bakerstreet | The Best Friends to More Meme

The Best Friends to More Meme

the best friends to more meme

There's nothing in this world quite like a true, blue best friend that you can rely on. They've been with you through thick and thin, good and bad. You want to have fun? They're the first person you look for, because they always know how to bring the best out in you. You need a shoulder to cry on? Don't worry, they're already here. You need to bury a body? ...you should probably reconsider your priorities, but you know your best friend will be there with a shovel and a smile. You'd never ruin this friendship for ANYTHING in the world.

Something's brewing that may do just that, though. One of you has feelings, has for a long time, and that spells trouble. Unless you keep that to yourself and remain platonic, of course. Repression in this case might be a good thing.

Only it's too late. The cat's out of the bag, whether it's by confession or by accident. What to do, what to do? If feelings aren't returned, can you turn down a friend, or will you force something that isn't there just to make them happy? If feelings are returned, will you risk changing the perfect thing you have?

Comment with your character, canon, preferences, and which side you may want to play. IE, the one with feelings, etc. Also, mention if you'd like things to be more fluffy or more tragic.
Respond to others. Assumed CR and AU it up if need be.

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[I would love a Sherlock. Just sayin'. Other castmates work too, of course.]

[Sup. What do you think of taking our other thread and transitioning it into this one? Alternatively, we can just do something different over here.]

[Hey! I'm about to crash, but definitely let's move the thread over to transition into this one. If you want to continue, I will tag when I'm back. any particular setting? i'm guessing he's back, but should mary be in the picture, but them not officially wed yet - so maybe s3 episode one-ish? Whatever works for me!]

[This phone app for asking questions safely and anonymously is beyond popular right now, but Sherlock was still surprised to see 'John Watson' under the local listings. He couldn't help himself--he had to provoke John somehow. He had to feel like he's in control of the situation. (He had to have more of John's attention, which he would wither without.) To make matters worse, he had to stalk John just to see John's face when he answered the questions...

Overall, a stupid idea. Really stupid. He needs to be more careful.]

Of course you're not going anywhere. That was never a concern.

[Oh, to hell with it.]

But that doesn't mean you're here, with me.

[He doesn't know how else to describe it: they haven't been in sync.]

[John didn't know why he had initially replied to the anonymous text. He liked to think he would have figured out it was Sherlock, even if his friend hadn't shown his face.

The comment from the detective was innocent enough, but still John was surprised. He sighed, his expression softening. Deep down, he couldn't help but feel bad - guilty, even.]

Sherlock... I'm here with you right now, aren't I? [He shrugged his shoulders, trying for a weak smile.] All you have to do is stalk me and I'll be here with you again. Hell, I'm sure Mycroft has been keeping tabs on me, and could tell you where I am at any hour of the day. [The very literal Big Brother he was.]

[He doesn't understand, Sherlock thinks. Of course John doesn't understand. They've hardly been able to understand each other anytime other than solving a case. It's like they're speaking different languages now: Before, and After. Sherlock doesn't know how to become fluent in After.]

For once, John, [he says, reaching for his phone,] I beg you not to take me so literally.

[Sherlock's fingers brush against John's by accident. For some reason, that causes him to stop and stare at their hands.]

[Well, this is Sherlock they were talking about here, John's best friend. And Mary was still very much in the picture, even if their engagement had been put on hold. And his best friend has been gone for a very long time...

John instinctively opens his mouth to retort in reply to Sherlock's words.]

Then by all means, Sherlock, explain to me what you're talking about. What am I supposed to say to ...?

[He was going to say 'to make everything better,' but their fingers brushed, and his gaze follows his friend's to their hands. He looks back up at Sherlock, his brow furrowed.]

Sherlock, I... I didn't know.

Edited 2014-06-07 04:36 (UTC)

[Sherlock blinks rapidly--once, twice, three times--and then snatches his phone away from John. He checks his inbox (filled with junk), the local weather (mild temperatures tonight), the latest headlines (boring), and trending topics on Twitter (please spare him). In other words: he does anything and everything he can to keep his hands busy and his eyes away from John.]

Forget it. Forget I said anything.

[Not even Wikipedia's Article of the Day--Persoonia lanceolata, a shrub native to New South Wales--it was relevant in an old case of his--is enough of a distraction.]

I won't ask you to do the impossible for me.

[Well, this can't be common area for Sherlock. As far as John is concerned, his best friend has never been in a proper relationship with another human being, woman or man - nothing more than their friendship, anyway. The situation isn't exactly comfortable for him, either, although he can tell from Sherlock's actions that it's bothering him perhaps even more.

He blinks in surprise at Sherlock's words, stepping back just a little bit to frown up at him.]

