AN: So, I promised her to think of something for her birthday & this is what I came up with.
Emily, I hope you had a wonderful day, this thing goes from me to you :)
Prompt from myself was Sherlock/Benedict driving a car & the words „"I'll give and you receive. I like being the dominant one."
(The quote will be in Chapter 2 though...)
This is Johnlock, my dear! Don't like, don't read! (This goes for anyone else, Emily: Go, read this shit! :D I know you love it. Plus, it is my birthday present to you :) ) By the way, I have no clue whatsoever about the life of the presenter of Top Gear, neither did I have the motivation to do a google search, so I let my imagination run wild :P
John was sitting in the living room of his small flat – which he wasn't sure you could even call a flat, but he couldn't afford better on his ridiculously small army pension – watching a television show about cars. He wasn't really into them, but the show had seemed interesting, so he'd tuned in.
Plus today's guest was supposed to be a detective, a really good one if you believe the media.
So with a beer that he was just only able to pay for every now and then, he sat on the sofa, watching as 3 people went around a circuit in 3 different cars.
When they were back in the studio, there was an empty backseat on stage and John thought "Here he comes".
As the man was announced, John was just barely able to make out the name "Sherlock Holmes" as the cheers of the audience, which consisted in big parts of women, were drowning the presenter out.
A man with curly, dark brown hair stepped inside, wearing tight black pants with an equally tight purple shirt – John felt sorry for the buttons who just barely seemed to be able to hold the piece of cloth together – as well as black leather shoes and a big coat with an upturned collar and a blue scarf.
It wasn't that it were 30 degrees outside, but it wasn't really winter either, so John was wondering why one would wear such a heavy, warming coat like that at this time of the year, especially when being inside.
As the cheering and laughter subsided, the presenter and Sherlock sat down across from each other.
"Thank you for coming, Mr. Holmes-"
"Sherlock."
"Excuse me?"
"I don't want to excuse you because I absolutely despise repeating myself, but it seems appropriate behaviour to do so. My name is Sherlock. Mr. Holmes is my brother and you do not want to talk to him right now, do you?"
The presenter was taken aback by Sherlock's attitude as the man rattled all this down while looking around, seemingly bored.
"Er- no, o-of course not. So, Sherlock thank you for coming."
The man in question dismissively waved a hand. "Yeah, you're welcome."
"Let's talk about you a bit, shall we? Sherlock, what exactly is it you do for a living?"
The curly haired man sighed. "Even though you all know what I do... I'm a consulting detective. That is when the police are out of their depth, which is always, they consult me."
"Do you also take on private cases?" The presenter seemed genuinely interested.
"I do, but I won't leave the house for anything less than an 8 & I don't take on anything beneath a 6."
"Okay... what would you consider a ten then?" Sherlock seemed shocked someone wanted to know so much about him, but he answered anyway in a bored tone. "I need a challenge. Mass murderers are the most challenging. They have to be careful and clever to not get caught. One mistake and everybody knows it was one." "Right... so show us your skills." Sherlock looked sceptical. "You want of to deduce you?" The presenter nodded eagerly while the audience started cheering. "Are you absolutely certain?" Sherlock smirked.
-This is going to be fun.-
He took on a serious expression and a quick look at the man sitting across from him got him everything he needed. The detective glanced up and smiled.
"You're actually 57, not 53 your date for the CV is a fake. Before working here, you owned half of a bar but the other owner bought you out after a fight over a woman. Really? Anyways, you applied for a job and wrote a half-false CV before pulling some strings because you know people, don't you? And you got hired. You've just recently divorced your wife who was cheating on you with the PE teacher of the older one of your two sons, one of which is presumably gay, I'm guessing the older one since your younger boy is hiding an older girlfriend from you. That should be enough for now, don't you think?"
The whole studio was so quiet, you could've heard a pin fall to the carpeted floor.
"Did you search me on the internet?"
Sherlock scoffed "Please, I'm not even remotely interested in you to waste my time with that." He spat the last word out as if it was poison on his tongue.
"Right..." The room was still silent and the presenter didn't seem to know what to say.
"So, let's watch your lap, shall we?"
"Whatever..."
John saw the clip roll of Sherlock driving some car around on a track. He had no idea what kind of car it was, but it looked pretty expensive.
As the clip had come to an end, they showed the studio again and next to the presenter was a big blackboard with several stripes on it that had names and a time written down.
