(OMEGLE, WHY WON'T YOU GIVE ME A LOG, GODDAMNIT. I JUST WANT A GODDAMN CHAT LOG. SGIJGIAKSKDKFDGARIGMB.)
You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!
You and the stranger both like sherlock.
You: Sherlock, why are there teeth in the milk? I just bought it! -JW
Stranger: I don't see how when you bought the milk is relevant to finding teeth in it.-SH
You: I barely got to use any! -JW
Stranger: You seem upset.-SH
Stranger: Don't be. The teeth were sterilized beforehand. The milk is perfectly fine.-SH
You: Obviously, first you refuse to get the milk and then you put /teeth/ in it. -JW
You: There are still teeth in it! I can't have teeth in my cereal! -JW
Stranger: Then don't have cereal. -SH
Stranger: Honestly, John. I don't have time to solve all your problems for you.-SH
You: But I /want/ cereal. You just removed an option from my life without asking me about it first. You do this all the time! I'm fed up with it! -JW
You: (whenever I write angry John I imagine a hedgehog flailing around and doing that hissy-spit thing they do and I can' be serious anymore.)
Stranger: (Oh god, now you've just ruined it for me. I'll never be able to play John again XD)
You: (You're welcome XD)
Stranger: (*shakes fist*)
Stranger: It's just sustenance. I can think of at least five other food items in the flat that will be just as sufficient.-SH
You: But it's the principle of the thing, like I just said! God, Sherlock, you can be so clueless sometimes. -JW
Stranger: I am not clueless.-SH
You: Yes, you are. You're absolutely clueless about feelings. -JW
Stranger: I understand feelings. You are upset because your can't eat your preferred breakfast food. Just because I understand doesn't mean I can't think it's ridiculous, as I've already pointed out there are other options.-SH
You: I'm not upset because of the goddamn cereal, I'm upset because you do things like this /all the time/ and you never tell me /anything./ You constantly disregard my feelings and opinions and it's just not OK. -JW
You: (Jesus, John, just eat some toast XD)
Stranger: (what a diva, seriously XD)
Stranger: Your opinions about cereal have been duly noted, then. Is that better?-SH
You: (But wait, WHAT IF HE WANTS MILK TOAST)
You: No it is not bloody better. Can't you stop being a smartass for two seconds? -JW
Stranger: (w-what is MILK TOAST? As lifelong fan of breakfast, I am intrigued)
You: (You take a bowl of warm milk and put toast in it. There's also butter and cinnamon and stuff, at least in my experiences, but everyone does it differently. It's pretty damn delicious.)
Stranger: I'm not intending to be a smart ass. I don't tell you anything because you have no interest in the majority of my experiments. Though I'm sure you would find my research on tobacco ash fascinating if you gave it a chance.-SH
Stranger: (is that a British thing? I'm American and I've never heard of it)
You: Um. No, I can't say I would be interested at all. The least you could do is tell me about things that would effect my life, especially when you decide to mess with the stuff I BUY. -JW
You: (Nah, it's a Southern thing.)
You: (Shit, my Internet is going 'splode. I might disappear any minute D:)
Stranger: (I'm a Yank, so that would explain it)
Stranger: (oh no D: Did you want my tumblr or something?)
You: (Sure, that'd be cool... I'm exterminatecake)
Stranger: (I'm yellowsneakercult)
Stranger: (should we keep going until you disappear in a fiery ball of internet wreckage?)
You: (sounds good. And much more dramatic than what usually happens, which is that my browser stabs me in the back and then maces me.)
Stranger: (sounds like a case for Sherlock & Co.)
