What starts off as a few drinks down the pub and an innocent drinking game turns into something a whole lot different.
I-I
"Go on, you know you want to. Don't deny it, you love showing off."
Sherlock scowled at John before rolling his eyes and saying "What's the point in genius without an audience?"
"Forever modest. Brilliant, I'll get the first round then. Merlot?"
"A pint of ale would be more suited to this ridiculous drinking game, surely? No point wasting good wine. Not that I'll be drinking."
John smiled. "I think you will. I've been a regular at this pub since I was at Bart's. I know everyone and everything about them. It's amazing how many secrets people divulge after a few pints."
"And you're willing to pit my deductive skills against your knowledge of these secrets?"
"Exactly." John paid the barman, grabbed their drinks and they made their way over to a small booth in the corner of the crowded pub. As they settled in he elaborated. "I'll point someone out, someone with a secret, and you use those magic mind reading powers to tell me what it is."
"It's not magic, it's-"
"I know, I was being- oh never mind. Basically if you can tell me what their secret is then I drink. If you get it wrong then you drink."
Sherlock tried to hide it but John could tell he was excited by the prospect of playing this game. Any excuse to show off, test his skills in an unfamiliar setting. And it made John happy. He asked "Am I allowed to interact with them?"
"No. Just observe. And you're not allowed to ask me anything either."
Sherlock stooped his fingers and touched them to his lips in that way that told John he was thinking hard, observing everything. Sherlock leant back in the booth and smiled lightly. "I accept your terms but add that the forfeit is not just a quick sip, but half the pint. Agreed?" John nodded. "Now pick someone."
John grinned and swept his eyes around the crowded bar. He settled on a middle aged man, red of face and round of stomach. "Him. Big bloke in the blue shirt. Dave Wilson. And do be subtle Sherlock, I don't want anything kicking off because of your staring."
"Oh I'm sure you could handle any ruckus that might kick off."
John smiled into his pint as he took a sip and waited for Sherlock to reach his conclusions. It didn't take long. Within one minute Sherlock turned triumphantly to John and said "Gambling addict. Not betting, but card games. Thinks no one knows but his wife does. Doesn't know about the loan shark though. I'd say, hmmm... around £10,000 in debt?" With a grin like the Cheshire cats Sherlock asked "Did I miss anything?"
John closed his gaping mouth and gulped. "No, that's about it. How did you-"
"Do you really want to go through this every time? It'll be a slow game otherwise. Drink up."
"True." John sighed and downed half his ale. He scowled at Sherlock's pleased expression and turned back to look at their fellow patrons. "Her. Barmaid, pulling a pint for that short man in the red shoes."
And so it went on. Sherlock successfully deduced that the barmaid was pregnant with the pub owner's child, that the old married couple in the corner were secretly millionaires despite their appearance, that the young man with the attractive fiancée was actually gay, and that the balding man who was out for drinks with his mates didn't want to admit to his friends that he couldn't drink alcohol.
"That one was easy. He buys himself a whiskey and when no one's looking he pours it little-by-little on the floor. You could have worked that one out."
"This games no fun." John scowled down blurrily at the empty pint glasses in front of him and then looked to Sherlock's untouched drink. "I thought you'd get at least one wrong. I suddenly feel very exposed. It must be horrible to know everyone's dirty little secrets."
Sherlock stared at him blankly. "Not everyone's. And most are so mundane that they don't really deserve to be kept secret. Boring."
"Fine let's change the game."
"To what?"
John's smirk was devilish. "The old classic. Never have I ever. Bet I can get you drinking now."
Sherlock's eyes narrowed. "I assume you make a statement beginning with 'Never have I ever' and then, what? I drink if I have?"
"Yes. It can be about anything at all. I could also say 'Never have I ever' and then drink myself if I have done it. Like, if I said 'Never have I ever lived at Baker Street' then we would both have to drink."
"Seems simple enough. All right. You start."
