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John Watson leaned heavily against the cane in his right hand and winced as the dull ache of arthritis reminded him of its presence. It was a cold and windy day in January and the open air of the train platform was doing a number on his joints. As if hoping for a distraction, he pulled his mobile from his coat pocket with his left hand and checked the lock screen. No new messages.
That would figure… He didn’t know why he had expected his sister to reply - Harry was probably smashed out of her head in a drunken stupor somewhere for all he knew - but, he had at least hoped that maybe she would understand his distress and offer to help him until he could get back on his feet. He’d returned to London just after being invalided back home from Afghanistan and had stayed as long as he possibly could have on an army pension. Unfortunately, the landlord of the little block of flats he’d holed up in had grown rather impatient with his constant excuses for the rent being late and had decided that John’s time in London was drawing to a close. Without anywhere else to turn, he’d taken the last of his earnings and purchased a ticket to Manchester where his sister now lived. After a number of unanswered phone calls, John had sent a simple text explaining his situation and had informed Harry that he had finally reached the end of his rope and had no other option but to visit her for a while; at least, until he could come up with a better living situation for himself.
Letting out a huff of frustration, he resigned himself to the disappointment, slid his mobile back into his pocket, and whispered a silent prayer for some small miracle to restore his hope for a decent future. He glanced around at the growing crowd of passengers milling about on the platform and couldn’t help but notice the way they all seemed to avoid him. Couples and families seemed to be branching off and giving him quite a wide berth. He had had this happen to him many times before; putting up with the sidelong glances of pity at the sight of a washed up ex-soldier with nothing left to contribute to society. As a man of action, it was the worst possible fate John could have ever imagined.
The urge to slip out of sight began weighing heavily on the soldier’s shoulders, but, just as he turned to leave, something happened that John swore he would never forget for the rest of his days. A tall man in a billowing black coat was striding purposefully down the platform; his pale blue eyes darting here, there, and everywhere before finally settling on John, himself. The soldier swallowed hard as a surge of adrenaline pumped through his veins and he couldn’t help but glance back over his shoulder to be certain that it was him that the man was staring at. With no one else paying the stranger any mind, John turned his attention back to the mystery man. By now, the man was only about three and a half meters away from him and his eyes blazed with a look of heavy intent.
The soldier shifted his weight to heave the regulation army rucksack up higher on his injured shoulder and instinctually found himself backing away from the stranger approaching him. Something in the back of his mind was shouting at him to retreat altogether, but his curiosity had already been hooked. The contrast of the man’s dark curly hair against his pale, chiseled features sent a shiver down John’s spine as the stranger drew closer to him.
In a sweep of black wool, the mysterious man fell against him in a grand spectacle of an embrace, causing John to stumble backward, sending his cane clattering to the pavement. The soldier let out a yelp of surprise as his back hit the brick barrier behind him; the collective gasp from the crowd around them almost completely drowned out by the sudden over-dramatic wailing of the man who had inadvertently plastered himself to John’s front.
“Oh, darling! There you are, thank goodness! I was so worried about you! When I awoke this morning and you were gone, I was so afraid something had happened to you!” the stranger exclaimed, ducking his head in order to bury his face in John’s greying blond hair.
Gripped by confusion, the soldier’s thoughts were a blur as he struggled to piece the situation together. “I-I… I’m sorry, but I think -“
“Shhh….” the stranger hissed; the sound barely audible in John’s ear as he briefly dropped the ‘concerned partner’ charade. “If you are even half the man that I have deduced you to be, you will listen very carefully and follow my lead,”.
John squeezed his eyes shut and tried to process what was happening as the man wailed again - causing quite the scene on the platform - and pulled back to kiss his cheeks, repetitively. “I know, you’re worried, but we will get through this!” the stranger soothed between kisses. “I know that things have been rough between us since your injuries, but I can’t imagine my life without you! Oh, darling, don’t go! Please, don’t leave!”
