This takes place before Mary happened. Sorry not sorry, it's just I really hate her.
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing, I just love Sherlock and John with undying devotion.
Title and chapters' titles come from My Chemical Romance's song "Demolition Lovers". Seriously though, it helds so many johnlock feels. Go and listen to it.
I regret nothing.
CHAPTER 1: All We Are Is Bullets.
Sweary John Watson is my favorite :)
John was walking heavily up the stairs. He was fucking exhausted. Day on the surgery was a nightmare, taking a tub was one of his worst decisions ever and he got all soaked wet, not having an umbrella while caught by sudden downpour. He really watched for a quiet evening with crap telly and a cuppa, and deeply hoped that Sherlock would leave him in peace, or else he was pretty sure he will end up killing his brilliant flatmate with particular cruelty.
He opened the door to 221b, closed them, maybe a bit too fiercely, but he really was pissed off, and to his great discontent saw a client sitting in the chair. Sherlock was sitting on his usual place, fingers laced under his chin, eyes fixed on the young, handsome man. John eyed him suspiciosly. He was tall, it was hard to tell since he was sitting, but maybe even taller than Sherlock, fit, had dark, shiny hair combed fashionably on the side, and was dressed sharply, his suit well tailored and fitting perfectly. He looked like a slightly differentiated version of Sherlock, except his face was more delicate, and big eyes surrounded by long lashes held softer expression.
"We've got a client, great." Stated John sarcastically.
Sherlock looked at him sharply.
"John, this is Victor Trevor, my...acquaiatance from uni." Said detective blankly. "And indeed, we've got a case."
"Acquiatance?" Laughed Victor, and, John has to admit, his laughter was charming. What else to be expected from such a ideal man? John wasn't the one to be self-conscious, but suddenly when faced with not one but two extraordinaly perfect man he felt rather uneasy. "That's how you call me now, Sherlock? If my memory serves me we used to be much more than acquiatances back then."
He smiles, pure seduction painted on his face.
John winced, not quite believing his ears.
Sherlock pulled a face.
"Yes, indeed, I should rather refer to you as my ex." He said sourly.
"Don't be like that, we used to have such a great time together." Other man said, winking. He fucking winked. John was getting gradually more pissed at this man, and he wasn't sure why. Maybe his tiredness was speaking through him? Yeah, that was probably this. "Before you rather cruelly dumped me. You got bored, didn't you, Sherly?"
"If you was so kind and not ever call me that again I would be very thankful." Says detective coldly, smiling like in spite of himself though. "Now lets get back to what brings you here as I highly doubt it's the sudden need to see me again."
"Don't be so modest, it doesn't suit you, dear." Victor says, smiling a smile John has no idea how to refer to apart of sexy. "I'm honestly delighted to see your pretty face again."
"Back to buissnes, if you please." Repeats Sherlock.
John feels the sudden need to throw something at the wall.
Well, it's not like he didn't realized his attraction to his flatmate before. He just simply refused to accept it. He wasn't gay, despite what everyone seemed to think. He dissmissed the fact he was getting a hard on seeing his flatmate covered only in sheet just like he was denying his every date since he moved in to 221b was a disaster, every girl scared away by detective or John himself. He also rejected the very though that he kinda gave up dating already. He was not in love, very much not. He was just irritated by this whole fucking Victor behaving like a sodding douchebag, that was all.
"So you've been blackmailed, yes?" Sherlock's voice brought John back from his thoughts, and he realized he was leaning by the doorframe whole time and saying nothing. So he sat wearily on his chair, but remained silent nonetheless.
"Yes. Some sick bastard keeps sending me these messages." Victor nodded. "You see, he said that if I won't give him money till next Saturday, world will see these pictures. And in position in which my job puts me I cannot afford such a humilitation. It would ruin me."
"Victor works for Mycroft." Detective spits his brother's name in with distaste, looking up at John. Then he looks back at Victor again. "And what exactly these photographs show?"
"Well." Victor's cheeks turned slightly red. "Me and Jeanette Winterson in...ambigous situation."
"This Jeanette Winterson?" John spoke for the first time, frowning. Sherlock looked at him with blank, unknowing expression on his face.
Of course, it was so alike him not to know a thing about woman being all over magazines and TV these days.
"Jeanette Winterson is a porn star." Explained John to him patiently, not looking at Victor but smirking inside. This git deserved it, deserved it all, John thought, still iritated. "Very popular now, and appearing on media almost all the time. She also does a bit of modelling I guess."
Sherlock raised his brow, somewhat amused.
"I see. And you have not the slighest idea, who's blackmailing you?" He asked Victor.
"No." He said. "That's why I'm coming to you. It was just one night stand, I wasn't even dating her, I was...well, I was high and it just somehow happened. Jesus, I'm not even straight!"
"That I realize myself." Said Sherlock coldly. "Have you got these messages with you?"
"Yes, I got them printed." Victor pulled papers from his briefcase and hesitantly handed them to the detective. Sherlock read them silently.
"Oh for God's sake, it's too easy! Style is coarse and she made at least three grammar mistakes. Furthermore, this was written in highly emotional state, the woman who wrote these emails to you was furious." Detective looked almost offended. "How can't you see that?! Why are people so STUPID?!" Exclaimed Sherlock, not paying the slighest attention to look of shock on John's and Victor's faces.
Victor looked at briliant detective with unsure look in his eyes. "Who is it, then?"
"It's Mrs. Winterson herself." Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Oh come one, it's so simple!"
"Sherlock." John glared at him with warning.
Detective sighed dramatically.
"She was attracted to you, she seduced you, and then you rejected her. More, you told her you're gay. She got furious and decided to take revenge on you. Really, it was rather moronic from you to got these pictures taken."
"Well, I told you, I was high." Said Victor matter-of-factly. "You, among all people, should know I wasn't quite myself."
"I'm over that." Said Sherlock, looking at him indifferently.
"I heard so." Victor was back to his charming self. "So. What should I do?"
"You do nothing." Said detective impatiently. "We go and confront her. Do you have her adress?"
Young man recited the street and number without hesitancy.
"Ah, same brilliant memory." Mocked detective. "You really waste your talent, Victor."
"As I remember, you used to do exactly the same with your talent." Smiled young man. "Really, we used to have so much fun together."
Sherlock ignored him, looking at John instead.
"Come on, John, let's go." He said.
John decided this day couldn't possibly be worse, and buttoned up his jacket, following detective and Victor down the stairs.