John's head felt slightly slow and belly felt very warm as he started in on his 4th pint. He figured it would be better to start slow. "Never have I ever been to China."
Sherlock took a deep drink, pondered a moment and then said "Never have I ever had a sister."
"That's just victimising." John drank. The game continued.
"Never have I ever- eaten sushi."
"-punched someone."
"-been arrested."
"-stolen something."
"-lied to my parents."
"-wanted to hit Anderson."
"-seen Titanic."
"-solved a rubiks cube."
"-hugged Mrs Hudson."
"-shown Lestrade how to use his mobile phone."
The drink flowed and so did the laughter. ('Don't deny it Sherlock, everyone's done it!'- 'They haven't. I have never farted in public and blamed it on someone else.' – 'Then you haven't lived!' – 'That makes no sense John.') The pub grew livelier as it got later but the two men didn't notice, so wrapped up in their game.
John said, "Never have I ever been skinny dipping."
"Is that where you take off all of your clothes and go frolicking into the sea?"
"That's the one."
"Can't say I have." Sherlock stared at John. "Never have I ever been able to identify over 140 different types of tobacco ash."
John sighed and drank. He returned Sherlock's stare and in a moment of alcohol-induced confidence he blurted "Never have I ever had a sexual fantasy." He quickly covered up his shock at his own words by taking a long drink.
Sherlock's expression was unreadable. For a second John thought he was going to get up and walk out and just as he was about to open his mouth to say something (what, he has no idea), when Sherlock slowly picked up his glass. He stared at John, unwaveringly, took a sip before putting the glass back on the table.
"Oh." John closed his open mouth. The tension across the table had changed all of a sudden. What had been a fun, meaningless drinking game had mutated into something quite different. Something serious. John didn't know what it was; all he could tell was that now this had become a competition. And he didn't know the rules.
Sherlock leaned forwards so that his elbows rested on the table and his chin rested on his clasped hands. "Never have I ever" he began slowly, looking John up and down, "...swallowed."
John stared in open eyed shock at Sherlock. Surely he didn't mean...? This was Sherlock! With matters like this he had to have everything spelt out to him. How many times had John tried to explain something 'delicately'? And now here he was asking...
John shook his head. So this was the game Sherlock was playing. John still didn't know the rules but that didn't mean he couldn't play. If Sherlock can play dumb than so could he. He smirked and said "Well, of course, I'd starve otherwise, surely?" He took a drink.
Sherlock's expression barely changed but John got the impression he was both annoyed and pleased at the same time. John's turn. "Never have I ever lived with someone who was more than a friend."
"A colleague, of course." Sherlock and John drank at the same time.
"Never have I ever had a sexual fantasy about someone I know well." Both drank.
John wondered how brave he felt. The alcohol was swimming in his system now and he could see that Sherlock, who drank ale so rarely and was nearing the end of his third pint, was not as unaffected as he'd like to seem. They'd been drinking quickly and it showed. Before he could talk himself out of it he said "Never have I ever had sex."
John drank as Sherlock watched. Sherlock's hand tightened around his drink and his long fingers scratched at the glass. A muscle in his jaw, clenched tightly, twitched. Without warning he raised the glass and took a swift drink.
Surprised, John blurted "Who?"
"That's not a 'Never have I ever' statement. And it's my turn."
John frowned and fought the urge to punch something. For some reason the idea of Sherlock being with someone like that made him want to hit things. He told himself it was just because he didn't know, that Sherlock hadn't told him. It was about it being a secret.
Sherlock studied John as he took in this new information. He could see Johns anger flaring up, being controlled, rationalised. He was always such an open book. On some things anyway. On others... Sherlock hated not knowing.
"I'm thinking," Sherlock interrupted John's thoughts, "that this pub will close soon. And then we'll be fighting for cabs. And this game might take a while."
"I have whiskey at home."
"That'll do. Grab your coat."
I-I
Hope you liked it, I've not written any Johnlock before so suggestions are welcomed. Especially about what you want to happen in the next chapter. Let me know what you think :)