Work Text:
"Alright, out now! Out! No time to lose, I need to think."
John can only sigh and shake his head as he watches the way Sherlock shoves their last client out of the door of 221B. He looks more than just a little taken aback. Clearly surprised by Sherlock’s manners. He is in his mid-thirties, tall, lean and a little… John wouldn’t call it geeky but no better word comes to mind. Shy, possibly. His sister has gone missing - or so he presumes - and Sherlock has looked bored throughout more than half of his story. John wonders why he agrees to take the case in the first place. He knows why, actually. Sherlock Holmes is, and he would childishly cover his ears and try to talk over him if John just so much as tried to tell him so, a very kind-hearted man of philanthropic nature. He just isn’t very good at expressing it at times. Just like right now.
"But you- you can find her, Mr Holmes?" The shoved-out client, Alex, tries to look over Sherlock’s shoulder a few times, his face searching John’s for reassurance, but Sherlock positions himself between them now, blocking Alex’s view."Yes, yes, of course, we’ll inform you when we’ve solved it. Good day." He tries to shut the door in front of his face, and Alex raises his voice for John to hear him, "Bye, John, was very nice to meet you," but John only sees his hand awkwardly waving over Sherlock’s head.
"Yes, yes, of course, we’ll inform you when we’ve solved it. Good day." He tries to shut the door in front of his face, and Alex raises his voice for John to hear him, "Bye, John, was very nice to meet you," but John only sees his hand awkwardly waving over Sherlock’s head.
"Bye, Alex."
The door falls shut. The silence that follows is almost shocking. For a few moments, only the quiet clattering of Sherlock’s shoes is heard in the room until he lets himself fall into his chair opposite John. "Well, that was…" John starts but doesn’t quite know how to finish. He goes for, "Wild, even for you."
"I need my mind clear, no distractions," Sherlock murmurs, head turned away from him. He looks like he's sulking. Very much so, even. Like he's sulking and at the same time trying very hard not to show it.
"So." John clears his throat after a few minutes, being cautious with him as he would when trying to gain the trust of a little puppy. He is more than used to his boyfriend’s mood swings by now, but sometimes he still struggles with getting to the bottom of why they are happening. "You… thinking about the case?"
Sherlock grimaces uncomfortably, almost as if disgusted, and clearly annoyed. His head turns slowly in John’s direction, and it seems as though he had just remembered that he is sitting here, too. And living here, for that matter. In the same flat, for quite some time, actually. Moments pass by until he has finally grasped the question, then he gives a look that displays confusion - but this is still Sherlock Holmes he is dealing with, so chances are he is feeling not as much confused as he is feeling offended.
"Of course not," he says, the word obviously hanging onto this reply like an ad banner onto a plane. "I already solved it."
John can’t help but laugh in disbelief. "Seriously?"
Offence now very visibly taken. "You don't believe me?" He lets out a groan as if in pain when John isn’t answering, then starts off to explain himself with an insult. "Really, sometimes I don’t know why some of you people were given a brain if you’re not planning on using it. Sister, John! It was obvious as soon as he started to mention his ex-girlfriend. He was convinced his sister was avoiding them every time he had her over because they don’t get along. He said those were the only other times when he didn't see much of his sister for a long time before her disappearance, completely missing the obvious here, of course. He sees less and less of his sister for the time he’s in a relationship, then after the ex dumps him it's only a matter of days that it takes for his sister to be ‘missing’? She and his ex weren’t avoiding each other because they didn’t get along. They did so because they couldn’t stand their feelings for each other with him clearly standing in their way. Now that he is not an obstacle anymore, they have started an affair, possibly even before, and she is afraid of how he will react to that, so she is hiding at his ex’s and now her girlfriend's place to flee from her responsibilities. Solved."
John needs a second. Sometimes moments like this still come as a surprise, making him feel warmer all around. "Amazing."
Sherlock only responds with a wave of his hand, as if it was nothing, but John can't help but miss the faintest blush around those high cheekbones.
"But if you solved it, why not tell him directly?" He knows Sherlock usually has his reasons, but the words are out before he can stop himself. Sherlock lets out a snort. Avoiding his gaze now again, and mumbling something incomprehensible. "Sorry, what was that?" John asks, still with a disbelieving grin on his face.