You: ("What's that on her Internet history?" "Don't look, John-" "OH MY GOD WHAT IS THIS HORROR")
Stranger: You're being awfully dramatic, John. This is hardly a life altering event.-SH
Stranger: (Lestrade would be creeping in the background like "yeah, gotta reblog that when I get home")
You: I just want to make a point! Besides, you do this with bigger things, too. You've even lied to me about things that effect /me./ -JW
You: (OH GOD LAUGHING SO HARD)
You: (no idea what I was referencing with the lying thing, by the way -in denial about Reichenbach-)
Stranger: John, I thought we had put that whole Baskerville case behind us. The drugs were in a perfectly controlled environment.-SH
You: But you were completely dismissing my personhood! Treating me like I'm just... some sort of /experiment./ -JW
You: (OH NO, MY BROWSER IS SHARPENING ITS KNIFE)
Stranger: (RUN RUN RUN)
You: (SOMEONE SAVE MEEEE)
Stranger: John, you are not some sort of experiment to me.-SH
You: Yes, well, sometimes I doubt that. -JW
Stranger: I chose you because I trusted you. I couldn't just lock anybody up down there. I trusted that you would forgive me.-SH
You: (oh my god feels. you. the feels. aagghh.)
Stranger: (you've found me out. I am really Moftiss)
You: (*grabs you by the lapels* HOW DID HE SURVIVE. TELL ME.)
Stranger: (mwahaha I'll never reveal my secrets)
You: John looked down at the phone in his hand, wide-eyed. That was quite honestly the most emotion he had ever seen Sherlock express, ever. "... He can't really mean that," he muttered to himself, trying to work out a reply. But really, what could John say to that?
You: (lol I'm too lazy to work out a new text)
You: (TOO LATE, I KNOW HOW HE SURVIVED. HE SANG "I BELIEVE I CAN FLY," DIDN'T HE.)
Stranger: Sherlock glanced down at his phone, twiddling it a bit when there was no answer. Maybe this time he'd gone too far. Said something wrong. He couldn't imagine what (the teeth -had- been cleaned beforehand), but, as much as he hated to admit it, he'd been known to misjudge these kind of situations. Was John angry? Was he going to leave? No, John couldn't leave. He wouldn't allow it. Sherlock stuck out his hand, hailing the next cab that passed. "221 Baker Street" he instructed the driver.
Stranger: (Oh god, I really should not be laughing at that video)
You: John rubbed his temples, sighing. Knowing Sherlock, he probably wouldn't even notice if he didn't reply... Honestly, this was the man who didn't notice when John left the flat for /three hours./
He started when he heard the door slam and footsteps hurry up the stairs. "You're back early," he noted.
You: (It is honestly the best video that anyone has ever made in the entire history of videos.)
Stranger: (I imagined it was just a blowup doll with a wig that Sherlock threw off the building. John was too disorientated by ASSAULTING BIKE RIDER MAN to notice, and everyone else were paid actors. The end!)
You: (I noticed that the ASSAULTING BIKE RIDER MAN had the same beanie as that dude who stole the memory stick in The Great Game. COINCIDENCE?! I THINK NOT!)
Stranger: (That's a good observation, actually! I'm almost more interested in knowing who helped Sherlock out and why than how he did it.)
You: (Hooray! I'm smart! But yes, I'd like to know if that was pure accident or not... I'm still rooting for my own personal theory, which is that ASSAULTING BIKE RIDER MAN injected John with some form of the HOUND drug, which caused him to project his worst fear at the moment (Sherlock dying) onto a dummy. Sherlock jumped into the bags on the garbage truck and Molly provided the dummy. CASE CLOSED.)
Stranger: "You're here." Sherlock stated, simply, after entering the flat. He supposed what he was feeling now was relief. Maybe he could still convince John to stay. "I have milk..." He held up a small plastic bag.
Stranger: (the HOUND drug is something I haven't heard before. It would make sense since they saw what they expected to see. I think Sherlock would have used an actual body from the morgue, though)
You: John smiled in surprise. "Obviously I'm here, why would I be?" He took the milk from Sherlock and turned to go to the kitchen, but lingered slightly. "Um... Sherlock? ... Thank you."