Sherlock, what do you... what are you talking about? [He sighs, his voice quieting, but this time, he actually reaches out to touch Sherlock's hand in an attempt to push the phone away. And he doesn't move his hand right away, because perhaps touch will keep his friend focused... and he doesn't really mind it, to be perfectly honest.] Could you just put the mobile away and look at me for a moment, please?

[If Sherlock stalls for long enough, maybe Lestrade will call him with a case. Maybe there will be another bomb scare, or an unexpected prison break, or a chainsaw-wielding lunatic will run up to them. Maybe he'll stop being afraid of what John thinks of him.]

I--

[Unable to deny John's request, Sherlock looks him in the eye again.]

I missed you.

[He forges ahead, unwilling to linger on that.]

I've missed two entire years with you.

[He can't figure out if smiling is inappropriate here. Probably.]

If I could, I would spend every waking moment with you. Attempting to make up for it.

Edited (what is canon) 2014-06-07 06:10 (UTC)

[To be perfectly honest... John isn't sure what he thinks yet. He knows he missed Sherlock terribly during those two years he was away. It was as if he'd been missing his own limb, and no one could fill that great void - not even Mary, if he was being truthful. When Sherlock looks him in the eye and says that, something catches in John's throat, and he can't reply right away.

The smiling shouldn't have John smiling too, but he is, just a little bit.]

Sherlock... [He sighs, shaking his head.] You know I missed you, every bloody waking moment you were gone.

You know I forgive you, for what you put me through, right?

[Compelled by something he can't name, Sherlock leans in closer to John. This isn't the first time they've shared personal space to a point where it doesn't exist. Two years apart failed to change how comfortable he feels around John. There's no one else for him, he thinks. No one comes close.]

I know, [he says softly.] Not because I deserve to be forgiven, but because your heart is so good.

[He takes the opportunity to pick a bit of lint off of John's coat. His hand lingers again. It keeps doing that; it's annoying.]

There's one more thing I must ask forgiveness for.

[And John feels so comfortable with this closeness, that he doesn't really notice it. Well, he does, especially when Sherlock leans in to pick off that lint... and stays there a bit. It's almost as if the air about them is heightened, more intense by their nearness. He smiles a bit at Sherlock's words, glancing away briefly.]

And because I missed you. So much, Sherlock.

[But then he looked back up, leaning closer without really even noticing it, though his hands remained at his sides.]

What's that, then?

No need to repeat ourselves, John.

[Every waking moment, Sherlock thinks. He wants it so much, even though it would be impossible for John to provide it. (Also: unhealthy.) (Also: they're too co-dependent as it is.) (John John John his John)

For now, he'll just have to settle for something else. He leans in close, closer, until they're more or less breathing the same air. Their lips are nearly touching when he says,] I took the liberty of appropriating one of your jumpers. [Pause.] For an experiment, of course. Essential to my research. [Another pause. Their noses brush together, definitely affectionate.]

Forgive me?

[It's just... not something John thought possible. Back before Sherlock was dead, he'd spent all that time protesting how not gay he was. Even Mrs. Hudson still believed he was gay, much to his frustration. But there had never been another man in his life quite like Sherlock Holmes. Then again, he was fairly certain another man like Sherlock did not exist on this entire planet. He was entirely extraordinary, and the fact that he had chosen John, someone who was ordinary by comparison was, well... humbling.

Sherlock was so close then, and John knew he could have turned away if he had really wanted to. Surely his friend would have taken the hint. But John... he doesn't really want to move away, not when the familiar scent of his friend is so near, and just so real. Then he says that bit about his jumper, and John can't help but snort quietly, dryly. And then he has to go and touch their noses like that in such a bloody affectionate way. He huffs a little, already feeling his resolve lessen even more.]

Oh, to hell with it.

[And with that, he does squeeze his eyes shut and press their lips together, curiosity and the moment overcoming him.]

[The non sequitur about the jumper is intended to give John a way to stop this madness if he wants it to stop. After all, Sherlock won't claim what he's not freely given. He respects John too much to seduce him like a throwaway pawn in some investigation. Although, he thinks, feeling warm, it would be so easy to do it. He knows all of John's pressure points. Every last one. Two years away didn't change too much about them.

But he smiles a crooked smile and waits for John to reject him (most likely gently) (John wouldn't hurt him like that) (heart is so good). It's freeing, in a sense, to show John how he feels. It might be the first step to getting over himself. He's been stuck on John Watson--mired in him like a tar pit--for longer than he would like to admit. At some point it became an obsession for him; a reason to keep going, to not submit. So, really, John shouldn't reciprocate any of this. John shouldn't even think about kissing him

(John is kissing him)

like this. Like it's not a mistake. Like it's something John feels as well.]

John, [he says quietly, after the kiss, unable to determine how long it persisted. (Endorphins distorting his sense of time???) If there's more he wants to say, he forgets what it is when he kisses John once again.]

