I'm making them slash, I hope everyone is okay with that. I've been debating, but the fact that John has a tactile gift, of course Sherlock would experiment with kissing, not to mention that Sherlock has been secretly crushing on the doctor.
I don't really expect hardcore smut unless people tell me otherwise. The next two chapters will probably be fluff and experiments.
I appreciate all of the amazing reviews.
I like fast updating.
Peace&Love
Sophie
Business carries on as usual and to John's relief their friendship hasn't changed. In fact, John and the detective have become closer, well, as close as Sherlock can get to someone.
The only thing that is different is Sherlock mentally demands things instead of asks for them, to which the doctor ignores. John refuses to encourage the genius's laziness.
Sherlock has either gotten better at making his thoughts known, or John has gotten weaker since the attack in the alley.
Nowadays, Sherlock thoughts reverberate in John's head more often than not.
"I'm bored, please John. Please let me do an experiment." Sherlock begs one Saturday. John isn't on shift with the surgery and is resting on his much needed day off.
"No," John answers firmly. "How can you be bored? We just got back from a case last night." John adds calmly, still watching the telly as he munches on his breakfast. His legs are still sore from running half way across London the night before looking for a murderer. They caught the guy just as he was about to jump off the Waterloo bridge.
"Dull."
"That was last night, I'm bored now." Sherlock huffs petulantly and flops himself face down onto the couch.
"Oh great, Sherlock is going to be sulking all day long." John sighs.
"I told you no. My mind is not an experiment." John says firmly, getting up from his chair and putting his dishes in the sink. He scrubs the dishes as the other room emits silence.
"Dull."
John huffs, finishing the drying. He is about to go out and leave Sherlock to his own sulk when he hears, "John, where is your gun?"
Within fifteen minutes they are both out the door. Sherlock dragging John somewhere 'experiment worthy'.
They walk slowly along Baker Street, towards Regents Park.
"I'm only agreeing to this so you don't shoot holes in the wall." John comments, irritated that the detective can manipulate John so easily. "Mrs. Hudson is going to murder you one of these days." The doctor exasperates.
"Good thing you could read her mind and turn her in if she did."
"Not the point." John glares at the genius as they continue to walk.
"I'm not invading people's minds." John declares firmly, he may have been coerced to agree with the experiment but he wasn't going to break privacy or his rules.
"Only mine." Sherlock says with a smile and before John could protest, the detective bounces away, only emitting a firm "Stay." The four words make John still and lean against the nearest brick wall, watching as the detective strides away. The soldier starts to wonder idly where Sherlock has gone, but then realises that would be futile. He scans the area anyway and still gets disappointed slightly when he doesn't see the excited form of the curly haired genius.
A prickling in his head starts. "Oh great." John thinks to himself as London's mumbles start to invade. He can't hear the annoying insignificant sounds of the unreadable thoughts just yet but he knows the feeling. The white noise is close. He prepares himself for the noise, it's easier and less overwhelming if he mentally prepares himself.
His phone vibrates in his pocket. The mumblings of the city are getting more and more incoherent, by the time he pulls his phone out and reads it, the white noise is at the forefront of his brain.
Brilliant. I'm 350 meters away to the north and now you are exhibiting signs of 'white noise' - SH
How did you walk 350 meters in that short of time? Where are you? - JW
Irrelevant. I'm right, aren't I? - SH
Yes, of course you git - JW
John grunts frustratingly at the mobile.
"John." He hears Sherlock's voice clear as day in his head. He whips his head around, making sure he isn't close. His phone vibrates again.
Did you hear me? - SH
Yes - How far are you - JW
"375 meters."
Did you take a taxi for the 25 meters? - JW
"Irrelevant."
John sighs, of course the detective's mind can be heard at long distances, why should that surprise John?
Couldn't I have stayed at the flat for this? - JW
John stares at the street, the white noise annoying but tolerable. He takes the chance to try and probe Sherlock's mind. He's never done it when not in direct line of sight. John closes his eyes and focuses on the link. He sees a taxi cab, he can feel excitement, he sees Sherlock entering underneath a sigh that reads 'Hyde Park'.
"John, stop that. This is my experiment." The doctor breaks the link, disbelieving at the range. Hyde Park is over two kilometers away.
I can experiment too, you are over two kilometers away and I can still hear you. This is bloody amazing - JW
"I know, I'm sitting on a bench now, do you see the women in front of me?" Sherlock question rings through John's mind. It is all so strange. John opens the link again, finding it easier to connect and latch on this time then before. The doctor sees the woman that the detective is talking about, her hair is short and black, she is in her early twenties and reading a book.
"Read her mind."
John bulks and types furiously on his mobile's keypad.
I told you, I wasn't going to do that. - JW
"Come on John, just this once. This is a breakthrough."
The doctor huffs and seriously contemplates walking back to the flat.
"Please, John." Sherlock's voice is whiny.