You: (Yeah, an actual body would make much more sense... I hate the people who say that it was JUST a dummy, because John touched the body. Dummies feel very different than bodies. Very.)
Stranger: Sherlock knit his brows in confusion. "You're not mad, then? I thought you might have... well... gone." Why couldn't people just react the way he expected them to? It would make his life so much easier.
You: "What? No... why would I leave?" John frowned, pouring the milk into his bowl of cereal. "There's no reason for me to... I don't have a date or anything today."
Stranger: (If it had been a dummy then everyone on the street would have had to have been in on the plan, since they wouldn't have the drug. That just seems like a lot of people for Sherlock to trust, and he couldn't keep strangers from walking by)
Stranger: "Oh. You just, um, stopped texting and I thought..." Sherlock was starting to feel embarrassed by his overreaction, which was also a feeling he was unaccustomed to. "Never mind." he finished, joining John in the kitchen. "You're welcome for the milk."
You: (That's true, too. An actual body would work way better, since people would just assume it's a run-of-the-mill suicide (pffft, that sounds horrible). Then, when they found out through the papers, they would probably assume that the body was Sherlock's and so their memories would be affected. And the sniper would still see him fall if he jumped into the truck or something... Or maybe, as Gatiss pointed out EVER SO TACTFULLY, Sherlock at the grave was a ghost D:)
Stranger: (Nooo, don't say that. Ghost Sherlock following John around for all of season 3 would be horrible. The entire fandom would drown in their tears)
You: "Thought what?" John asked, crunching on a bite of cereal. "You mean... Oh, /Sherlock./ You mean, move out?" John swallowed and sighed. "I'd never move out over something like that. Take it easy."
He fished a Sharpie out of his pocket, uncapped it with his teeth, and wrote "JOHN'S MILK" on the new carton. Then he took the other carton out of the fridge and wrote "EXPERIMENTS" on it. "There, now we don't need to fight over it anymore."
You: (ohgod I read this horrible post where someone theorized that John would think Sherlock is a hallucination for a long time, until they went on a case and someone would speak to Sherlock and John would go white and say "You can see him too?" Sorry, your depressing comment reminded me of that and now I feel the need to make you share my pain.)
Stranger: Sherlock bristled at the 'take it easy' comment. It wasn't his fault that John was acting completely against his expectations. It was annoying him that he couldn't read the situation like he was so easily accustomed to doing. "Yes, good. Bravo. You're a right genius, John."
Stranger: (Oh no. Why can't someone just post a theory that John and Sherlock reunite by running in slow motion into a hug through a field of flowers and living happily ever after? Sometimes I think we're meaner to them than the creators, haha)
You: "Fine, be like that," John snapped and roughly slammed the fridge door, then strode out of the kitchen.
You: (and through a magic plothole, the milk had teleported back into the fridge.)
You: (Better yet, they should reunite in a field of flowers /and/ kittens. And then someone kills Moffat and Sherlock deduces that it was a fangirl AND THEN THE SHOW IS OVER AND THEY ONLY HAVE HAPPY CASE SOLVING TIMES FOR ALL OF ETERNITY. Yes, new headcanon.)
Stranger: So then John was mad, then? Sherlock smirked, relieved that he was right after all. But, then, he said he wouldn't move out over something like the teeth incident. This could be something new. "John." Sherlock called, following the man out of the room. "John I need to clarify something with you."
You: "What?" he snapped, whirling on the taller man angrily. "And quit smirking, you smug bastard," he added.
Stranger: (can we just keep Moffat in a sleep chamber and let him out for short periods of time to produce new Doctor Who episodes though? Like, the moment he starts writing 'dies' after a character's name we'll just knock him out again)
You: (Yeah, we can train him. Like a dog. Except for Rory, we need to keep up the "Rory-dying-once-a-month" tradition, after all.)
Stranger: Sherlock's face fell at the insult. "I just wanted to know what would make you consider moving out." he said, defensively.
