just not quite together

Running away, my dear Holmes?

‘Tom, I appreciate it.. but..’ John sighed, as he and his fellow surgeon Tom Darren were standing before the obscure night club. ‘oh come on John, it will be fun! You keep telling us all about losing your girlfriends because of your arsehole of a flat mate, so me an’ Susie thought let’s give you somethin’!’ John rolled his eyes. ‘I said I want  a nice girl to be with, not a whore.’ Tom sighed. ‘just .. you kno’, try at it ‘ John needed a moment to think. ‘right. Okay.’

Sherlock had a new client today. The bosses only said that he was some guy who never gets laid. Sherlock had laughed, but then he had gotten the warning. That was mostly what meant that you could not get all your money. It meant you needed to be extra careful, that you would not get any pleasure out of it. It meant that your client was straight. It meant your client did not prefer your gender, or just wanted to try it once. It mostly did not work.

‘He’ll be up here in a minute.’ The girl said, while opening the door. John suddenly yelped. ‘he?’ the girl just grinned. John sighed deeply. God damn you Tom. Strangely enough, John did not feel uncomfortable. He laid down on the bed and looked up to the ceiling. He just started to fall asleep when the door creaked. ‘hmm what?’ John asked sleepily. When nothing happened, the door suddenly fell shut again. John sat up. The room was empty except himself. After a minute or so, the girl came back into the room. ‘I’m sorry sir, but your pleasure boy ran away.’ She said, looking at him apologetic.  John groaned loudly.

‘room 3 is áll yours, dear.’ Robert said, faking his fondness of Sherlock. Sherlock looked at him as if he was a second away of murdering Robert. Sherlock undid the top two buttons of his blouse, and loosened his belt a little. Most warning-clients were easily captured if they were attracted to Sherlock.  Sherlock grinned to himself as he picked up a bottle of lube, condoms and a toothbrush. He started walking towards room 3 when Tina emerged from the room. ‘he seems your type. Better hurry, he looks tired.’ She said grinning. ‘just getting the stuff’ Sherlock said and grabbed some more things before entering the room. Next thing Sherlock remembered, he was running.

In a small alleyway Sherlock finally calmed down. It had been John. He was –this- close to being discovered. Sherlock was breathing heavily, and fell down against a trash bin.

‘are you telling me this was John himself?’

‘yes… thank god he did not see me…’

‘I’m sorry Sherlock, I really did not kn-‘

‘I know that. Obviously. You did not know. I can’t go back there. Do you understand?’

‘yes. Alright. I’m going to hang up now, Sherlock. Is that okay?

‘do whatever you damn well please.’

John went home immediately after the incident. He did not even see who was going to ‘treat’ him. Even though he had not wanted to do this at first, he still had a feeling of.. disappointment? Whatever. When John came home he found Sherlock playing the violin. He sat down on the couch and neither one of them said anything. Little did John know about what had just happened. He was not seeing how Sherlock was running through his mind palace, searching for a way to tell John. John thought Sherlock was thinking about a case. (in some way it was a case. The case of John Watson, the man who knew too much, but not enough.)