Fine. Fine. You're lucky I like you - JW
To be honest, John is a little bit curious himself. Could he really read someone's mind without ever seeing them physically?
John tries to reach out for the woman's brain. He's never done anything like this before, he tries to latch onto to something tangible in the woman's mind. He closes his eyes and lets Sherlock's connection fade away slowly as he pictures the woman on the bench. Nothing happens, John can't find anything tangible. He sighs and takes a deep breath, he branches out again and after thirty seconds, there is still nothing.
Nothing. - JW
"Hhmm. Interesting." He hears Sherlock's mind whirling,
"Okay, one more, grab someone around you and listen to them as they walk away, see how long you can hear them."
Sherlock! - JW
"For the sake of human science. Please John." Sherlock uses his whining tone that John is unable to resist and the detective knows it.
"Have you ever had two connections at once?"
No, let me try - JW
John scans the crowd, the doctor spots a man, early thirties with a child latching onto his hand. They are talking animatedly. John probes the man's thoughts.
"I have to get home, and cook dinner, do the washing, cook for Charlie, send that email, I cannot forget to send that email, Charlie is very well behaved today, maybe a treat when we get home. God I hope Carol isn't home. She came smelling like him again. I can't believe her. She doesn't think I can smell him on her. It's ruining us, it's ruining Charlie..." The man rambles.
"Can you still hear me?" John's eyes widen in surprise. He can hear both Sherlock and the man at the same time. John holds both links as the man turns the corner, he closes his eyes and tries to keep the link. The man's ramblings are fading in and out quickly, and abruptly the man's thoughts are gone. John's mind snaps, like a rubber band extended. John's knees buckle and he slides down the wall. His thoughts race, the man's connection faded after a hundred meters, maybe less.
If that's the case, why is the doctor still able to hear Sherlock? Is it because of familiarity? How special is Sherlock? John starts developing a headache. Soon the white noise starts to fade, Sherlock must be within 350 meters. John leans his head between his knees breathing deep, a headache starting to form.
Why is there a range on the white noise, but now how far he can hear Sherlock? Questions take up John's thoughts, he doesn't even remember if he severed the link with the detective.
"John!" He knows Sherlock is calling for him, but the doctor can't respond, his head hurts and his thoughts consume him.
Sudden hands clasp on the doctor's forearms. John lifts his head up quickly and sees the gray eyes.
"Are you all right?" His face full of caution, the detective is second guessing the experiment, guilty over hurting John. It appears John didn't break the connection after all.
"I'm fine, just...that was bloody brilliant." He exclaims smiling foolishly. Sherlock beams back at him, all guilt gone, John drops the link and begins to stand.
"Your nose is bleeding slightly." John swipes his nose absentmindedly, a line of blood smears the back of his hand. Sherlock fishes in his pocket and hands him a packet of tissues.
"Did you know this was going to happen?" John asks suspiciously,
"I was just being prepared."
"I think it was the two connections at once that did me in." John states as they begin walking back to the flat, his nose bleed finally stopping and his headache almost gone. Sherlock nods his head distantly.
"Ah, analyzing data." John thinks, normally he would upset that Sherlock used him for an experiment, but the doctor is finding it hard to resent the younger man. John is analyzing his own data, the fact that he could hear Sherlock over two kilometers away but he could even hear the man with his child past a hundred meters.
"Was the experiment successful?" John asks as they climb the stairs to the flat.
"Insignificant data." Sherlock states out loud, moving towards the kitchen absentmindedly.
"We have to do it again?" John groans and flops down onto the couch.
"No, not necessarily." Sherlock says, the doctor can hear paper shifting as the detective rummages through the kitchen.
"What does it feel like?" John asks after a couple minutes.
"Interesting, results inconsistent."
That's the mental response that the doctor received. John sighs and forces himself off the couch, curiosity getting the better of him. He strolls into the kitchen and sees the detective writing down notes ferociously.
"Sherlock, What does it feel like when I'm in your mind?" John asks again, louder this time. Sherlock stops writing and slowly turns his head towards John. The doctor knows that smile, he should have known where the smile would lead. Sherlock gets up, almost menacingly.
"Sherlock, what are you doing?" John asks suddenly alarmed, backing up slowly, he may be a soldier, but he knows when he needs to retreat. Suddenly, the detective leaps onto John, they both careen to the floor, somewhat gently. John grunts in surprise. "What the hell-?" He calls but lips are suddenly on his, John tenses at the touch. The connection explodes in his mind, it's pleasant and warm. He sees flashes of Sherlock's memory. The detective sitting at the park, next to the woman. He feels the poking feeling in his brain. The doctor wonders idly at the poking sensation. It's not uncomfortable just different. Images float in John's mind, images of the two of them, John laughing, John scanning corpses.
The contact is gone and the images cease.
