#johnlock drabbles

“Daddy, wut’s wong?”

And John can’t make himself speak. But Sherlock’s been listening this whole time, and he scoops Rosie up. He’s telling her how exciting it is that she’s going out with her class, and asking if she wants to go tell Mrs. Hudson. He whispers an abridged version of the story to Mrs. Hudson, and hands his daughter off, and then he heads back upstairs to the flat. 

He finds John in the same place. He hasn’t moved an inch. Without a word, he wraps John in his arms, pressing a kiss to his forehead. 

“It is what it is,” he whispers.

“You are ridiculously comfortable…”

John had been lying on his back in bed when he woke to a nose full of dark curls.  He debated moving, but decided against it.  He liked having an armful of detective splayed over top of him.  Sherlock turned his head and smiled up at John.  

“You do realise that this should be utterly uncomfortable, but somehow it’s not.  You are ridiculously comfortable holding me like this, our legs and arms intertwined. It makes me not want to move from this bed.”  Sherlock said his voice thick with sleep.

John ran his fingers up his back, “it is Sunday, we could have a bit of a lie in, find other ways to get comfortable.”

Sherlock smiled, “I like the way you think doctor.” Sherlock purred, leaning up to kiss John.

“Do you ever think if people heard our conversations they’d lock us up?”

They’d been sitting in companionable silence when John looked up from the paper and over to Sherlock.  “Sherlock, Do you ever think if people heard our conversations they’d lock us up?”

Sherlock rolled his eyes, “Really John, I think the answer should be clear.  Lestrade has never locked us up.”

John sighed, “Sometimes I don’t know why I bother, I mean people we don’t know.”

“Why should I care what other people think?”

“Seriously though, the other day when we were at the cafe and you were animatedly talking about our ongoing murder case, didn’t you think someone might phone you in as being crazy?’‘

“And what if they did?  When the Yarders showed up, they would just see it was us so your point is lax.”

“I guess you’re right,” John said returning to his paper.

“Of course I’m right.” Sherlock said smiling.

”They don’t like dogs. It wasn’t going to work out.”

“Sherlock, whatever made you think this was going to be a good idea without consulting me first?” John grunted as he tried to scoop the puppy out from underneath the table.

“Well what was I supposed to do?  Say no and hurt the little boy’s feelings?  He was so happy that I found the pups mum in short order that he thought proper payment would be a puppy.”

“But our lifestyle is not conducive to be able to care for a puppy.  It’s like raising a baby.  Maybe when we retire, but not now.”

“Alright, so what do you suggest we do since this obviously isn’t going to work out?” Sherlock asked, cornering the puppy and scooping him up in his arms.

The puppy barked and licked his cheek.

John scrubbed his hands over his face.  Great, Sherlock and the puppy were bonding.

“Look John, how can you not love this little face, I’m sure we could find someway to work around it, unless you don’t like dogs.”

It’s not that I don’t like dogs, it’s just a big responsibility and we’re not home enough to take care of a puppy.

Sherlock frowned, “I suppose you’re right.”  He held the puppy out in front of him and it peed down the front of his shirt.  Sherlock grimaced and John tried not to laugh.  “You’re quite right in this instance John, it’s not that we don’t like dogs.  This just isn’t going to work out.  Who do we know that can take a perfectly healthy dog?”

“Let me talk with Mike, I know he was looking to get a pet for his children, maybe we can solve each other’s problem.”

Thank you!  Glad you liked it and yes I can imagine Sherlock’s face as well.

“I’m too sober for this shit.”

John trudged up the seventeen stairs to the flat after walking home from the corner pub, the lights were on and it was eerily quiet in the flat.  John checked the front rooms and even Sherlock’s bedroom and there was no Sherlock to be found.  He looked up at the ceiling.  The only place left for Sherlock to be was John’s room unless he left the flat without turning anything off and locking up, but his Belstaff was hanging on it’s hook.

