Barter System 1/11
anonymous
January 11 2011, 11:38:18 UTC
(Sorry this took me so long, and I ended up going a bit off track at the end, but I hope you like it anyway, OP!)
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The first time John notices Sherlock wearing one of his tee-shirts, he’s surprised. Not that Sherlock would invade John’s privacy and take whatever he liked for his own use, of course, John’s gotten used to that, irritating though it is. No, what surprises him is that it’s John’s clothes that Sherlock has decided to help himself to. And not to perform some kind of experiment on the melting point of cotton tee-shirts worn by ex-army doctors or something, just to wear.
It’s, well, it’s kind of cute. John has to hide a wince at that thought, because that’s not really the kind of thought you should be having about your flatmate, is it, finding the fact that he’s stolen an item of your clothing and is wearing it around cute? And really, there’s a million reasons Sherlock could’ve decided to wear his shirt. For all John knows, it could be some kind of experiment. Comparing fibre textures and their affect on skin, maybe, or
( ... )
Barter System 3/11
anonymous
January 11 2011, 11:40:05 UTC
The third time, it’s another jumper. When John comes home with the shopping, Sherlock is sprawled out on the sofa. Upside down, with his feet braced against the wall, head hanging a few inches above the floor, and wearing his pyjama bottoms and John’s stripy jumper.
“How long have you been like that?” John asks, going to put the shopping away.
“Not long,” Sherlock says.
“Yeah, well, sit up, would you?” John asks. “Bad for blood circulation.”
There’s the creaking of sofa cushions as Sherlock moves, surprisingly without comment. John finishes putting things away in the kitchen, then returns to the living room. Sherlock’s on his laptop now, and John sits on the sofa next to him, switching on the TV.
“Is this going to be a thing now?” John asks, eying his jumper. “You stealing my clothes whenever you feel like?”
Sherlock looks offended. “I’m not stealing them, John. We have a barter system
( ... )
Barter System 5/11
anonymous
January 11 2011, 11:42:30 UTC
Four hours into the party, and John’s leaning against a wall with a glass of eggnog in one hand, attention split between chatting amiably with a nurse and watching Sherlock deep in conversation with two doctors. Sherlock looks - only mildly irritated, and actually slightly interested, which is a good sign
( ... )
Barter System 6/11
anonymous
January 11 2011, 11:43:26 UTC
Instead, she distracts him with swapping stories of their worst patients ever (names changed to protect the not-so-innocent, of course).
“-and then, not too long after the ‘I won’t stop going to work even with a broken arm’ incident, he calls me while I’m with another patient to demand I see him immediately, because he’s dying. He shows up with a head cold and asks my stance on mercy killings,” John says.
“Oh, God, absolutely no way,” Sarah says through her giggles. “I refuse to believe that - hang on, was this patient Sherlock?”
“Can’t tell you,” John says. “Violates doctor patient con - confidential-”
“Wait, I’ve just thought of something,” Sarah interrupts. “If he’s wearing your shirt, wouldn’t it be way too short? It doesn’t look it.”
“That one’s a bit long on me. And he’s wearing his own jacket and trousers; with those, no one’s going to notice if they can’t see his shirt sleeves under his jacket ones,” John says.
“Mmm, true,” Sarah agrees. “Thank God for expensive tailoring, just look at that arse.”
Barter System 7/11
anonymous
January 11 2011, 11:44:16 UTC
The next morning, John’s definitely hung over. Not enough that he feels sick or regrets drinking as much as he had, but enough that he doesn’t feel like doing anything besides lounging on the sofa and watching bad telly. He doesn’t even feel like getting dressed after he showers, and thinks about spending the day in just his boxers. He reconsiders when he finds Sherlock’s purple shirt still over the back of his chair. John runs his fingers over the silk, then slips it on. It won’t button properly, of course, but that doesn’t bother him
( ... )
Barter System 8/11
anonymous
January 11 2011, 11:45:10 UTC
“Consider me suitably chastised and well aware of the future consequences of my actions,” Sherlock says, sounding bored. “Now you lot can be on your way.”
Lestrade sighs. “I want the copies you’ve made of them, too.”
Sherlock’s bored expression fades, turning into something of a pout. “Fine,” he mutters, going over to the coffee table and leaning down to riffle through some of the papers on it.
