Checkmate

My sister's random 'How about you make a Johnlock pic and I make a story out of it?' was what inspired me to create this cheesy Valentine's Day series (not that I'm complaining) And so without further ado~
 

CHECKMATE

A Valentines Ficlet
Art by: Nofavrell
Fic by: Roughnight


Summary: It’s Valentines Day



A quiet posh, romantic dinner followed by a shag in a candle lit room. There wasn’t really any rule to how the Valentines ought to be spent with your boyfriend. If there was somehow some kind of mechanics, it certainly wouldn’t involve being dragged around to a London crime scene to have a bloody corpse at your feet. It generally wasn’t people’s idea of a date…But then again, most people are dull and not most people have Sherlock Holmes as their boyfriend. Nope. Only John Watson revels at holding the exclusive spot to that. So even when John hears Anderson’s snide whispers to his ears about Sherlock’s insensitivity or sees Donovan’s pitiful glances at having the Freak’s lack of romanticism as company for the very well controversial Heart’s Day, the ex-army doctor doesn’t really give a shit—more so, wasn’t really affected. More the pity at them, truthfully. They can’t possibly know how having Sherlock Holmes in your life meant. It wasn’t a ‘what’ having Sherlock Holmes in your life meant but ‘how’. John had long ago discovered that the English vocabulary couldn’t possibly be enough to describe the exploding, electric, magnanimous, uncontainable wonder of an entity that is Sherlock Holmes; but ‘how’ life changing and ‘how’ utterly brilliant and ‘how’ godly beautiful the man is that he kept surprising John Watson himself every bloody single day, ---those things the doctor can testify for. How could he complain when even as the said Consulting Detective is kneeling on the floor and fumbling at the dead body, John can’t help feeling like they were having a flirty banter during a date as he scolds ‘don’t go poking around the corpse Sherlock and could you please wear gloves’?


Sherlock looks up at him from his crouch, rolls his eyes then eventually flashes a silly grin he tried in vain to repress. John looks down at him with an amused smile and feels the soft flutter of his heart inside his ribs. The air from his lungs was suddenly not enough, sucked off by the spreading warmth. It could very well be a date for the two of them, ignoring the blank stare of the corpse besides Sherlock. It could be Christmas or Valentines and he wouldn’t want to trade places with Anderson or Donovan. The tea was their wine, the crime scene their date place, the Chinese take away their posh dinner and 221B their home. Every day was practically Valentines.


Sherlock eventually gets on his feet and stands beside him as the detective rants off his observations and deductions and multitasks with texting at his mobile. Amidst with getting comfortable at the lull of his boyfriend’s velvety sex voice, John was jolted by the short vibration from his mobile. He fished it out of his jeans pocket only to see that the sender has been no other than yours truly Consulting Detective.


“Sherlock, why would you text me when I’m right next to you?” he asked softly.


His only answer was the firm press of wet lips against his cheeks as Sherlock kissed him and the sudden glass breaking silence that had caught the whole of Scotland Yard. If Anderson and Donovan’s mouths have abruptly dropped to the floor and if the other uniformed men from the MET seemed to have the lights sucked out from the lot of them, John Watson didn't really notice when he himself was busy blushing and staring dumbfounded at the tall, beautiful detective standing in front of him.


“Really, John, it was clumsy of you to forget Valentines Day.” Sherlock drawled as he rolled his eyes at the ceiling then stared fixatedly at the corpse on the floor, avoiding the doctor’s eyes. John suddenly wanted to throw himself at his boyfriend when he recognized the tantalizing blush blooming at the Consulting Detective’s prominent, diamond cutting cheekbones. John would've garbled like a fish out of water at that but fought it by biting his lips and scrolling down at his phone to read the single word contained from his detective’s text.


“Yeah, well,” He started even as the felt more of his blood rush to his face. “You got me. Happy Valentines, too?”


Sherlock’s pale bright eyes suddenly flicked at him and caught his blue ones. They smiled at each other knowingly; their lips twitched in an arc that threatened to reach the sky before they burst giggling and half laughing.


“Okay!” Lestrade’s sharp voice came cutting the silence off the dumbstruck faces. “You two get a proper date and leave the room now!”


“God Sherlock,” John said after the fit has died down, a grin still gracing his face. “We shouldn’t giggle at crime scenes. Not decent.”


“Decent is boring, John.” Sherlock grinned at him, his bright eyes full of mirth. “And we are on a proper date, Greg.” He addressed to the DI, his eyes never leaving John’s.


John could’ve sealed the statement with a kiss but decided he’d much rather do so later at the privacy of their flat so instead, he grabbed the Consulting Detective’s gloved hand and dragged the two of them out of the crime scene. They passed Anderson and Donovan without hearing a breath from them. Whoever said having Sherlock in your life meant there was a lack of romanticism were wrong; maybe they weren’t just looking carefully…or maybe they just weren't John Watson.

I'm actually a big fan of my sister's works and I'm especially in love with this ficlet. You can read more of her works (and that brilliant, BRILLIANT JOHNLOCK fic) HERE (ROUGHNIGHT)


HAPPY HEARTS~~~!!! MAY YOUR DAYS BE FILLED WITH THOUGHTS (and perhaps something more concrete *winks) OF BOYS IN THE EMBRACE OF OTHER BOYS

Much love Roughnight!!!





Last of the Valentine's Day series

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