One shots (johnlock fluff mostly)

Believer

So this is for cipherrehpic who made a request in one of my older oneshots (battered and bruised) so here's what I have for you :'> -Vania

As of recently, Sherlock had begun training slightly away from Tchaikovsky, Bach and famous musicians such as csardas and upon hearing songs on the radio that John would tap his head to and sing the words alongside in his low soft tone he decided to practice them.

It was different, the subtle change in music, from long drawn out noted of Tchaikovsky op 20 swan lake to the plucking strings of bohemian rhapsody was a interesting, if not welcome change.

So one night, when John sat in his chair and when Sherlock aimlessly plucked at strings in the window before deciding on a song John listened with half of his attention, the other half concentrating on drinking tea and turning the page of his book without causing a spillage.

Quick smooth notes filled the flat and John, unconsciously began muttering the words under his breath.

First things first
I'ma say all the words inside my head
I'm fired up and tired of the way that things have been, oh ooh
The way that things have been, oh ooh
Second thing
Second, don't you tell me what you think that I can be
I'm the one at the sail, I'm the master of my sea, oh ooh
The master of my sea, oh ooh

John was becoming a bit clearer now and finishing off his tea his voice was smoother compared to the rasp it was becoming after a day at the clinic.

I was broken from a young age
Taking my sulking to the masses
Write down my poems for the few
That looked at me took to me, shook to me, feeling me

John smiled to himself at this point, the song reminded him of Sherlock and then he grimaced, something telling him this wasn't a good thing.

Singing from heart ache from the pain
Take up my message from the veins
Speaking my lesson from the brain
Seeing the beauty through the

John set the book closed and using a ph tester as a bookmark put it on the side table next to his chair and put all his focus on Sherlock who was swaying by the window. His fingers flying over the fingerboard and his right bicep never once leaving position from his side as his wrist curved with each bow. Vibrato barely noticed other than the brilliant sound it reverberated through the room.

You made me a, you made me a believer, believer
(Pain, pain)
You break me down, you build me up, believer, believer
(Pain)
I let the bullets fly, oh let them rain
My life, my love, my drive, it came from
(Pain)
You made me a, you made me a believer, believer

Singing clearly now and sherlocks only slightly noticeably hitching on the strings as he heard John approach from behind before continuing to ignore his presence in a way that was only ever described as Sherlock he continued to play.

Third things third
Send a prayer to the ones up above
All the hate that you've heard has turned your spirit to a dove, oh ooh
Your spirit up above, oh ooh

Stepping up to the window, just out of reach from sherlocks gliding elbow, he looked down at the street as it began to snow lightly, slightly clinging to the windowsill where Sherlock swayed.

I was choking in the crowd
Living my brain up in the cloud
Falling like ashes to the ground
Hoping my feelings, they would drown
But they never did, ever lived, ebbing and flowing
Inhibited, limited
'Til it broke up and it rained down
It rained down, like