Stranger: (As long as he comes back. Poor bb ;~;)
You: John paused and bit off an angry retort, staring at Sherlock. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, not entirely sure how he was supposed to feel by now. "... Nothing short of your death," he finally replied.
You: (John has caught the disease common in Wholockians, known as "WHAT ARE MY FEELINGS SUPPOSED TO BE DOING IFJIEJERKAIRIJTTWESD-itis.")
Stranger: Sherlock sighed. "John, I'm asking you a serious question. Don't be a, as you would say, 'smart ass'."
Stranger: (He's been watching too much Doctor Who. They've created MOFFATCEPTION and now the universe is imploding with FEELS)
You: "I'm not," he muttered and coughed awkwardly, fiddling with his spoon. "Uhm. Yeah."
You: (oh my god speaking of Wholock: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iae-kvXu0k8
I just found this cure for ALL FEELS, EVER)
Stranger: Sherlock blinked, processing this new information. "Oh." He desperately hoped he wasn't misreading the situation again. "Then... that's good. Because I wouldn't let you, otherwise."
You: John smiled slightly. "What would you do, tie me up in the closet?" he teased, then abruptly became serious again. "Uh... you wouldn't leave me, either... right?"
You: (oh shit I just realized how depressing that sentence is if this is pre-Reichenbach)
Stranger: "I was thinking of something along the lines of sabotaging every flatshare agreement you tried to enter into, but, um, that would work, too." He shifted his weight from foot to foot. The mental image he'd just had was more than a little inappropriate, and he was trying not to let it show. "Leave you?" he scoffed. "John, where else would I go?"
You: (Sherlock's being naauuughtyyy //shotforbeingimmature)
Stranger: (but he comes back! YOU COME BACK, YOU BASTARD! *punches Sherlock8)
You: John tilted his head. "Don't know. Somehow, I can't imagine you as homeless... you could always stay with your brother," he grinned, beginning to take on a teasing tone of voice again.
You: (*joins you in punching him*)
Stranger: The expression of disgust Sherlock makes is almost comical. "John, please, don't even joke about that."
You: "Oh, fine. So... um..." John sighed and decided he had better just get it over with. "Are we good now?"
Stranger: Sherlock nods, smiling slightly. "Yes, I suppose we are." He steps forward, as if to walk past John, but leans down at the last second to say in a low voice. "But, just in case you change your mind, remember that I am very good at tying knots." He means it as a joke. Kind of.
Stranger: (Yeah idk I guess my Sherlock is a serial kidnapper stalker now. WHELP)
You: John went white, then pink, then turned bright red. "Ahum. What... ah... yeah. OK. Well. Um." He coughed awkwardly again. "Erm. I'll... uh... be in my room... um... watching TV. Uh. Right. Um. No more teeth in my milk. Please. Uh." And with that, he turned on his heel and went into his room, blushing profusely.
You: (And my John is a color-changing, flailing hedgehog.)
Stranger: (Sherlock S3 E2 Silence of the Hedgehogs)
You: (Oh my God I can't-)
Stranger: (Hello, Jawn)
Stranger: (I just imagined fandom in that creepy hole and Moffat leaning over the side being like "it places the fanfiction in the basket or else it gets the FEELS again")
You: (DYING. DYING. DYING. YOU'RE KILLING ME.)
Stranger: "John?" Sherlock watched him go, wondering at the man's sudden change in complexion and departure. Had he actually cleaned those teeth? He'd been telling John that to placate the man, but, truthfully, he didn't actually remember. Maybe he had made John ill. Sherlock, brought the abandoned bowl to the kitchen sink and then made his way upstairs, knocking on John's door. "John, you don't have a TV in you're room."
You: "I have a laptop. I downloaded Doctor Who on it. It's better than a TV," John called from behind his door. "What do you want?"