The presenter took out a long stripe with Sherlock's name on it and tried to make him guess where he would stand.
"I wanted to be more faster than that guy, I don't remember his name, it's not important, but I made an 1.47.8, so just put me below him, will you?"
"Sure." So he did and Sherlock simply thanked him and got up to walk out of the studio, his coat billowing behind him.
"And that was Sherlock Holmes. I don't know if he hears it, probably not, but thanks for being here, I guess. That was tonight's show, tune in next week. Bye!"
Cheers from the audience before the screen went black.
John put the remote back down on the table before him and went to bed.
Still, even though he was really tired, he just couldn't fall asleep. Sherlock Holmes was stuck in his head.
He decided to go out since he was sure he wouldn't be able to get any sleep like that tonight. Maybe fresh air could help him clear his mind. So he took his jacket and his cane and went out the door.
Strolling through the streets, he found people walking around in a frenzy, whispering to each other. John tried to avoid them but one girl ran into him without realizing it. He fell backwards onto his behind and dropped his cane in the process.
"Damn! Can't you watch where you're going?!"
But the girl was already gone. He seemed alone now on the street.
Just as he was about to try to reach for his cane to help him get up, he found a hand outstretched in front of him.
John looked up and saw that familiar face from the tv show in front of him. Even though it was fairly dark, nobody could've mistook those cheekbones and the clear eyes that seemed to change colour.
"Thank you" John said as he took the offered hand to get up.
As he stood, he was also offered his cane which he took gratefully.
"You know you don't actually need that thing." John's eyes shot back up into the face of the detective who seemed to know everything.
"What?"
"I know your limp's psychosomatic, at least partly. It seemed you'd forgotten about the pain there for a second before that girl bumped into you. So, your psychiatrist should be thrilled, she's right about at least one thing." The curly haired man smirked at him and John forgot for a moment where he was.
-What is going on? I'm not gay!-
"Could I borrow your phone for a second?"
"Uhm... sure I guess..." He handed his phone over and Sherlock quickly typed something in it before flicking it around and giving it back to John.
"So, how is your sibling doing?"
John's eyes widened in shock." How-"
"'How do I know?' Simple. Your phone. My first assumption was that you have a brother, but I do believe it is a woman. No man would accept a phone where there are three x's engraved in it. So either she's bisexual, which is highly unlikely or she's lesbian. I just hope she's gotten over her drinking problem now."
"..."
"Oh, sorry. Shall I explain? Engraving with the name Clara & three x's, so clearly a romantic relationship, but this wasn't your phone from the beginning. Your sister gave it to you after Clara broke up with her in hope you'd call her more often. Now, the drinking: Look at the plug socket, there are scratches around it. Never see those on a clean person's phone, never see a drunk's without them. Her hands are shaking everytime she wants to plug it in."
"Amazing..." Now Sherlock was the one looking surprised at that.
"You-you think so?!"
"Yeah, it was quite extraordinary."
"That's not what people normally say.
"Then what do they normally say?"
"Piss off."
Both started laughing at that and when they'd caught their breath, John stretched out his hand.
"John. John Watson."
"Sherlock Holmes." They smiled at each other before Sherlock came to stand right next to John and they leisurely walked through the darkened streets of London.
"So, what are you doing outside at this time on a sunday evening?"
John stopped walking. "Why do you ask?"
"Just wanting to know if my deduction was correct."
The smirk on the detective's face was back.
John took him in for a challenge. "What did you deduce then?" There was a full blown smile on his face now as he bent down and took John's face in both his hands before kissing him full on the mouth.
For a few seconds John was too shocked to react, but as Sherlock grabbed his ass, he gasped and the detective took this as an invitation to let his tongue invade John's mouth. The shorter man let go of his cane which dropped to the floor but neither man cared as both got lost in the kiss. John wound his arms around Sherlock, tangling his hands in the dark curls. John let out a whimper as the detective pulled back (way too early of course). They looked each other in the eyes before leaning their foreheads against the other's and John saw Sherlock's smirk back in place.
"Why don't we continue this somewhere more private? Let's go to my place."
John wasn't able to say anything besides "Oh god, yes"and Sherlock grabbed his hand to take him away, the cane forgotten on the pavement.
So, this was the part for everyone, if you want smut, there's a second chapter ;)
I'd love to hear what you think.