Sherloki

Dinner

whereismybluescarf:

Suspicious of Sherlock’s admittance to not knowing the reason behind one of Mycroft’s schemes, John attempted to sneak a look at his friend only to find the detective’s eyes still firmly fixed on him. He turned away again, blush deepening as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Watching the scenery for a few moments, John thought about the usual connotations that came with meeting the parents of someone special and realised that his feelings were no different to that of meeting any of his previous girlfriend’s parents. “Is it weird that I really want your family to like me?” John asked softly, glancing at Sherlock out of the corner of his eye.

“No, that’s normal,” Sherlock said with a shrug, his eyes travelling over John’s suit trousers one last time before he looked away out the window. “At least it means you’ll be making an effort, which I’ll appreciate.” He was silent for a moment before saying, “By the way, my parents might ask a few questions which will possibly make you feel uncomfortable. I’d be grateful if you could just answer them truthfully and not think much of them. Mummy loves to be dramatic after all.”

whereismybluescarf:

During the walk downstairs and out to their awaiting taxi and even the climbing into said taxi, John could feel Sherlock’s eyes boring holes through him. “So, explain this to me again, Sherlock,” John mumbled as the detective sat next to him, his face turned away from his friend so that the other man wouldn’t start deducing exactly why there was a light dusting of red spreading across his cheeks. “Why do I have to come to your family dinner? And why the bloody hell was Mycroft so smug on the phone when he invited me?”

 

Sherlock didn’t have to remind the cabbie of their destination and he settled back in his seat, glancing over at John only to have the other man look away. No matter; he instead turned his gaze to John’s suit again, considering all the different ways he could manipulate John into wearing such items of clothing more often. “Mummy wants to meet you,” he said in response to John’s question. “I’ve never had a friend before. As for Mycroft, I have no idea.” He knew exactly why Mycroft had been smug, but he wasn’t about to tell John.

Dinner

whereismybluescarf:

Sighing heavily, John placed his laptop on the floor beside his chair and got to his feet. “The things I do for you, Sherlock Holmes,” he teased as he walked past his friend and stalked up the stairs and into his room. It took him only a few minutes to pick out and change into a suit - it was his only one after all - and then John was back downstairs, walking over to the detective and spreading out his arms. “Right, what do you think? Am I presentable enough for the noble Holmes family?”
 

When John returned to the room, Sherlock’s eyes widened considerably. “That… yes, that will do.” He cleared his throat and gestured for John to head to the door. “There should be a cab waiting for us outside. The sooner we leave the sooner we’ll get there and the less likely it will be that Mummy gets upset.” Sherlock found his eyes still glued to John’s form, admiring the way the suit moved on him.

Sherlock sidled over to John and looked over his shoulder. “Still updating your blog? Hurry up, I want to leave in ten minutes.” He tugged at the cuffs of his shirt and muttered something about how he was putting so much effort into going out when John didn’t seem to care.

wearing-westwood:

wheresmywatson:

Moriarty, I… need your help.

Do you, darling?

I’m not in the mood to be patronised. I need you to get me something without anyone else finding out about it.

Moriarty, I… need your help.