You: (I couldn't resist XD)
You: (Also, your SociallyClueless!Sherlock is the most adorable thing <3)
Stranger: "Oh. Right." Well, that was good. He'd keep an eye on him for the next 24 hours, just in case, but maybe he wouldn't have to tell John about the teeth after all. "Nothing." Actually, after the scare of almost loosing John (in his mind, anyway), he was feeling a bit... well, he wasn't sure. But he didn't want to be downstairs if John was up here. "Who's Doctor Hoo?" he asked.
You: (He's a Time Owl XD)
Stranger: (aha, thanks. I like how the BBC series magnified his social awkwardness, so that's how I always think of Benny's Sherlock now)
You: "Are you kidding?" John asked and abruptly opened the door. "It's only the most amazing TV show on the BBC. You might even like it, the person who writes it is really clever..." He pulled Sherlock in and opened the laptop. "You're watching it. Now."
Stranger: "He's not a real person, then?" Sherlock was surprised that John was showing enough enthusiasm to, literally, drag him through the door. "He can't be /that/ clever..." he said, incredulously, as he sat down on the bed.
You: (ohmygod I have been waiting all my life to write Whovian John and I NEVER EVEN KNEW IT)
Stranger: (I'm clever too, Jawn. I could write Doctor Who, Jawn.)
You: (... If Sherlock wrote Doctor Who, everyone in the world would be pissed.
Stranger: (I bet Whovian John sleeps with a sonic screwdriver under his pillow)
You: John tapped a few keys on his laptop, agonizingly slowly. "Yeah, it's really amazing. He's extremely clever. Well, the current writer is, the one before this one was just a little over average..." He typed something else, again with agonizing slowness. "Um... sorry... I'm having a hard time finding it..."
You: "Oh yeah, and I think you'll like the villain for season 3 and... um, I think it's 4... He acts a lot like Moriarty." John frowned. "No... how did I get to my documents? I just want iTunes! iTunes! Not my documents!"
Stranger: "Mhm~" Sherlock nodded, though he was feeling a bit odd that phrases John usually reserved for praising him were being wasted on a television show. Sort of... possessively annoyed, if he had to describe it. "John, really. You're hopeless." he sighed, nudging the other man out of the way and double clicking on a desktop icon.
Stranger: (and then up pops John's secret folder of pictures he took of sleeping Sherlock!)
Stranger: (and gay porn)
You: "... Oh. Um. Thanks." He took the laptop back and double-clicked on an episode called Blink.
You: (oh my god dying yes)
You: (twenty minutes later Sherlock was traumatised for life and refused to go anywhere near a graveyard)
Stranger: Despite his previous misgivings, Sherlock was so engrossed in the show that he didn't even notice he was leaning forward intently, pressing his leg against John's thigh and rubbing their shoulders together.
Stranger: (THIS EPISODE! I LIKE IT! ANOTHER! *smashes laptop*)
You: (also, his deduction for every crime was from then on "The Angels did it." OK, I'll stop now *slinks off under a rock*)
Stranger: (Haha. He'd put long ginger wigs on John and start calling him Amy at crime scenes)
You: John was becoming increasingly aware of Sherlock's current... personal-space issue. Unsure of what to do, he sort of awkwardly leaned a bit so that Sherlock wasn't /quite/ sitting in his lap... although he was getting close... damn it, why didn't he just give the laptop to Sherlock and send him to watch it on his own?
You: (He'd keep checking Moriarty for pocket watches and freak out every time someone started drumming a four beat rythm. And he'd start wearing bow-ties.)
Stranger: When the screen finally went blank, Sherlock turned his head towards John to voice his opinion. Only then did he realize how close they'd gotten. He quickly straightened up and scooted back, trying to keep his face from reddening. "Uh.. thank you. I enjoyed that."
You: John blushed, somehow feeling colder now that Sherlock had moved away... /Stupid, you didn't want him there in the first place,/ he scolded himself. "Um... Glad you did. I, uh, haven't actually ever seen you watch TV before... so I wasn't sure... but I'm glad you liked that."