“I mean it, Sherlock, you can’t-” Lestrade says, but John stops paying attention.
Sherlock’s wearing something around his neck, made obvious when he leaned over and it swung free. It’s metal, light glints off it as it hangs in the air, and, now that John’s noticed it, even when Sherlock straightens and it settles back against Sherlock’s chest.
It’s John’s dog tags.
Anger fills John, sharp and deep. He’d told Sherlock his army things were off-limits, and John hadn’t touched that bloody coat, Sherlock has no right to be wearing them. John should have known Sherlock would have no respect for the rules John’d made, even when they were for
( ... )
Barter System 9/11
anonymous
January 11 2011, 11:46:03 UTC
“You’re wearing my tags, Sherlock,” John says, like if he just keeps saying it, Sherlock will get it. Which he knows is ridiculous, but-
“You’ve said that three times. I find it unnecessary and irritating when someone repeats himself so often,” Sherlock says, eyes narrowed.
Yup. Ridiculous. “Yeah, well, I find it unnecessary and irritating when someone breaks the one rule of his own bloody idea.”
Sherlock frowns. “I haven’t done anything wrong,” he says defensively.
“My tags, Sherlock,” John says. “Yes, I know, I’m repeating myself, but as you’re refusing to get it, it seems to be my only option. I haven’t touched your damn coat, so why are you wearing my tags?”
Sherlock reaches up, closing his fingers loosely around the tags. “You said it was your uniform and camouflage that were off limits,” he says quietly.
“No, you said that. I said, ‘my army things.’ I would’ve thought a genius could figure out that dog tags are part of army things. Then again, I would’ve thought a genius would be able to discern that a box at the
( ... )
Barter System 10/11
anonymous
January 11 2011, 11:46:51 UTC
“You realize this means I get to wear your coat now, right?” John asks as he runs his fingers through Sherlock’s hair. “If you get to break the rules, I get to as well
( ... )
Barter System 11/11
anonymous
January 11 2011, 11:47:37 UTC
He collapses half on top of Sherlock when he’s done. It’s too warm, considering John’s still wearing Sherlock’s coat and Sherlock himself is over-heated underneath him, but John doesn’t care.
John strokes his hand over Sherlock’s arm, smoothing across the fabric, before he slips his fingers under the bunched up stripy jumper to rest on Sherlock’s shoulder.
“Do you know why I really said it was fine when you first wore my jumper?” John asks.
“Why?” Sherlock says.
“Because I liked you in it. You’re right, it does say we belong to each other.” John shakes his head. “Only you could make my jumpers look sexy.”
Sherlock slides his hand under his coat, fingers playing over John’s hip. “I disagree. You quite frequently make your jumpers look ‘sexy.’”
John laughs, and falls silent.
They stay like that for awhile, until Sherlock breaks the silence by asking, “Why don’t you wear your tags?”
John tenses. “I said I don’t want to talk about it, and I meant it. I especially don’t want to talk about it now
( ... )
Re: Barter System 11/11margi_lynnJanuary 12 2011, 10:58:55 UTC
I just want to cuddle up with this fic it is just that wonderful.
I love both of them so very much in this, wearing clothes that don't actually fit half the time. Something about that cues my warm fuzzies on, so kudos to you anon for striking a chord like that. :)
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The first time John notices Sherlock wearing one of his tee-shirts, he’s surprised. Not that Sherlock would invade John’s privacy and take whatever he liked for his own use, of course, John’s gotten used to that, irritating though it is. No, what surprises him is that it’s John’s clothes that Sherlock has decided to help himself to. And not to perform some kind of experiment on the melting point of cotton tee-shirts worn by ex-army doctors or something, just to wear.
It’s, well, it’s kind of cute. John has to hide a wince at that thought, because that’s not really the kind of thought you should be having about your flatmate, is it, finding the fact that he’s stolen an item of your clothing and is wearing it around cute? And really, there’s a million reasons Sherlock could’ve decided to wear his shirt. For all John knows, it could be some kind of experiment. Comparing fibre textures and their affect on skin, maybe, or ( ... )
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“How long have you been like that?” John asks, going to put the shopping away.
“Not long,” Sherlock says.