"Bloody hell." John gasps, realising that he isn't breathing. He pants and feels lips against his neck, pecking and moving to different areas of his neck. With each peck a different image flashes briefly. John smiling, Sherlock laughing and John trying to not giggle. John didn't realise he smiled so much in the presence of Sherlock. Confusion seeps in between the kisses and images.
"Wait, wait." John says pushing Sherlock off of him and rolling to the side, out from underneath the lean man. John sits up and looks at Sherlock. Genuine hurt and sadness fill the genius's eyes.
"I'm sorry, John. I-" The detective starts, looking away.
"What the hell, Sherlock? You can't just kiss me for an experiment." John yells without warning, anger seeping through his face, the younger man flinches away. He feels used and angry, angry because Sherlock is toying with his emotions. Sherlock only sees him as a way to get data, something to experiment on and become an expert at.
"I know, I- just- it started out like that and then it wasn't.." Sherlock stammers, his eyes downcast, fidgeting.
"What? Wait, what do you mean?" John asks, catching his breath.
"I wanted to kiss you, not because I needed data."
"That's cheating Sherlock." John breathes.
"Fine, I wanted to kiss you," Sherlock yells, his arms flailing, standing up and pacing with the sudden proclamation of emotion. "I've wanted to kiss you for a while and I was just going to touch you and then we feel on the floor and I just couldn't help myself." Sherlock rambles, his movements jerky and nervous.
"Sherlock, nervous?" John thinks to himself.
"So, you wanted to kiss me?" John asks, confusion thick in his voice. The doctor doesn't understand, how could Sherlock keep that big of secret from a telepath.
John is either extremely terrible or Sherlock is just that good.
"Yes." Sherlock says, looking at his hands that fall limply at his sides.
"I'm sorry," Sherlock turns away from John, who is still stilling on the floor, the doctor's back against his chair. The detective sighs and starts to walk out of the room, to escape. John tries to probe his thoughts but the detective is thinking in Italian, yes Italian.
"Wait, since when do you speak Italian?" John calls bluntly, the detective doesn't stop, "Wait! Never mind. I wanted or still want to kiss you. I...it was nice.." Sherlock stops dead in his thoughts and movements. John doesn't regret it. Let's face it, he's been pining over the genius ever since he heard him deduce. The man is adorable, brilliant and surprising. John is surprised it took him this long to realise it.
"You were distracted, it didn't seem like you enjoyed." John can sense the hurt in the thought.
"No, I...you were touching me." John mutters sheepishly.
"That's the point of kissing, John." Sherlock states, "Idiot."
"Obviously, I mean you were touching me and I was immobilised again, I just saw your memories." John says shaking his head.
"I paralyzed you with my kissing." Sherlock asks quizzically, smirking at his feat.
"Shut up, you know what I mean." John huffs. "How?"
"Insufficient data," Sherlock sighs and then a split second smiles manically.
"Sherlock?" John asks, apprehensively.
"I don't know why I can control it, but I would be happy to try more experiments to gather more data." Sherlock states moving closer to John, until his is standing over the doctor.
"Is that nerd talk for something?" John asks chuckling, suddenly shy and nervous of the situation. Sherlock doesn't answer, he kneels in front of John and touches their foreheads together. John closes his eyes as images flash through his brain.
"Are you controlling them?" John asks quietly, watching in awe as Sherlock shows him memories of them together, John can feel the blushing of his cheeks at the images.
"Yes, or at least I'm trying to." Sherlock states, "Are you seeing the day we are in the hallway after we left Angelo's for the first time, the first time you didn't need your cane and we were giggling." The image flashes through his mind, their out of breath laughs echoing throughout the entrance way.
John tilts his head up suddenly and envelops Sherlock in a kiss. Its deep and tender. "I'll take that as a yes." John grips Sherlock's shirt, twisting the material in pleasure. Suddenly, all thoughts stop and John feels their bodies together and they kiss, slow and passionate, John nibbling on Sherlock's lower lip.
"Are you doing that too?" John asks, breaking apart, both of them gasping for breath. Sherlock licks and nibbles along John's neck as he mutters affirmative.
"How?" Sherlock asks as his hands run smooth down John shirt, unbuttoning as he goes, complete mental silence enveloping them.
"Do you really want to worry about that right now?" Sherlock asks, pulling John into another long kiss.
"No." John pants out. Sherlock grabs John by the shirt and pulls him down to the floor again. John squirms to get comfortable.
"Do you want this?" Sherlock asks, his tone nervous, his hand moving slowly down the doctor's body, caressing John's taunt abdomen and playing lightly at the doctor's waistband.
"Oh god yes." John replies, grabbing Sherlock and flipping him over onto his back while the doctor attacks the detective's mouth fiercely. All thoughts silent and the only things he feels are Sherlock and the link, astonishingly, the link only heightens his touches and needs of the younger man.
Sherlock moans under the ministrations of John's tongue.
"John. Bedroom." John grabs Sherlock's shirt and pulls them both towards the bedroom, careful not to break the contact.
I hope that's okay.
Peace&Love