Stranger: Sherlock nodded. "I don't, usually. But this was clever. Just a bit."
You: "A /bit?/ Oh, come on, Sherlock, it's bloody brilliant!" John sighed and leaned against his pillow, then abruptly cursed. "Forgot that was under there..." he muttered, fishing around and retrieving a long, thin, green-and-silver device, which he tossed in the direction of his closet. "Anyway... No, it's not 'just a bit' clever."
Stranger: "Yes, it is 'just a bit' clever!" There they were, those feelings again. "There are lots of things far cleverer than a bloody television show." Sherlock's eyes follow the object as it skids into the open closet. "What was that?"
Stranger: (cleverer? more clever? XD)
You: "Sonic screwdriver. It's a thing from the show, you'll see." John frowned. "Anyway, yes there are things more clever, but you should at least get more backstory before you start /deciding/ things!"
You: (more cleverers is what I say XD)
Stranger: (works for me lol)
Stranger: "Good. I'm glad you recognize that more clever things exist. Because they do." Sherlock hops off the bed and retrieves the screwdriver. "It's a toy." he said, after making it light up a few times.
You: "Yes, it's a toy. They can't exactly make real sonic technology where we are now." John began digging around in a box beside the bed. "... I have another one somewhere... the Tenth Doctor's... you can write in invisible ink with that one."
You: (And so we go from flailing angry John, to sad John, to sexual tension John, to nerd John. Me gusta.)
Stranger: (it's a smorgasbord of Johns.)
You: (It's Johntastic! //bricked)
Stranger: (All you can John for one low price! //dodges rotten veggies)
You: (Heheh... DEAR GOD IT'S 3 AM.)
Stranger: (S-so it is...)
You: (... do we give a shit?)
Stranger: (... I'm not exactly sure XD)
You: (... let's just say no because I like things.)
Stranger: (... okay. I could stand to stay up and get some more work done anyway)
Stranger: "Yes, John, I'm well aware of that." Sherlock said, sarcastically. He flipped the device around in his hand. "You have... two?" He gave John a bemused look.
You: "Yes, is there a problem with that?" John finally found it and held it up triumphantly. "Aha!"
You: (I almost wrote "triumelephantly.")
Stranger: Sherlock pointed the screwdriver at John and pressed the button. "So, can this magic screwdriver cure nerd-dom?"
You: "Oi!" John threw a pillow at Sherlock, hitting him squarely in the head. "I am /not/ a nerd!"
Stranger: "Oof!" Sherlock was too busy eyeing the toy in his hand to see the pillow coming. "John Watson, you have a collection of magic screwdrivers." He bent down and pick up the pillow. "I deduce that you are, officially, a nerd." With that, he tossed the pillow back, a little harder than it had been delivered to him.
You: "Ow!" John yelped as the pillow hit him in the chest. "They're not /magic/, they're /sonic/," he retorted, throwing the pillow back at Sherlock. "And fine, I might be a /little/ bit of a nerd."
You: (I deduce that a fluffy pillowfight is approaching!)
Stranger: (afterwards they can braid each other's hair and prank call the boys they like)
You: (but you can't prank call someone who's in the same room as you //dodges tomatoes)
Stranger: Sherlock is expecting it this time, and dodges the incoming projectile. He picks it up and stalks closer to the bed, keeping his eyes on John. "Magic. Sonic. It doesn't matter."
Stranger: (their own cell phones would ring and it would be awkward until makeouts :D)
You: John leans back a bit, wary of Sherlock's expression. "Yes, it does. Sonic means sound and it is /technically/ feasible... someday... get away from me with that pillow."
Stranger: Sherlock puts on his most innocent expression. "This pillow? All I'm doing is returning it to you." He then hits John in the chest, wearing a wicked grin on his face. It might have been a little harder than necessary, but he knows the former army doctor can handle it.
