A/N- Inspired by this adorable deviation that sets the mood for the fic- you should check it out before/after/during your read.
art/Sherlock-John-204974437
I dare you to type the link right! XP
The sound of the violin was nearly always present in the flat, and, nearly always, Sherlock was the one playing it. But today was different.
Different in quite a few ways, in fact, because today, Sherlock had gone out to buy milk. That almost never happened. And John was left alone in the flat.
John was sitting in his chair, reading. At first he tried to ignore the violin, just sitting there on the desk, but eventually it got impossible. He got up tentatively and took a step towards the beautiful instrument. Picking it up, he thought for a moment and pictured how Sherlock held it, trying to copy the stance.
When the bow touched the strings, a horrible grating sound quite alike to a dying cat rang out.
John winced, and tried again. The results weren't much different, sadly, but that didn't stop the doctor. He kept playing, hoping that he'd get better with practice.
When Sherlock got back, he ran up the stairs trying to stuff his scarf into his ears. "Good god, stop it!"
John froze.
Sherlock opened the door. "What are you doing?"
"Uh, uh, issa, issa nothing," John said quickly, trying to hide the violin frantically and simultaneously ignore the very prominent blush on his cheeks. He cleared his throat. "It's nothing."
Sherlock looked at him like he was a complete idiot.
"Sorry," John said, hanging his head.
"Why are you apologizing?" exclaimed Sherlock. "Don't put it down!"
John tilted his head to one side, confused. "But I sound awful."
"Well you won't soon," Sherlock said, throwing his shopping on the couch and taking off his scarf. "I'm going to teach you how to play."
"Me? Violin?" John couldn't believe it. "Why?"
Sherlock shrugged. "Why not? I have no case and when I'm bored, I play violin. Now, even violin gets dull sometimes. But berating someone for doing something wrong that you can do right- nothing beats it." Sherlock sighed. "That's why I love teaching people."
"Go on then," John said, picking the instrument back up. "Teach me."
Sherlock stood up. He placed one hand on each of John's shoulders and spun the doctor so that they weren't facing.
"What was that for?" asked John indignantly. He tried to turn back around, but the consulting detective held him still.
"It's easier this way because if we're facing then I have to do everything backwards. Make sense?" Sherlock muttered.
"Uh, no." John shook his head.
Sherlock shrugged. "No matter. So, hold the bow in your right hand, and the violin in your left. And bring it up to your shoulder- no, here." He guided John's hand- and the violin- to the correct place, leaving his own hand there resting on the doctor's.
John gritted his teeth, trying to keep perfectly still and hold the instrument correctly. It was much harder than he'd imagined.
"Fingers on the strings like- there, you've got it," Sherlock continued. "And the bow. Bring it up."
John lifted it.
"No, higher. Your arm should be horizontal to the ground," said Sherlock, pushing John's elbow up so that the doctor's arm was in the right position. "And now, how to play a song."
Overall, the session, stretching out to several hour's length, went very nicely. How fast John learned shocked Sherlock, and how patient Sherlock could really be shocked John. Mostly, it left both of them wondering what else they'd learn about each other next time they bonded over a violin.