that he’s better.
iii.
Surprising people were fascinating, because they were new experiments. Usually the excitement wore out after few well-made observations in specific situations. Scotland Yard was boring; the only fascinating people there were the criminals they were chasing, and still only a very few of them. Sherlock had all the detective inspectors worked out within at best few hours after meeting them. He didn’t care for any of them, but tried to stick with Lestrade since he annoyed him the least. His team was even more predictable. Sally perhaps caused some more trouble at the beginning. She was herself confused due to a recent break up and heartache and managed to muddy the waters with mixed signs. Sherlock took pleasure in figuring out all the smallest details about her to prove his genius. She started calling him a freak; he thought he made his point.
John Watson surprised Sherlock when he offered him his phone.
(Easily trusting? Doubtful. Face and posture guarded, obvious emotionless mask. Trying to suck up to a future flat mate? Possible, but doubtful. Desperate for a place to live, but proud and honest. Always eager to help? Highly probable. Soldier AND a doctor. Hero complex?)
And it seemed to only be the beginning of one of most interesting experiments Sherlock ever initiated. The eagerness with which John followed him to the crime scene threw him off track once again.
(Psychopath? Very doubtful. Seems too moral, nice and proper. Still wanting to help in every way possible? As said, very probable, but sounding a bit too eager. …Bored? Need more data.)
Sherlock’s mind was already whirling in two different directions. One line of thoughts deeply connected with pills and serial suicides and eagerness. The other with a quiet man next to him, who only asked questions when Sherlock allowed them and then surprising him so much by his reaction to the answers he got.
(Easily impressed? Very doubtful, seems level-headed, lived through much, met lots of people. Trying to be nice? Too honest and eager. Actually being more impressed than angry about details of his private life being dragged out? Proud and proper, no need for shame. Slight embarrassment for the family's sake, but mostly fascination. Interesting.)
To top that, John wasn’t smug when he pointed out Sherlock’s mistake. He followed him dutifully and exclaimed praises at his deduction, acting as an adoring fan who sees no evil. Then he contradicted it all by not being much impressed by Mycroft, snapping at Sherlock for being stupid and calling him without good reason. And he eagerly followed on the mention of danger. Definitely bored, decided Sherlock. Definitely interesting.
All those theories were shaken when Sherlock observed the street where their suspect could show up any moment, and in the back of his mind he hid the excitement at the prospect of figuring out the surprising person of Dr John Watson. He was already planning a little experiment, hoping it would work, when John started the awkward conversation about relationships and sexuality. Sherlock froze.
(Fascinated, complimenting, impressed. Not interesting, you fool! INTERESTED!)
“John, um, I think you should know that I consider myself married to my work and while I’m flattered, I’m really not looking for anything at the moment,” he said the words quietly, pitching his voice in some tone he hoped was a somewhat careful and caring one, and not the bored and irritated one that wants to come out.
He said this too many times for his liking, and it doesn’t make it much better that perhaps this time he means it slightly more than usual. He is flattered by John’s attention. His admiration and a little bit by his offer, even if it makes John’s character so much duller than Sherlock hoped. Sometimes Sherlock thinks of relationships he could be in. If he cared for this sort of thing, if he needed it and managed to bear it… He thinks if it were all true he’d like to try with John, because he still didn’t lose the fascinating factor that most of people do after five minutes of talking with Sherlock.
“No, no, I’m not asking… No. I’m just saying: it’s all fine.”
Sherlock blinked, surprised once again. He wasn’t used to being surprised that often and his impressions and assumptions being knocked over every few minutes. He liked it.
“Good,” he said, not sure how to react, and just observed John carefully hoping for another clue that would lead him to another blind alley of reasoning. “Thank you.”
iv.
John looked at him with good humor softening his features. If Sherlock were paying more attention, he perhaps would recognise it as a thing that happens between friends. As it was, he barely noticed it as mocking; he already thought of John as a friend anyway. And not only when he tried to impress Sebastian with his improving social skills.
“You know, when two people that like each other go out and have fun?”
“That’s what I was suggesting,” replied Sherlock just to be difficult, because he knows it wasn’t. He sometimes has problems with seeing the lines between close friends going out and dates, but he knows they exist.
“No, it wasn’t,” replied John with a smile still in his voice. “At least I hope it wasn’t.”
Sherlock barely held a snort. Of course it wasn’t, and they both knew it. He suggested the circus to John in hopes he would comply, being pretty sure he will. John was still surprising Sherlock, but the detective proud himself to think he now understood the main mechanism of his flatmate’s behaviour, which is why he invited himself without telling John. He needed someone with him when he was chasing suspects, and he knew there was not enough time to fight with John over this. For a man who rarely beat Sherlock in an argument, John certainly could hold his opinion.
(Used to arguing all the time? Probable. He has a sibling. Used to holding his ground, but also able to admit mistakes. Smart and proud. Enjoys winning a fight? Only when he thinks he’s right and especially when he fights with a worthy opponent. Proud and stubborn.)
It only occurred to him later that it was very socially awkward for both Sarah and John, and probably should have been for Sherlock as well. It took him even longer to realise that he wanted to be on this date. He wanted to see this woman who John fancied, to judge their relationship, and what a threat it could be.
He tried to look at his actions from an outsider's point of view. He concluded that he did act like an obsessed man with no social skills (which was close to the truth, but still irritating) or a jealous and definitely interested in John as a romantic partner (which was confusing).