You: "Ow! Really? Again?" John groans, clutching his chest. "Honestly, you hit way too hard... OK, that's it." John grabbed a pillow from the bed, stood up, and promptly began attempting to beat Sherlock around the head with it.
Stranger: Sherlock rolls his eyes. "You got shot, I think you can mmph~" The rest of his reply is cut short when the pillow hits him square in the face. He brings his own up, trying to block John's sudden onslaught.
You: (dear lord, I know I've stayed up too late when the idea of a pillow fight between these two with John as Godzilla and Sherlock as Mothra /actually occurs to me./ because really, what the fuck.)
You: "Yes, I got shot, and it was painful, but mmpph~!" John flails around as Sherlock manages to half-smother him with a pillow. "Air! Need it!" he tried to call out, but it came out more like "Mairmph! Nhp it!"
You: (what is this tense you speak of)
Stranger: (oh lord, i always get them mixed up when i rp. probably because i'm usually doing 1000 other things at the same time XD)
Stranger: Sherlock pulls the pillow away from John's face, sensing that something might be wrong, and instead whacks John in the stomach, attempting to push him over onto the bed. He can't help it, he's always had a bit of a competitive nature.
You: "Oh, shi-" John's curse is cut off as he topples onto the bed, his breath knocked out of him. "You... bloody... git..."
Stranger: Sherlock smirks as he leans over him, holding John down with the pillow. "Tell me I'm more clever than Doctor Who."
You: "What-you really are an arrogant git!" John yelled, struggling to get up. "Let me up!"
Stranger: "No." Sherlock leaned in further. He put more weight on his hands, holding each end of the pillow down next to John's sides.
You: "Uhm..." John suddenly noticed how /close/ Sherlock was. "... Please?" he asked, trying not to blush.
You: (John the Amazing Color-Changing Hedgie returns in a brand-new act!)
Stranger: Sherlock shook his head. "Say it."
You: "But you're not! I would be disrespecting my fandom!"
Stranger: Sherlock could feel the pangs of (what he would definitely not admit was) jealousy, again. "Yes I am! And what the hell is a fandom?"
You: John sighed exasperatedly. "It's... um... sort off..." He was finding it rather hard to think with Sherlock's face so close to his own... "um... The fan community of a show, book, movie, or person. Sort of. Uh."
Stranger: "And you prefer them to me?" Sherlock can't help but keep the spite out his voice.
You: "Uhm... I was just saying... well... the show is pretty clever... I'd say you're... uh... equal in cleverness? But... um... I like you better..." John felt vaguely that he had said something wrong, he just wasn't sure what... And Sherlock was /really/ not helping. If he could just get off...
Stranger: "Hmm." By this point, Sherlock was practically lying on top of the other man. He was staring John in the eyes, making sure that everything he said was true. "No, we are not equal in cleverness. Don't insult me, John."
You: "Uh... well, if you count the show as a whole..." God, Sherlock was distracting. He could just bring his head up and inch and they would-/Nopenopenopenopenope, focus on words, John, focus on words.../ "... And there was a sandwich..." Wait, what was he saying again? "Um... I mean..."
Stranger: (sherlock's all 'there will be time for sexual tension on my end later. my reputation is at risk!' XD)
You: (XD ohgod he would actually do that, too)
Stranger: Sherlock raised an eyebrow at the sandwich comment. What was John trying to imply? Had there been an incident with a sandwich recently? He couldn't remember. "Unless you tell me, I'm not moving. /Ever/." Despite their ridiculous position, he managed to say it in a threatening tone.
You: "Um..." John had the fleeting thought that that might not be too bad, then he squashed it. "You're... a little bit more clever than Doctor Who?" /That was what I'm supposed to say, right? ... cheekbones.../
Stranger: Sherlock frowned, not quite sure if it was good enough. "And you like me better than magic screwdrivers and fandom, right?"