[John could've stopped it, but he didn't. Honestly, he was just a bit curious. And then Sherlock goes and gives him that crooked smile and... well, how could he resist? They were, more or less, alone, although once their lips touched, he wasn't really thinking about whether or not people might talk.

It wasn't like kissing a woman. Sherlock's lips were surprisingly soft, but firmer than a woman's lips, and there was a bit of stubble involved, even if they had both shaved. It was just a pressing of lips together at first, he didn't try to deepen it, until they finally broke away moments later.

John stares in wonder at his friend, and swallows, unsure what to say. He supposes he should feel embarrassed, but he doesn't. It's good that Sherlock kisses him again, before the moment got too awkward. John had kissed taller girls before - he had accepted his shorter height a long time ago - but it still felt strange at first, kissing someone so tall as Sherlock. But the second kiss already felt more natural, and he reached out to grasp the lapels of Sherlock's damned coat, pulling him closer.

That was when John tried to deepen the kiss. Not that he was terribly modest, but he'd had plenty of practice kissing by now.]

Edited 2014-06-13 14:15 (UTC)

[Sherlock has heard people describe kisses as feeling like fireworks. Something bright. Colorful. Exciting. Awe-inspiring, maybe. Here, though, with this kiss, shared with his best friend, Sherlock thinks it feels mostly like warm skin, a touch of nausea, and a profound urge to continue. He doesn't know if that makes him defective or just practical. He hopes it's the latter. He can't afford to keep screwing up where John is concerned.

More importantly: where should he put his hands? On John's face? His waist? His shoulders? He's overthinking everything about a simple kiss, but he really can't stop himself. (Wouldn't be Sherlock Holmes if he weren't overthinking the details.) Regardless, he likes the way John clutches at his coat to keep him as close as possible. He also likes the way John wants more from him--insists on getting more, like the commander he can be. Sherlock is all too willing to give John whatever he wants; no questions asked. He'd even give his life to John a second time, a third time, if it were required.

For the sake of practicality, Sherlock settles his wrists on John's shoulders like a familiar lover. It gives him more stability (knees feel a bit weak) (John's fault) as well as free reign to stoke the nape of John's neck. He marvels at how soft John's skin feels in this context. Information to file away for later...

What about Mary? some part of him wants to ask. He doesn't ask that. Even when they next part to breathe (but not too far away), he doesn't ask about John's lovely bride-to-be. Instead, he asks softly,]

Come home with me?

[It has all the meaning John might imagine it having.]

[When it comes to Sherlock, in the past he always seemed to get his way. It was always his way, because he was the smart one, the consulting detective, the stubborn, overgrown child. But John hadn't always gone along with it. It just had never been in the former army doctor's nature. And now, in this current situation, he was the one with more experience - flirting, kissing, embracing, this was Three Continents Watson's thing.

And when Sherlock put his hands around John's neck, he was acutely aware of how those long fingers stroked his skin. He relaxed into that touch, dipping his tongue into Sherlock's mouth, demanding entrance so he could explore even more. He wanted more, it was never enough with this man. At the moment, the thought of his very real fiance is far from his mind, even though she should be at the forefront. When Sherlock breaks away, even though they need to breathe, he still chases those lips for just a second.

But Sherlock's words reach his hazy mind... and he pauses. Opening his eyes, he looks back into those vivid, piercing eyes he knows so well, and swallows hard. It should be an easy answer - of course he can't go back home with Sherlock, to their old home. He has a new home now, with a woman he planned on marrying... but when he finally opens his mouth to speak, the words come tumbling out before he can stop them. John doesn't really want to stop them, anyway.]

Yes.

[Just the two of us against the rest of the world. Just as it should be.

Luring John away from here feels eerily reminiscent of an abduction. Sherlock takes one of John's hands in his own, tight and controlled, unwilling to let go (never going to let go again). He takes a step backward, then one more, until he's sure John will follow him. They're not too far from the flat--or the lives they once led. Returning to 221B, together, means turning back the clock in a sense.

They arrive in record time thanks to Sherlock's temerity to use rooftop shortcuts. He spends too long (exact time unknown) (still) fumbling with the keys to the front door--] Come on-- [then makes up for it once they're inside by kissing John. He has a whole list of things he wants to make up for. Hardly knows where to start.

He does know that once he gets going, it'll be impossible for him to stop.]

Do watch your step, [he murmurs in John's ear, but not to be helpful. Ascending the stairs is more treacherous when Sherlock insists on scenting John's skin. For all that is different, there's so much that hasn't changed. Underneath a layer of (unnecessary) cologne, John still smells the same.]

Edited (clarity for my weird analogy, sorry) 2014-06-20 09:33 (UTC)

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The Best Friends to More Meme

John Watson | Sherlock

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early series 3 with a nebulous explanation of the prior thread in order to give them a real setting:

it's perfect

is present tense okay?

totally!

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