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“John!” Sherlock yelled, raising his voice so he knew it would carry. “John!”
“What is it?” There was a loud thud thud thud on the stairs. “You okay?”
John came running into the room; he'd been busy clearing out some of their old stuff. He huffed at the sight of Sherlock who was just relaxing back in the doctor's chair.
“You bloody idiot! I thought something had happened – was happening.”
“You always expect the worse!” He complained in response.
“You find trouble in a locked room, Sherlock, an unlocked flat isn't that much more of a leap.”
He pouted, stuck his tongue out and then folded his arm, dropping the phone as he did so but it was completely by accident.
“Hey! That's mine.”
“It was beeping. I was bored. I'm sure you can make that leap,” he said with emphasis as he made his point.
“It's a phone that's what it does. What were you shouting about anyway?” He walked over and snatched his mobile from the floor, scrolling through it. “You text Harry.”
“She text me first!” Sherlock argued.
“No, Lock, she text me, you were just nearby.”
He shrugged. “Same thing. Your phone is broken anyway.”
John sighed and wiped his hand across his eyes, he pulled the detective out of his chair, collapsed into it and pulled him back down onto his lap.
“Broken how?”
“The keyboards gone weird. Never happens with my phone.” He seemed rather proud of that fact.
“Weird?”
“Open it up and look.” He curled into the doctor and rested his head on his shoulder, letting his curls brush against his chin.
John logged himself in again, not really knowing why he bothered to have a password in the first place. He clicked on messages and brought up the keypad. Then he grinned. Sherlock had tapped on the small smiley face beside the numbers at the bottom of the screen, in a way the keyboard was weird'.
“It's not broken, Lock, they're just emojis.”
“What?” He snatched at John's phone and looked at what he had managed to open up. “They're pointless!”
“They aren't.”
“They're childish,” he countered.
“Lots of adults use them.” He took his phone back and started scrolling to one of the first few pages. “They use them because different faces can help the receiver understand the message in a way a normal text can't.”
“Boring.”
“It helps because quite often you can reply or start a message and it can cause friction with whoever you're speaking too. These lighten the mood.” As he spoke he tapped out a load of different faces and made sure his phone was on silent so the younger man wouldn't hear it and hit send.
Sherlock frowned as his pocket buzzed; it meant moving. He was comfy.
John refrained from telling him to get it because he knew for a fact Sherlock would know something was planned straight away.
“I'm sat on your lap, why are you texting me?” He asked when he finally pulled his own phone from his jacket.
“Look and find out.”
“It's just a load of black boxes.”
The doctor sighed and then rolled his eyes. “Bloody androids,” he growled before finding his sent box and showing Sherlock what he had sent.
Sherlock's face moved from a frown to a smile, “I don't really look like that.” He let his finger drop to the last image.
“You do with your hat.”
He moved his face closer to the screen. “The world really is changing, isn't it?”
“How do you mean?”
“That crap on the news you make me watch. They were saying about gay marriage and stuff. And now there's little faces, not just a man and a woman but a man and a man.”
“Not only that.” John opened the emoji keyboard again and found the image of two men and kids of different amounts.
Sherlock smiled, once again looking closer at it. His finger touched the screen by accident causing it to move. “Hold on. Is that a dog poo? With a face on it?”
The doctor burst out laughing, he laughed so hard he gave himself the hiccups, “yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Yes, it is.”
“And what is that?” He asked.
John checked what he was looking at this time. “That is a joker.”
“A joker? As in this is a joke?”
The blond was laughing again, he wrapped his arms around the detective, kissing the side of his head. “No. A joker from a pack of cards.”
“Oh, yeah. I think I might have known something about that. Years ago though.”
“You deleted it?”
“Yes. Pointless waste of space.”
Sherlock was quiet for several minutes as he continued going through all the small images. This time he was pointing at something which made the doctor smile sentimentally. It was a heart, but not just anyone, Sherlock Holmes of all people had chosen the pink one.
John tapped Sherlock's bum until he got to his feet and then stood too. He took him by the hand and led him to the bedroom.
Knowing what was coming, the detective smiled. “I'm glad you're phone's broken.”