He sat on his bed, stared at the wall opposite him and thought about the whole event for hours before he came to any believable conclusions.
Jealousy indicated his romantic investment in John Watson. He was sure he was not romantically invested in anyone, and since jealousy on this level was something personally unknown to him, he could make a mistake in judging the situation. He was certain though that it had to be something else, since he didn’t want to date John Watson, and the mere thought seemed ridiculous to him.
He just didn’t want John to date anyone else either.
(Not jealous. Possessive.)
v.
John was not a genius by any standard. It took him few months to figure out what’s going on and pick up on obvious signs. By that time Sherlock somehow managed to sabotage John’s eight different dates with three different women.
(Secretly wanting to have his dates sabotaged? Doubtful. Disgustingly persistent about the matter. Stupider than assumed? Hopefully not. Still believing the best in people and not jumping to the worst conclusions at first notice? Dull. Naïve. Highly probable.)
“We need to talk.” He had his arms crossed, and tried to look as stern and coldly calm as possible while anger bubbled underneath it. “Sherlock, I’m talking to you.”
“As I assume you intended, when you mentioned our apparent need for conversation,” Sherlock replied dryly, not taking his eyes from the microscope, where he was working on the infected blood samples he managed to snatch from the morgue. Along with the microscope.
“Sherlock, I… Did you sabotage all of my dates?”
“Paranoia really doesn’t suit you, John, you should- ”
“Sherlock.” One stern word, without even raising his voice. The younger man let himself glance quickly at his companion. ‘Patience wearing thin’ seemed to be a state John passed some time ago.
“The one choking on popcorn in the cinema is all on you.”
John snorted, sounding as if he couldn’t believe he was so blind. Sherlock didn’t offer any consolation; he was also quite surprised at managing to ruin John’s love life for that long without anyone noticing.
“Dare I ask what brought it on? Sherlock?” John sighed when he didn’t get any more answer than a small shrug.
He obviously thought Sherlock was being difficult. Personally, Sherlock thought he was far from that. If he wanted to be difficult, he’d point out he can’t really be bothered with knowing whether John would dare or not, but he stopped himself. John wouldn’t appreciate comments on this anyway; he never did.
“Sherlock, do you… Do you fancy me?” Sherlock gave John a quick sharp look before busing himself with the experiment. “Well, I’m sorry, but frankly I don’t see any other reason why should you fight so hard against me dating someone I may fancy.”
“I have no romantic interest in you what so ever, John. It would simply all be much easier if everyone else shared my opinions on the subject.”
John was silent for a long thoughtful moment.
“Oh,” he finally said with an irritating tone he used when he thought he realised something particularly mysterious or surprising about Sherlock. Especially when it was one of those things that would never be surprising in anyone else. “You have no interest in me, but you hate everyone who does. Interesting.”
Sherlock glared at him.
“I don’t have, never did and never will have any romantic inclinations. Towards you or anyone else. I am not interested in relationships, family or romance. I am married to my work, for lack of better explanations you’d manage to understand. However, I found you an important part of my life and my work and I don’t see why it is so surprising that I don’t wish to have this taken away.”
The irritation and sternness melted from John’s features, his eyes full of pity. Sherlock snorted, the sound rude and breaking the moment of his vulnerability. His eyes focused on the microscope lenses once again as he muttered to his companion.
“Pity is never attractive from the receiver’s point of view, John.”
John sighed and ran his hand through his short hair like always, when he thought about some more complicated, delicate matter. It was his usual behavior that prelude any compromises he made for his flat mate. Sherlock held his breath.
“Alright, let’s get few things settled. I will not stop dating. I know it is weird to you, but I actually do enjoy and need romantic relationships in my life. Two, you must prepare yourself that at some point I hopefully will move out from here, get married and settle down with family. I refuse to take any vows of flat mates for life in sickness and in health with you, Sherlock. However,” he added strongly, no doubt noticing Sherlock’s tense frame and gritted jaw. “I will remain your friend and hopefully a companion on your investigations. I will visit you and ring you to remind you that human needs like eating or sleeping should still have a place in your life. Regularly. For God sake Sherlock, it’s not like I will abandon you completely! And I learned my lesson, I don’t date during cases! And quite frankly, when you’re bored and huffy, between jobs it’s even better that I have somewhere else to go. Is that okay? Sherlock?”
Sherlock visibly relaxed and looked at his companion calmly. He did indeed feel much better, even if there was a small spark of irritation that he needed this kind of assertion from his friend.
“Very well, I believe it should work quite well,” he smirked.
“Thank God for small favours!” John rolled his eyes, and a short silence fell between them. “You want something to eat? I’m starving. I hope we have something edible.”
John moved his way to the fridge, obviously learning by now that things in there changed too rapidly to even attempt a guess at what was inside.
“Just tea, please,” Sherlock replied smoothly. “Watch the arm.”
“What?” asked John confused, while opening the fridge and looking inside. He gasped and cursed under his breath, thinking he should be used to these sights already. “Damn you, Sherlock!”
“Well, I warned you, didn’t I?” the detective replied with a smile clear in his voice. John threw a cloth lying on the counter at his head.
Only after tossing the cloth did he wonder if there wasn’t anything toxic on it, half heartily hoping there was. He sighed when Sherlock only laughed at his attempts, and proceeded to grab the remains of last night's take out from the shelf above the cut-off arm.
~
the end.
~