a lovely date for a murder, don't you agree

[deductivedetective]

Neither of them called it a date. Sherlock may not have been the most socially up-to-speed person, but he knew what this was; what John was asking. He humored him and agreed, not pressing the matter. It wasn't unusual for them to to be together anyway, even before this. In fact, catching them without the other was even more odd.

It wasn't too fancy, anyway. The Chinese place down the street was good, and authentic (according to Sherlock's verification), and reasonably priced for two men sharing money. The atmosphere wasn't romantic, at least. Sherlock imagined the pressure on John would be lessened if just for that reason, even if he didn't understand the big deal.

"Eating in today for once, eh, Sherlock?" the host asked with a polite smile as they entered. "Two, then?"

"Yes, thank you," Sherlock said, looking at John. "Any plans after this, by the way?"

Comments

[deductivedetective]

Sherlock caught it, staring at the paper-wrapped sandwich for a good moment before sighing, beginning to open it. The scent of tomato and basil wafted out. It wasn't entirely unpleasant, at least.

"Fine."

[deductivedoctor]

Satisfied with his small victory, John turned back to Star Trek, taking small bites of his sandwich between the scenes.

"This is pretty far gone from the stuff that aired when I was a kid."

[deductivedetective]

"It is," Sherlock agreed, mid-chew. He wasn't much for telly, no, but he had caught enough Star Trek in his youth to know. He might even have looked up to Spock when he was a child. (Perhaps evidenced by that time he had quoted him.) Young Sherlock certainly couldn't relate to other kids; even then, he was considered different. Only, at the time, he didn't know why.

[deductivedoctor]

"You watched the telly when you were a kid?" John asked, nibbling on the bread of his sandwich. "I pictured you as more the type to sit outside and burn ants with a magnifying glass."

[deductivedetective]

"I didn't burn them, I just observed them," he corrected. "But sometimes. There wasn't much else to do. I didn't exactly play with others. And Mycroft was usually busy with... I don't know, normal, boring things."

[deductivedoctor]

"You two didn't get along back then either, huh?" John shrugged. "Harry and I didn't fight much until we got older."

[deductivedetective]

Sherlock shrugged as well.

"Not exactly. More like he was forced to watch over me," he said, taking another bite of his sandwich. Anyone who's had to watch over Sherlock knew the hassle involved; John surely must have. "Our differences escalated as we got older as well. He began meddling more. Thought he could still tell me what to do. Became rather bothersome."

[deductivedoctor]

John laughed. "Must have been seeing as he's now your archenemy."

[deductivedetective]

He nodded with a slight scowl.

"And unfortunately he's in the position to keep an eye on me at all times, now," he complained. "Mother would certainly be happy about that."

[deductivedoctor]

John would've ventured to ask about Sherlock's mother, but he figured it was best not to dig too far. There seemed to be some old wounds there. Instead he turned back to the movie, which John judged was almost over seeing as the story appeared to be reaching its peak.

By the time the credits rolled he'd finished his sandwich, the wrapper left balled up on the table. John pulled his legs up on the chair, flexing the fingers on his bad arm. Even something as simple as balling his hand into a fist would send a sharp pain up into his shoulder. The gash had made a mess of his nerves.

[deductivedetective]

Sherlock was rather slow with his own meal. Eating was almost a mindless chore when he was doing other idle things, and something he refused to do when working. The only thing he showed outward (if very slight) enjoyment in consuming was tea; and that was simply British.

He uncurled his legs from his chair, watching John flex, his brow wrinkling when John's did in pain.

"Don't push it," he said, standing up. Sherlock set his empty wrapper with the other, his other hand clamping onto John's. He was frowning down at the injured shoulder.

[deductivedoctor]

"It's alright to move it a bit," John laughed, letting his hand fall lax as he glanced up at Sherlock. "Christ, I'm going to have to make sure you're out of the room when I start physical therapy or you'll probably attack the therapist."

[deductivedetective]

"Please," he huffed. Though if Sherlock had seen himself handling Sam... then he might've had some idea of why John was worried. He let his fingers stay curled around his. A thought did cross his mind, though. "Should I sleep in my bed?"

He had a horrible habit of tossing about during the night, and usually waking up with one or more limbs over John.

[deductivedoctor]

"I don't mind either way," John said. "It'll probably be fine. It's not going to move much with this thing on, anyway."

[deductivedetective]

Sherlock just nodded, not selfless enough to convince him out of it.

They still had a bit of evening left to spare, even after the movie. Though it was only just getting dark outside, night blanketing the streets and windows of London, it had been a long day. The previous night hardly granted the two much sleep as it was.

"You can turn in early, if you're tired."

[deductivedoctor]

"You could turn in with me," John suggested, an uncertain smile turning on the corners of his lips.

[deductivedetective]

Sherlock smiled, taking a closer step into John's space.

"Those the sort of lines you use on girls?"

[deductivedoctor]

John left his seat, meeting Sherlock in a short kiss as he stood.

"Sometimes, yeah," he said. "Does it work?"

[deductivedetective]

"Perhaps," said Sherlock, and considering how he sought the contact out again, John could probably read a more definitive answer out of it. He let his hands slide along John's waist carefully, meeting against his spine. Sherlock was even cautious in leaning down so that John didn't have to bend his neck upward and strain his shoulders.

[deductivedoctor]

John's hand rose to Sherlock's shoulder, and spun a few fingers through the fabric there, tipping his head up to meet the kiss. Having his bad arm plastered down in a brace between them made things a little awkward, but John was able to work around it well enough.

"We should probably take this upstairs."

[deductivedetective]

"Probably," he agreed, stepping back and looking down at the brace that peeked from under John's collar. "Gonna need help with that?"

[deductivedoctor]

"A bit," John said, taking a few solid paces back before turning and heading up to his room.

[deductivedetective]

Sherlock was close behind and, not one to waste time, was already undoing the buttons of his shirt to change into pajamas. Fortunately enough, Mycroft had brought the two of them spare clothes while they were at the hospital, else they'd be awfully rank right now. Their previous ones were beyond salvageable, to say the least. (Though Sherlock refused to let him toss out the scarf and his coat, and demanded it be dry cleaned by the best people Mycroft had.)

Upon reaching John's room, Sherlock grabbed John's pajamas off the corner of the bed, drooping them over his shoulder while he started to help himself to pulling up John's shirt by the hem. It occurred to him that the first time the veteran went through a shoulder injury, he probably had a hard time doing this by himself. But knowing John, Sherlock imagined he did it anyway. He met him back when he was a lonely man.

[deductivedoctor]

John's jumper hadn't been as fortunate as Sherlock's coat. It had been a particularly pale shade of yellow and by the end of the night had sponged up more red than he'd like to think about. No amount of dry cleaning would have saved it. It was a shame, really. John liked that jumper.

When Sherlock tugged a thin flannel top around John's shoulder, John made a face. "Sherlock, um, pyjamas can come later."

[deductivedetective]

Sherlock stopped, confused, the shirt wrinkled in a loop around John's shoulder.

"I thought you wanted to sleep."