(You guys can blame Real Life, Job Stress and Turkey Day for the lateness of this chapter. I've finally learned how to use the html thing on this, so plus side?
Anyway, here's part three!)
When John gets home later, Sherlock is by the window, coaxing a tune that John has never heard before out of his violin and John stills in his movements to watch Sherlock play.
It never ceases to amaze him that someone who could turn off all attachment to everyone else and be completely uninterested in human emotion could play an instrument with such... passion as Sherlock does. Then again, he shouldn't really be surprised; he's seen bursts of Sherlock's emotions, how varied and explosive they are, and it comes at no shock that the man that has such a tight control on his life would choose to lock them away...
"Are you going to finish getting ready to retire, or are you going to just stand in the doorway all day?"
John fights down the blush he feels trying to take over his face and makes his way to the kitchen, hoping that he hadn't been caught staring for very long; it was bad enough that Sherlock had him going on these... outings with Mark, John had no idea what Sherlock would do if he found out that his guess at Angelo's was closer to the mark than John claimed.
Of course he isn't going to admit to the guy that he had met only a few hours earlier that he thought he wasn't just brilliant, but a rather brilliant looking bloke as well... especially since the thought threw John for a loop as well; he only had a few moments when he had noticed that he was checking out a bloke as well as a girl, sometimes at the same time, but he had always thought it was just because he was noticing how buff some men were. When he had met Sherlock, when he had spent time with Sherlock, he had spent more time than he was comfortable with wondering if that lean body was as athletic as it looked...
Somehow or another, he found himself living with the man and spending as much time as he possibly could away from the flat in between cases and the experiments that Sherlock needed his help with. After seeing Sherlock interact with Molly, who obviously had a crush on him, John realized that he didn't need to worry; it was plain that, unless it had to do with a case, emotions were something that Sherlock had absolutely no understanding of.
The thought made John a little sad...
So now, here he was, standing in his kitchen with the flatmate he was in, if not love, than serious lust with in the other room after just getting off a date that said flatemate was responsible for setting up in the first place, but only as a cover as he went rooting around in the man's things... John found himself wondering when that had become his life as he called out over the sounds of the violin being cleaned and put away, "Have you found anything to incriminate Mark or his boss yet? This is starting to become awkward Sherlock; I nearly ran into Molly today."
"I'm sure that she just thought that you were out with an old army buddy-"
"Not if the man has his arm around my waist and is in the midst of convincing me to snog him."
Dead silence met that statement, the kind of silence that only comes when the person you are talking to has frozen in their tracks, which-after John snuck a peek to check-Sherlock had done, the bow to his violin hanging limply from his fingers, his eyes fixed on the wallpaper in front of him.
John decided that he had hidden in the kitchen for long enough and Sherlock seemed to be distracted enough by whatever had caught his interest, possibly something on the wallpaper had given him a clue as to what kind of shirt a killer was wearing or something, so John made his way to his bedroom with only the thought of getting some respite from the insanity that was his life now.
He was halfway across the common area before Sherlock spoke up again and so focused was he on getting to his haven of quiet that the question didn't register for a second.
"Did you?"
"Hmm?" John asked absentmindedly, with a look of longing toward his room, wanting nothing more to lay down and not think for a little while, "Did I what, Sherlock?"
Re: John/OC Johnlock Part 3/?
Anyway, here's part three!)
When John gets home later, Sherlock is by the window, coaxing a tune that John has never heard before out of his violin and John stills in his movements to watch Sherlock play.
It never ceases to amaze him that someone who could turn off all attachment to everyone else and be completely uninterested in human emotion could play an instrument with such... passion as Sherlock does. Then again, he shouldn't really be surprised; he's seen bursts of Sherlock's emotions, how varied and explosive they are, and it comes at no shock that the man that has such a tight control on his life would choose to lock them away...
"Are you going to finish getting ready to retire, or are you going to just stand in the doorway all day?"
John fights down the blush he feels trying to take over his face and makes his way to the kitchen, hoping that he hadn't been caught staring for very long; it was bad enough that Sherlock had him going on these... outings with Mark, John had no idea what Sherlock would do if he found out that his guess at Angelo's was closer to the mark than John claimed.
Of course he isn't going to admit to the guy that he had met only a few hours earlier that he thought he wasn't just brilliant, but a rather brilliant looking bloke as well... especially since the thought threw John for a loop as well; he only had a few moments when he had noticed that he was checking out a bloke as well as a girl, sometimes at the same time, but he had always thought it was just because he was noticing how buff some men were. When he had met Sherlock, when he had spent time with Sherlock, he had spent more time than he was comfortable with wondering if that lean body was as athletic as it looked...
Somehow or another, he found himself living with the man and spending as much time as he possibly could away from the flat in between cases and the experiments that Sherlock needed his help with. After seeing Sherlock interact with Molly, who obviously had a crush on him, John realized that he didn't need to worry; it was plain that, unless it had to do with a case, emotions were something that Sherlock had absolutely no understanding of.
The thought made John a little sad...
So now, here he was, standing in his kitchen with the flatmate he was in, if not love, than serious lust with in the other room after just getting off a date that said flatemate was responsible for setting up in the first place, but only as a cover as he went rooting around in the man's things... John found himself wondering when that had become his life as he called out over the sounds of the violin being cleaned and put away, "Have you found anything to incriminate Mark or his boss yet? This is starting to become awkward Sherlock; I nearly ran into Molly today."
"I'm sure that she just thought that you were out with an old army buddy-"
"Not if the man has his arm around my waist and is in the midst of convincing me to snog him."
Dead silence met that statement, the kind of silence that only comes when the person you are talking to has frozen in their tracks, which-after John snuck a peek to check-Sherlock had done, the bow to his violin hanging limply from his fingers, his eyes fixed on the wallpaper in front of him.
John decided that he had hidden in the kitchen for long enough and Sherlock seemed to be distracted enough by whatever had caught his interest, possibly something on the wallpaper had given him a clue as to what kind of shirt a killer was wearing or something, so John made his way to his bedroom with only the thought of getting some respite from the insanity that was his life now.
He was halfway across the common area before Sherlock spoke up again and so focused was he on getting to his haven of quiet that the question didn't register for a second.
"Did you?"
"Hmm?" John asked absentmindedly, with a look of longing toward his room, wanting nothing more to lay down and not think for a little while, "Did I what, Sherlock?"
"Did you let him snog you?"