Help Doctor
John sat in the living room reading the paper as usual every morning. And as usual Sherlock came storming in a dramatic fashion. John glanced up to see the man literally hopping into the room, pain contorted in his face. He was looking slightly more unusual than usual. John folded and rested his newspaper with a frown. The detective was flexing his fingers and looking like he was trying to create a friction between his thighs as his mouth mumbled on mutely. He looked like he was trying to scratch one leg without the use of his hands. John would've been amused by all the sneering teeth over lip expressions that Sherlock was making if he wasn't struggling to walk across the room with his weird leg problem.
"What's the matter? you look like you've got piles or something". "It's nothing.. just this bloody incessant itching, getting in the way of my work. It'll go away soon.. probably..hopefully..GOD" he screamed in frustration, looking up at the heavens. John stood up at that, "where are you itching?" he asked. Sherlock whipped his head to John, eye twitching irritably "my manhood John! isn't it obvious? it's been burning for hours" he said with a heavy scrunching of his nose. John's eyebrows rose up "woah woah woah, you? what did you do?". "Nothing!" Sherlock gasped out, rolling his eyes. John crossed his arms looking at Sherlock with a stern 'Tell me, bitch' expression. "Okay", Sherlock contorted awkwardly within gasps.
"I was just testing a few chemical reactions on myself, nothing serious, looking for allergenic properties. Just a little inflammation" "infla-" "God forget it, I need to scratch" he stated as he got ready to dig his nails into his holy grail. "NO! DO NOT touch it..God, just just..gah..p-pull your pants down" John said, screwing his eyes shut and shaking his head. Sherlock rotated his body towards John, his legs forming a sort of number 4 yoga like stance, hands on his hips as he still attempted to relieve himself. He raised a brow. "Flatterred John, truly, deeply. But I prefer to leave some things up to the im-" "SHERLOCK" John interupted sternly. "I am a doctor if you remember, let me see. I can help". Sherlock made a gesture of approval with his head then started fumbling his pants open slowly as John blinked irritably and lowered onto his knees to look at it.
Sherlock pulled his pants down to his thighs and then straightened up, hands on his waist and staring ahead "well? how does it look?". "First. Why aren't you wearing any underwear?". "It's liberating. Doesn't get in the way". John sighed and blinked furiously before resting his hands on either side of of Sherlock's pelvis, squinting strangely at the man's bare crotch. He didnt notice Sherlock raising his hand to check his wristwatch with an evil smirk, glancing over at the door and doing a mental countdown. John brought his face slightly closer. "Curious" ..3.. "I don't" ..2.. "see any-" ..1..
"John are you in? Miss Hud- Oh my GOd". Sherlock looked over at the lady with a smile, John's latest girlfriend. "Morning!". "Uh-uh-ah-I..shit" she stuttered before racing back down stairs. John stared horrified at the open door, "Oh GOD, KAthy wait!" he screamed, scrambling after her. Sherlock cleared his throat before yelling "JOHN hurry back! you have yet to relieve me, you talented veteran!". He winced a bit at the sound of a door slamming. Shortly after John jogged back up. "Aghh dammit..she just..had to turn up at that time.. and Miss Hudson had to blast her tunes on today of all days" John said with a depressed sigh, dropping his head down and rubbing his temple. Sherlock coughed a little, "ah well yes, let's ju-". "Ah forget it, let me see again". Sherlock rotated awkwardly "y'know what" he said, his face in a sudden state of epiphany, mouth a slack. "Great news John! I think the pain is already residing. A scientific miracle! Ah well no, I knew it would lift eventually. Funny that. Told you not to fret. Now back to work shall we?".
"What what? but you..just..just.. wait a minute, wait a bloody minute". Sherlock's eyes moved to the window. "But your.." John looked at Sherlock's package. Sherlock's eyes moved to the ceiling. "How come it..". Sherlock's eyes moved to the floor. "...For CHRIST's sake". Sherlock smiled unemotionally.
"You didn't have a bloody infection at all! did you!?". Sherlock sighed, "Dull Miss number 9 with the three ex husbands and an on and off second lover will be back John. For now you two could use a few days of break hm? Now let's get back to work, I need your focus here my good man". Sherlock said with his best shit eating grin. Walking into the kitchen to conduct a few experiments, still forgetting to pull his pants back up. John stood still as a statue, his incredulous eyes burning a hole into the wall and wondering if Lestrade would back him up after he killed the crap out of Sherlock Holmes.
AN: lol made this within the past half hr on impulse. Sorry for a lack of research, gotta head to class now!