I couldn't resist the temptation of having a bit of fun with John's mustache, and this is the result! I finally wrote a story in pure conversation format, I hope it's clear enough...

Thank you Ennui Enigma for being my ever patient Beta.

Disclaimer: If I owned it, I wouldn't have been so shocked when I saw John's mustache!

You remind me of someone

"Are you done?"

"No."

"This is beginning to get uncomfortable, Sherlock"

"No John, you having to go and grow a mustache is uncomfortable. Having to get used to your new face is uncomfortable. Getting used to your new appearance is uncomfortable! Why can't you just shave it?"

"Because I like my mustache."

"It looks odd on your face."

"I'm sitting right here. Stare at it as long as you need until you get used to it."

"You remind me of someone now. Richard something, no…"

"Take your time."

"Ah, Edward Hardwicke, British actor."

"Alright."

"He's dead John!"

"So?"

"Your mustache is like a dead actor's."

"Well, your hair style is like Lord Byron's, nineteenth century poet. I don't ask you to change it, Sherlock."

"No it doesn't."

"It reminds me of it."

"My hear line isn't receding!"

"No, but your hair is curly and it flops into your forehead, and it reminds me of Lord Byron's style."

"But you've seen me like this from the day we met, John. Your mustache is a deviation from the image I have gotten used to."

"Just the mustache?"

"That's the most unbearable feature."

"I'm not shaving it."

"…"

"What is it, Sherlock? Why are you staring like that? Is something wrong?"

"John, there's a giant caterpillar on your lip! Let me get a razor so I can kill it for you!"

"Very funny, Sherlock. The razor is staying in the bathroom."

"John, you look like a Hell's Angels biker."

"And you look like a curly haired Vulcan, you don't see me complaining!"

"Jooooohn!"

"I'm not shaving it Sherlock, stop whining."

"I don't think I can get used to it. You look like someone I once saw in an old photo album belonging to my great-grandfather."

"Mhm, that's nice Sherlock."

"John, if you don't shave your mustache I'll-I'll-"

"Oh I really want to hear how you're going to finish that sentence!"

"I'll grow a mustache of my own!"

"…Okay!"

Two weeks later:

"How're you getting along with the mustache, Sherlock?"

"It's growing fine, how about yours?"

"It's okay; I have to trim it occasionally to keep it neat."

"…So, aren't you bothered by my new appearance, John?"

"Not much. You kind of look like a World War One officer now."

"You look like that annoying Sargent from the series Life on Mars."

"Well, you look like that guy from Anchor Man."

"Seriously John?"

*Sound of footsteps on the stares*

"Lestrade, do you have a case for us?"

"Greg, why are you turning red? Are you alright?"

"You're-I mean, you two, OH MY GOD, BOWHAHAHA!"

"Why are you laughing Lestrade?"

"YOU MATCH! HAHAHA!"

"Sherlock, what's wrong with Greg? I worry that he might faint!"

"Lestrade is amused by our matching facial hair."

"Matching? No, no,no,no, there is nothing matching about our mustaches. They don't look a thing alike."

"You two look like the Mario Brothers, hahahaha!"

"No we don't!"

"I'll text you the details Luigi! Bring along Mario with you, the guys would want to take some photos, hahaha!"

*Lestrade leaves, the sound of his laughter drifting through the stair case*

"Mario Brothers, seriously?"

"It could have been worse, John. He could have arrested you on suspicion of being a member of a biking gang!"

"This is all your fault, Sherlock. No one made fun of my mustache until you grew one!"

"Shall we shave our mustaches together then?"

"Absolutely!"

Shave! Shave! Shave!

So, what did you think?