The man was still pressing sloppy, ridiculous kisses all over John’s face as he tried to open his eyes; the silliness of the act seemingly reaching peak performance level. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted two not-so-nice-looking men standing toward the opposite end of the platform wearing matching black clothes and snarls of irritation at the scene unfolding before them. John allowed his hair to be caressed and sniffed all over as the stranger held him in a tight embrace; all the while trying to keep one eye on the two presumed henchman he’d spotted. One raised a fancy looking mobile phone to his ear and growled out a response as he turned to walk away. His companion eyed John and his mystery man for a moment longer before following.
As a sudden realization struck him, John raised his arms around the stranger’s back and found himself stroking him gently through the thick fabric of the undoubtedly expensive coat. If he had to guess, he would have said that those guys had been after this mystery man for some reason or another. The man didn’t look like a criminal, but John wasn’t quite sure he was being fair in his assessment of what a criminal actually looked like.
“There, there, love; it’s alright,” he found himself saying, turning his face in toward the stranger’s as he drew out the act. “Don’t worry, you’re right. You’re right, we will figure things out,”. He kept his voice soft and kind, hoping he was being convincing enough to fool the other passengers on the platform. He could feel the shock and curiosity still clinging to the air around them as the crowd looked on expectantly.
The stranger then pulled back at an alarming rate as his large hands came up to cup John’s stubbled face. “You mean it? Oh, my darling, yes!” the man’s voice boomed as he surged forward and captured John’s lips in his own and oh my, now that was quite nice, actually. The stranger’s lips slid against John’s in a sensual kiss as if it was something they had done many times before. He relished the soft, fullness of the other man’s lips against his and a small moan escaped between them as the stranger teased John's lips open with the tip of his tongue. And dear God above, if that wasn’t perfect….
John parted his lips in a more open invitation and allowed his left hand to drift to the nape of the other man’s neck, winding an errant curl around his middle finger and tugging it gently. The low rumble that rose from the stranger’s chest shot straight to John’s groin and his lips faltered as the man’s skilled tongue licked deeper into his mouth. John broke the kiss reluctantly and pulled back just far enough to take in the incredible madman before him; his own panting breaths coming out in shuddering huffs as their eyes met. The stranger’s eyes were bright with a hunger that had not been visible before and John could only guess that it was genuine.
The man shifted his gaze after a moment and glanced around the platform, seeming relieved to find that the other waiting passengers were no longer staring at them in shock. As he let out a long sigh, he turned his attention back to John.
“Thank you for… your willingness to participate in my little charade. I’ve been on this case for a couple of days now, and I am afraid I might have slightly underestimated the ability of the two morons that had been tailing me. I sort of found myself in need of a little diversion,” the man stated, a careful sort of apologetic smile playing at the corner of his perfectly bowed lips, “So, I’m grateful for your help,”.
John felt the corners of his own mouth turn up in a confused smile. “Yeah, um, no problem. I just...” he tried in response, still feeling quite bewildered. He licked his lips and continued to stare at the man in fascination when something dawned on him. “Wait, you said you were being ‘tailed’? Who exactly are you?” The question slipped from his lips with an air of adoration.
The stranger’s features split into a wide grin as he extended his hand, “Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective. And you are?” He raised a perfectly arched eyebrow in question.
“Uh, John. John Watson, professional diversion,” John replied as he took Sherlock’s hand in his; both men unable to control the bout of hysterical laughter that bubbled up between them. Their giddiness at the ridiculousness of the entire situation only seemed to spur them on until Sherlock clapped his free hand over John’s good shoulder and fixed him with a particularly keen smile.
“Seriously, though… After all you’ve done for me this evening, the least you could do now is allow me to repay you,” the taller man sighed, still eyeing John with a look that held so much more than gratitude.
The soldier swallowed and licked his lips once again - damn, that really was a terrible habit of his . “I…” he tried, but the words seemed to catch in his throat as he thought the idea over. He was supposed to be boarding the train to his sister’s; however, it wasn’t like she had ever responded to him in the first place. Making up his mind, he nodded intently, “Yeah, okay. What did you have in mind?”
Sherlock smiled that wide, mischievous grin once more and bit down on his bottom lip, “Dinner?”
“Starving,” John replied in kind, winking as the detective brushed past him, taking John’s hand in his and leaving all of the soldier’s previous insecurities on the platform along with his walking cane.