"I said I was distracted!" Sherlock snaps back loudly.
"I thought you said no distra-"
"Yes, yes, very funny. I would’ve solved it sooner, but his idiocy gave me a headache and I needed to clear the room off him." Sherlock is making this sound as though their client was a cloud of industrial smog.
John lets out another laugh which only earns him a pair of grey, narrowing eyes boring into him. "His idiocy? Really? Why was he an idiot?"
The next thing Sherlock says, once again, just sounds like the deep murmuring of a baritone, unable to be recognised as English, let alone words. Although Sherlock could be insulting him in a language of which John had never even heard before, for all he knows. "Come again?"
"For not respecting marked territory, John!" He abruptly stands up from his chair, like the restless genius with the long legs that he is, and turns his back to him to first walk up and down, then stop by the window frame.
"Territory? You're making yourself sound like a dog, Sherlock." Is he embarrassed? Then John thinks about what has just happened, trying to blink the confusion off his face before it finally clicks. "Wait a minute. Are you jealous?" Well, that is… surprising. That, as well as the possessive and excited flutter of arousal he feels at the concept of this. Sherlock is rarely ever jealous. At least not in a way John would recognise as jealousy. He knows he is a very jealous person himself. Various events in the past (hello Irene, Janine, Jim from IT) have made that more than clear to him. Additionally, during the last several months of them finally being them and together in that way and partners in every way, he has found himself getting close to completely mad on many occasions, feeling the enormous need to mark his territory, as Sherlock would apparently put it (who would have thought?), much to Sherlock’s amusement and later delight at John taking drastic measures. (Rough and hot wall sex, for the most part.)
"Sherlock? Are you?” He slowly, almost playfully, walks up behind Sherlock, letting his hands slide into the pockets of his trousers, feeling his muscular thighs trembling through the fabric.
"It's just… I couldn’t stop seeing it, John. His eyes on you. The looks he gave you, with the eyelashes and the blue eyes. How his voice softens and deepens when he talks to you, all politely as if to impress you. And then, my mind went further, imagining you two together, and- ugh, it’s terrible! How can people stand this?"
John feels his heart swell at the odd sweetness of what he has just heard, feeling flattered and suddenly oddly turned on at the same time. It’s a mixture he can learn to get used to rather quickly. "Oh, honey."
"I mean, it was always irritating. You and all your weekly girlfriends back then. But now that I can finally have this, have you, it’s so impossible to even imagine giving you away again. But I can’t stop it."
"Sherlock!" John says quickly, trying to stop him from feeling all of what John is already so familiar with, knowing the possessiveness, the guilt of objectifying, but being unable to stop himself. He wants to protect him at all costs, but what he wants more than anything right now is to kiss him. Sherlock is still a little distressed, the soft strokes of John’s fingers against his thighs through his pockets seem to have a soothing effect, supporting his body by pressing his arms against the window frame. John kisses what he can reach of him, licking a long stripe along the pale neck he has always felt an undying affection for, biting softly into the skin of his earlobe. Sherlock makes lovely noises coming from the back of his throat before he lets out a shuddering gasp.
"You will never ever have to share me with anyone. Not as long as I live. And you will never have to give me away." Whispering the words into his ear in a low voice, "This is forever, Sherlock. We’re forever."
"Oh, John.” He sounds so lost already, his arse rubbing slow circles against John’s lower stomach from behind. John’s fingers dig into the skin below sharp hipbones, still in his pockets, his breath going faster as he presses their bodies closer together. Closer still.
This probably isn't the right time to mention this, but he is already a bit drunk on arousal, so it just comes out as he kisses his neck. "So you really think Alex tried to hook up with me?"
Sherlock groans loudly, but probably not for any of the reasons John would want him to. "Really, John?"
“Sorry. I just mean… with his ex-girlfriend having just broken up with him…"
"Oh, of all people you should know best about the meaning of the term bisexual, don’t you think?"
"Yes, alright, alright." There is a moment of simply dead and awkward silence, the room temperature cooling down just for the maximum of one-half second.
"Bedroom?" John breathes into his neck.
"Yes, please."