Work Text:
“Owe!” John squealed, as he squatted down behind an overgrown hedge.
“Quiet, he may still be chasing us.” Sherlock said pulling his coat around himself as if it would camouflage him. Gladstone cowered, shaking in between Sherlock’s legs.
“You said it was a public footpath!” John growled. Sherlock took the map out of his pocket and looked at it.
“It is!” There was a rustling noise behind them and they froze. The noise moved away and was followed by a loud meow. Sherlock folded the map and put it back into his pocket.
“Sherlock that farmer just shot me in the ass.” John said cringing as the denim of his jeans pressed against his raw flesh.
“It was rock salt John!” Sherlock huffed.
“It still bloody hurts Sherlock!” John stared at Sherlock annoyed. “Find a road then call a taxi, I’m not bloody walking home!”
“Fine!” Sherlock took out his phone.
The taxi finally turned up two hours later. John spent the entire journey quietly moving his weight from cheek to cheek to relieve the pressure. When they did finally get back to Baker Street all John wanted to do was shower and put some iodine on his bum.
Sherlock sat in his chair Gladstone on his knee and steepled his fingers under his chin. He was sure that the path was public. He picked up John’s laptop from the floor and booted it up.
“Sherlock.” John said appearing from the bathroom with a towel loosely draped around his hips. “Could you put some iodine on my… you know”
“Come here.” Sherlock said smiling slyly. John walked over to him trying to keep the towel from brushing against his bottom. He really could do with a hug. He stopped in front of Sherlock. “Turn around and drop the towel.”
“What! Sherlock I’m not in the mood.” John said aghast.
“I need to take a photograph.” Sherlock said holding his phone out in front of him.
“Sherlock, really not in the mood.” John said stalking away.
“Gladstone towel.” Sherlock shouted. Gladstone jumped off his lap and pulled John’s towel down. Sherlock managed to snap a few photo’s before John punched him in the arm.
“Owe!” Sherlock moaned rubbing his bicep.
“I told you I’m not in the mood.” John continued to make his way to the bedroom. “You’d better come and put the iodine on.” John slammed the bedroom door. Sherlock looked down at the photo on his phone. It really did look extremely sore, he wasn’t sure he could handle causing John anymore pain.
“Mrs Hudson!!!!” Sherlock Shouted.
“Really Sherlock you’ve out done yourself this time. Mrs Hudson went all funny when she opened the bedroom door and saw me naked on the bed.” John was sitting on an inflatable rubber ring reading the paper. Sherlock sat in his chair opposite and said nothing, choosing instead to twang the strings of his violin. “Where did you get this rubber ring anyway?” John asked.
“I borrowed it from Mycroft.” Sherlock said staring at the door.
“And by borrowed I assume you mean stole?” John replied a smile playing on his lips.
“Mmmm..” Sherlock mumbled, his mind elsewhere.
“And this pig came out of nowhere and started speaking to me in Swahili, what do you think?” John folded his paper up and put it on his lap.
“I am listening John.” Sherlock said running his finger down the strings of his violin. John raised an eyebrow as Gladstone growled a warning and footsteps crept up the stairs. Sherlock seemed to show more interest and looked up as Lestrade walked into the room.
"Well?" Sherlock said looking toward Lestrade.
"Yes it is a public footpath. And yes the farmer has threatened walkers before." Lestrade took out his notebook.
"I want to press charges. He could have hurt Gladstone if John hadn't got in between us." Sherlock frowned.
"John do you want to press charges?" Lestrade asked. John nodded.
"Don't you need evidence?" John asked wriggling on his rubber ring.
"Uhm... Sherlock sent me some photographs. At first I thought he was having a high but Mycroft pointed out it was your ass. Still don't know how he knew that." Lestrade scratched his head.
"Oh god no!" John moaned his head in his hands. "I suppose those photo's are all around the Met now."
"No I wouldn't do that to you." Lestrade smiled.
There was a huge thump as Sherlock jumped up from the chair and knocked the skull of the mantle piece.
"Mycroft how the hell do you know what John's buttocks look like!!!!!????" Sherlock screamed into the phone. "Don't try and calm me down. You'd better not be at the Diogenes club when I get there because I'm going to silently throttle you!" Sherlock threw on his coat and stormed out of the door.
"Jealous much." Lestrade giggled.
"You have no idea." John replied with a smile.
