A Johnlock before christmas

December 11

Thieves beware (part 8)

When they took a cab to the gay bar Sherlock tried to avoid looking at John. He stared intensely out of the window. He wouldn't bother with the strange behaving if his stomach now, they had a case, for god's sake. He had to focus!
But when he had seen John in this clothes, his heart had begun to flutter.
Why did he behave like that?
Why did his transport react in such a way to John's appearance?

"Stop!", he shouted, pulling at his black curls.
"I didn't do anything!", John argued offended.
"Yes you did! You do! You're so...", he waved his hand looking for the right word, "distracting."
John raised his eyebrows. "I'm distracting?"
"Yes", Sherlock answered, pouting.
"And how do I distract you? Am I thinking too loud?", he mocked.
The detective glared at him. "No. It's just the..."

Suddenly he trailed off. A terrible thought had crossed his mind. Normal people were only that much affected by clothes of others when they were attracted to them. Generally all those strange symptoms his body provided were a clear sign for attraction. But certainly he wasn't attracted to John.
Fear ran down his spine. Attraction had to do with emotions. Caring. That wasn't good, no.
Alone protects me. Caring is not an advantage,he thought.

"Sherlock? Are you okay? You look very pale", John asked, concerned over the state his friend had suddenly got in.
To Sherlock's great relieve the cab reached the bar just in this moment. Quickly, he slipped out of the car to avoid answering. John would deal with the paying.

John sighed when Sherlock left him behind in the car. Quickly he gave the cabby some pounds and followed his flatmate outside. A frosty wind blew through his hair and he shivered slightly. Maybe the leather jacket had been a bit too thin for December. But it had definitely been worth it. That look on Sherlock's face, utterly stunned! The pickpocket chuckled as he approached him. The tall man was leaning at a wall, waiting for him so that they could enter the bar which was in the next block. His face looked like it was made out of stone. John couldn't identify any emotion on it. At last he's back to his usual, he thought.

"Take your time, John. It isn't as if we had a murderer to catch", Sherlock grumbled impatiently.
John just smirked. "Since when are you waiting for me and not running off like mad anyway?", he teased, now standing just two steps away. Sherlock rolled his eyes.
"We're supposed to play a couple. It really wouldn't be convincing if I appeared without you. So, come on now", he ordered, suddenly invading John's personal space. He took the shorter man's hand and interlaced their fingers.

John couldn't do anything else for a moment than staring down at their fingers and then back to Sherlock who was the one smirking now. But he didn't pull away when the detective led them into the direction of the pub.

As the large neon-sign came into sight, Sherlock leaned down to his ear and purred: "Ready sweetheart?"
And with a shiver running down his spine which he successfully ignored he grinned up at him. "Of course honey."

AN: Oh I am so proud of this chapter! Hope you enjoy it as much as I do ;) 
Sorry again for posting this so late... This time of the year is just utterly stressful... 
Anyway, I don't own anything.

Thank you all so much for reading this! Special thanks to the ones who followed this story and/or faved it. And thanks for the lovely reviews! It is very motivating for me! 

Merry Christmas, 
~ Allie