You: "Um... yes?" ... god, those eyes... could eyeballs actually have that many colors? Maybe Sherlock wore contacts... No, wait, focus on the words... "Uh."
You: (I've often wondered how it's possible that Cumberbatch's eyes have so many colors. I think there's... blue, and green, and brown, and I saw yellow once...)
Stranger: "Is that a question or a statement, John?" He wouldn't ever admit it, but he was finding having John cornered like this to be a little, well, fun.
You: "Um... yes," he murmured, not paying any real attention by now.
Stranger: (Ugggh, those are the eyes of a life ruiner, for sure. I'm less surprised by the variety of colors than by how inconsistent they are.)
Stranger: Sherlock frowned. How could John not be paying attention to him right now? "John! Question or statement?"
You: "Ah! What?" John blinked and started, trying to process the information. "... Um... Statement?" he vetured, crossing his fingers. /You idiot, quit getting lost in his eyes,/ he scolded himself.
Stranger: Something was off. John was distracted. Why? What else could possibly be holding his attention right now? Sherlock's jealousy and annoyance at the mysterious attention grabber took over, and he did the most uncharacteristic thing he could think of. He leaned down and pressed their lips together, in an effort to shock John back into looking at him. "Pay attention to me when I speak to you." he murmured, after breaking away.
You: John blinked.
He blinked again.
He blinked a third time.
"... What was /that?/"
You: John stared at Sherlock as thoughts raced through his head. /That was nice... not gay? but that was nice... why did he do that? does he... nah... he's Sherlock, for God's sake... did I ask him a question? ... I think I did.../
Stranger: Sherlock grit his teeth in frustration. "I said, pay attention to me when I'm speaking!" He leaned in again, kissing John a bit harder. He was Sherlock Holmes, dammit. He was brilliant enough that he shouldn't have to compete with anything else for attention.
You: (Oh, Sherlock, you adorable little clueless man.)
You: Abandoning all pretense of rational thought, John somehow decided it would be a good idea to kiss him back.
/God, that's amazing. Why didn't I do this before?/
Stranger: Sherlock is surprised enough when John starts returning his affections that he almost pulls back. He continues, though, after realizing it as a sign that John's eyes are finally trained on him. Well, Sherlock thinks they are. His own eyes have closed at one point, as he slowly sucks on John's lower lip. He had to make sure John wasn't going to get distracted the moment they stopped. Also, it felt really, really good.
Stranger: (Oh my god, I hear birds chirping. That can't be right. I wasn't intending to stay up this late. XD)
You: (It's raining here, so I can't actually tell XD)
Stranger: (It was raining for the past couple of weeks. Now the weather is finally nice and I'm going to spend all day sleeping haha)
You: (Pssh, lucky. Today marks the start of a rainy weekend for us D:)
Stranger: (believe me, we earned our sunny days)
You: John used Sherlock's moment of distraction to worm his arms out from under the pillow, then slowly slipped one hand onto Sherlock's back, the other onto the back of his head. He let out a small sigh of pleasure, relaxing into the bed. When he finally had to come up for air, John whispered; "... Yeah, you're more clever than Doctor Who."
You: (we're actually the city with the worst weather in the United States D: worse than Seattle. It sucks.)
Stranger: (That sucks. D: Our weather ranges from bitterly cold in the winter to disgustingly hot in the summer, but we do have nice days in between. No real rainy season.)
You: (The entire year is our rainy season. Also, the summers only ever get up to 90, /maybe/ on a good day.)
Stranger: Sherlock pressed his lips to John's jawline and smiles against his skin, planting a couple more kisses before lifting his head again. "Correct."
Stranger: (omg, I think I need to sleep. I can't stay awake.)
You: (yes, sleep. Sleep is good. I should probably do that, too.)
You: (Do you mind if I put this on Tumblr?)
Stranger: (aha, I guess not. XD)
You: (Welp. See you around, then.)