sherlockundercover-deactivated2:
“… you take John out of the equation and Sherlock is instantly more vulnerable.” – Steven Moffat (x)
John and Sherlock, #19. If you’re still doing the drabble thing. :-)
“The paint’s supposed to go where?” John stared incredulously at Sherlock, brush in his hand.
Sherlock huffed. "It’s performance art. And there are certain parts of my anatomy I can’t reach well.”
John shook his head. He never did understand everything Sherlock asked of him, and this was no exception. Crouching a bit, tongue sticking to the corner of his mouth, he painted a rough aproximation of a tree in the middle of Sherlock’s back, then painted roots going down…
“i don’t know if I can do this,” muttered John.
“I’ll let you help me wash it off when we’re done,” said Sherlock without turning around.
“How do you know I actually painted what you wanted back here, anyway?”
“Because you did.” Sherlock stayed perfectly still.
John looked at his work, adding a few finishing strokes. Wasn’t that the sum of their friendship? Sherlock didn’t have to second guess, John simply did and that was enough for them.
#41. “You did all of this for me?” with Mycroft/Lestrade? Oooorrr… #5. “Wait a minute. Are you jealous??” with John/Sherlock? :D
How about both!
Mycroft opened the door to his home office and stopped dead in his tracks. Where normally there was his sterile desk and bookshelves, now there was a shelf full of orchids bringing color and scent to the room. On the desk was one of Mycroft’s favorite books, first edition. And open to his favorite passage he noticed as he stepped further into the room. Quietly he moved to inspect the flowers a moment before taking a seat and pulling the book to him.
There was a knock on the open door. He looked up to find Greg standing there with a bottle of their favorite wine and two glasses.
“You did all this for me?” asked Mycroft.
“Happy Birthday,” smiled Greg, coming in to steal a kiss and pour the wine.
**
John watched Sherlock lean against the bar, smiling and lightly touch the arm of the other young man. He took another swig of his beer. The other man laughed at something Sherlock said and he saw the detectives eyes light up. It was an act. He knew it was an act. But still his hand flexed by his side. The other man leaned in and whispered something in Sherlock’s ear, hand coming to rest on his thigh.
That was it. John put down his drink and walked towards the pair, case be damned. “Excuse me,” he said, tapping the other man’s shoulder. He saw Sherlock’s eyes and ignored the silent command to back off.
“Hey go away,” he said, looking down at John. “I’m busy.”
“No, you’re done.”
The man scoffed, taking in John’s size. “What are you going to do about it?”
Less then three minutes later John and Sherlock were out on their arses. At least John had the satisfaction of watching the other man hold his bloody nose and glare at them as he headed down the street.
“I almost had the information I need,” said Sherlock, turning on him. “Why would you…” He blinked and looked closer at John. "Wait a minute. Are you jealous?“
"Brilliant deduction,” growled John. He looked at him a moment, then pulled him down and into a kiss.
johnlock 11
John walked down the snowy path, hands in his pocket, scowl on his face. School wasn’t going well this term. He’d have to put more time in studying. Suddenly Sherlock stepped in front of him, smirk on his face.
“Don’t you dare throw that snowba-, goddammit!” John was cut off by the impact of cold on his cheek. “Sher…” another one hit his chest.
Growling, John bent and gathered up a handful of snow while being pelted by another one. He threw it and soon he was giggling as they went back and forth, finally pushing Sherlock down in a snowbank, grinning at him. “You bastard.”
Sherlock smiled up at him. “I’ve got hot chocolate and can help you study for that Latin test next week.
“Add in a towel and you’ve got a deal.”