“Yeah, well, sit up, would you?” John asks. “Bad for blood circulation.”
There’s the creaking of sofa cushions as Sherlock moves, surprisingly without comment. John finishes putting things away in the kitchen, then returns to the living room. Sherlock’s on his laptop now, and John sits on the sofa next to him, switching on the TV.
“Is this going to be a thing now?” John asks, eying his jumper. “You stealing my clothes whenever you feel like?”
Sherlock looks offended. “I’m not stealing them, John. We have a barter system ( ... )
Reply
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“-and then, not too long after the ‘I won’t stop going to work even with a broken arm’ incident, he calls me while I’m with another patient to demand I see him immediately, because he’s dying. He shows up with a head cold and asks my stance on mercy killings,” John says.
“Oh, God, absolutely no way,” Sarah says through her giggles. “I refuse to believe that - hang on, was this patient Sherlock?”
“Can’t tell you,” John says. “Violates doctor patient con - confidential-”
“Wait, I’ve just thought of something,” Sarah interrupts. “If he’s wearing your shirt, wouldn’t it be way too short? It doesn’t look it.”
“That one’s a bit long on me. And he’s wearing his own jacket and trousers; with those, no one’s going to notice if they can’t see his shirt sleeves under his jacket ones,” John says.
“Mmm, true,” Sarah agrees. “Thank God for expensive tailoring, just look at that arse.”
“Oh, God, I know,” ( ... )
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Lestrade sighs. “I want the copies you’ve made of them, too.”
Sherlock’s bored expression fades, turning into something of a pout. “Fine,” he mutters, going over to the coffee table and leaning down to riffle through some of the papers on it.
“I mean it, Sherlock, you can’t-” Lestrade says, but John stops paying attention.
Sherlock’s wearing something around his neck, made obvious when he leaned over and it swung free. It’s metal, light glints off it as it hangs in the air, and, now that John’s noticed it, even when Sherlock straightens and it settles back against Sherlock’s chest.
It’s John’s dog tags.
Anger fills John, sharp and deep. He’d told Sherlock his army things were off-limits, and John hadn’t touched that bloody coat, Sherlock has no right to be wearing them. John should have known Sherlock would have no respect for the rules John’d made, even when they were for ( ... )
Reply
“You’ve said that three times. I find it unnecessary and irritating when someone repeats himself so often,” Sherlock says, eyes narrowed.
Yup. Ridiculous. “Yeah, well, I find it unnecessary and irritating when someone breaks the one rule of his own bloody idea.”
Sherlock frowns. “I haven’t done anything wrong,” he says defensively.
“My tags, Sherlock,” John says. “Yes, I know, I’m repeating myself, but as you’re refusing to get it, it seems to be my only option. I haven’t touched your damn coat, so why are you wearing my tags?”
Sherlock reaches up, closing his fingers loosely around the tags. “You said it was your uniform and camouflage that were off limits,” he says quietly.
“No, you said that. I said, ‘my army things.’ I would’ve thought a genius could figure out that dog tags are part of army things. Then again, I would’ve thought a genius would be able to discern that a box at the ( ... )
Reply
Reply
John strokes his hand over Sherlock’s arm, smoothing across the fabric, before he slips his fingers under the bunched up stripy jumper to rest on Sherlock’s shoulder.
“Do you know why I really said it was fine when you first wore my jumper?” John asks.
“Why?” Sherlock says.
“Because I liked you in it. You’re right, it does say we belong to each other.” John shakes his head. “Only you could make my jumpers look sexy.”
Sherlock slides his hand under his coat, fingers playing over John’s hip. “I disagree. You quite frequently make your jumpers look ‘sexy.’”
John laughs, and falls silent.
They stay like that for awhile, until Sherlock breaks the silence by asking, “Why don’t you wear your tags?”
John tenses. “I said I don’t want to talk about it, and I meant it. I especially don’t want to talk about it now ( ... )
Reply
Oh, this is adorable! I love the wonderful details you use. The bit with the army tags was especially sweet. Amazing job!
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Thank you so much! This was PERFECTION!
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I love both of them so very much in this, wearing clothes that don't actually fit half the time. Something about that cues my warm fuzzies on, so kudos to you anon for striking a chord like that. :)
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