John tried to remain calm as he climbed the stairs to his room and tried to process the sight he came upon.  Sherlock tied up and then hand cuffed to John’s bed.  john rubbed his hands over his face hoping he was just seeing things, but no, there Sherlock was - feet tied and hands cuffed around the bedpost.

“Shall I even ask what you’re doing?  I knew I should’ve had a few more pints.  I’m too sober for this shit.  Sherlock, why do you insist on pulling things like this in my room?”

“It’s less likely Mrs. Hudson will hear me all the way up here and I knew sooner or later you’d find me since I’ve seem to over estimate my ability this time.  While I was cuffing my hands, I pulled a muscle in my shoulder and it’s quite painful, there’s no way I can get out of this on my own.  If you’d be so kind to help me out.”

“And what’s in it for me?” John asked.  There was no way he was letting Sherlock get out of this one so easily, but it could be worse, at least he was dressed.  He’d come home on quite a few occasions to find him trussed up naked which lead to interesting outcomes, but this was not to be one of those times.

“Well you see, there’s a slight problem, I’ve misplaced the key and my shoulder is cramping up again.  Could you just text Lestrade and ask him to pop by and borrow his key?”

“Lestrade’s working that case that you said was a 3 and that he should be able to figure it out.  Let me go see if i can find a paper clip.  Are you sure the key isn’t where we usually keep it?”

“Yes, I’m quite positive.  I checked.”

“And yet you still thought this was a good idea?”  John said motioning to Sherlock’s current condition.

“At the time yes, but when I dropped my paper clip, I changed my mind.”

“You so owe me for this,” he said as he got down on his knees and looked underneath the bed for the paperclip. “Found it!”  he said getting back up and going to work on the hand cuffs.  It took him a few tries, but he finally got it.

“Oh thank God,” Sherlock exhaled rubbing his shoulder.

“JOOOHHHNNN, can you rub my shoulder, I can’t reach where it hurts.”

“Alright you, but downstairs, I’m not having you fall asleep up here, and besides the oil is downstairs.

********

“You think I’m dumb enough to fall for that stupid move?”

John woke up to something burning in the kitchen.  He rolled out of bed and grabbed his robe, putting it on while padding out to the kitchen.  “For Christ’s sake open a window!” He shouted over the fire alarm while stumbling to the two windows to open them.  The cold air immediately blew in and started to remove some of the smell away.  Meanwhile, Sherlock had turned the fire alarm off.

John knew what was coming up next Sherlock pleading with him to clean the mess up.  He could tell by the look on Sherlock’s face.

John cut him off, “before you even ask, the answer is no. You made the mess, you clean it up.”

“But you’re much better at cleaning than I am.” Sherlock whined.

“Which is why you should learn.  Besides, I’ll make you a deal.

Sherlock raised his eyebrow, “What makes you think I’m dumb enough to fall for that?  Do you have any idea how long it will take to clean this?”

“Yes I do and the reason I think you’ll agree is because of the proposition I have for you.”

“What could you possibly do that would make me agree to clean this up?”

John moved closer, wrapping his arms around Sherlock’s waist and licking his neck, “You know that thing you’ve been dying to try in the bedroom and I keep saying no, well if you clean this up, and I mean clean it thoroughly, I’m all yours for however long it takes and I’ll even let you take notes.”

Sherlock got a big grin on his face, “Really?”

“Yes really, and I ‘ll even go and get things ready while you tidy up.  Oh just one thing, you need a shower first because you reek.”

I’m up for more again. I love to drabble. So, drop me a prompt and I’m open to do them. I’ll start like last time.

Link to my Bored? Drabbles 1

Here’s a photo, and I’ll start again with the prompt:

Saturday Mornings.

Problem: Saturdays mornings without cases are misery ever since John stopped taking the shift at Barts. [Solution: avoid John or stay in bed.]

Consequence: Flatmate pads around wearing sweats slung low and his well-worn white t-shirt that fits like a second skin. John reaches inside his sweats and scratches his arse. [Alternative Actions Taken: Lick belly and risk John’s disapproval. Remove said shirt or repeat periodic table in head. Wank in anguish.]