Chequebook for Lovers
Chapter One – Birthday
Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock nor do I profit from this, unless you count the sunny feeling of goodness that comes from knowing some people are reading my fic.
Summary: John gets a rather odd present from Sherlock. How will he choose to use it?
Pairing: John/Sherlock ;) YUMMYMANLOVE ;)
It had been a rather pleasant day, mused John as he brushed cake crumbs lazily off his knitted jumper and smiled sleepily at his flatmate, who was dozing curled up on the sofa. He looked cozy as a cat by the fireside.
Sherlock had been positively brilliant today, wishing John a Happy Birthday and presenting him with a slightly burned piece of toast and a lukewarm cup of tea in the morning, then proceeding to take him to witness the conclusion of the latest case.
That made six murderers they'd put behind bars in three months. Good going, John thought to himself. Especially as he was also juggling a job at the clinic.
Later on they'd had cake and champagne that Mrs. Hudson had brought round. The bubbles had gone straight to the detective's head.
John studied the man on the sofa again, letting a warm smile play about his lips. There was something about seeing Sherlock so vulnerable that was beautiful. Those high cheekbones still with sleep, fingers looking longer and more slender because his phone was absent, and the usually so restless feet tucked under blanket.
The doctor wanted to go and stroke his face, letting his fingers rest on those rose-pink lips. John shook himself. He'd had a little more champagne than he realised. Laughing to himself, he looked down towards Sherlock's coat, which was covering his legs like a blanket.
A little red ribbon was hanging out of the top pocket. Curiosity piqued, John pulled it, and retrieved a rectangular package wrapped in sparkly paper with dinosaurs on it. There was a little tag that read:
John I can't believe how nosy you are, poking through my pockets. I suppose you might as well open it now though. Happy Birthday. From Sherlock.
He laughed quietly; undoing the crinkly wrapping that John also realised said 'Happy 5th Birthday!' It wasn't too much of a stretch to think that Sherlock might have nicked it from some unsuspecting child.
As soon as the gift was freed John stopped dead. This was suddenly no laughing matter. It was what looked like a booklet for ration-vouchers, or a chequebook but the words that were jumping out at John were, "FOR LOVERS!"
His breath hitched in his throat as his brain slowly took in the whole front cover. 'Romantic Roy's Vouchers For Lovers Collection: The Gift That Gives 20 Times!'
A massive part of John's brain was telling him this was a practical joke and that there was no way that Sherlock could be romantically interested in him. Then there was a tiny, extremely repressed voice squeaking something about how he wished it wasn't his friend being immature.
Either way...he was going to have to question Sherlock when he awoke.
John took a cursory flip through the booklet and blanched. Shower for two were the first words that assaulted his eyes.
He was being a prude, he realised this and that he should be laughing his head off right now. Anyone else would be.
Sherlock Holmes wasn't the average man though, and John wondered if the detective would want to take these more seriously than Romantic Roy had ever intended. He kind of wished he did.