A Touch Of Cancer [Johnlock fanfic] On Hiatus!

Chapter 1 » Sherlock Holmes? Late? Duh!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the original characters. Credit goes to the BBC for the mordern-day version and the actors while the characters and original storyline and characters go to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

Okay I'm gonna go out on a limb and say there are a few Johnlock fans on Wattpad and possibly Mystrade. If I'm wrong then I'm wrong but I'm definatley a Johnlock fan. Anyway, I hope you read this and enjoy it. Please comment, thank you!

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"SHERLOCK! We have to get to Gatwick!" John called from the front door. He stood patiently yet irritated. How could Sherlock be so smart yet never be on time for a simple appointment? He sighed and leaned against the door, admiring Mrs. Hudson's new photo frame. John loved Sherlock, but at times he could be a real pain in the arse. Time ticked on, the minute hand gradually moved clockwise as John waited. After about half an hour of waiting, footsteps could be heard along with the annoyed thuds of a suitcase being pulled down the stairs. John looked up thinking it was Sherlock. He opened his mouth to scowl at his boyfriend when something stopped him. It was the sight of Mrs. Hudson. Her curly silvery-blonde hair ruffled with the curlers still attached. She must have just woken up. The doctor thought to himself. Stepping forward, leaving his own suitcase by the door, he reached towards the landlady and took Sherlock's case from an unhappy Mrs. Hudson. As he removed the case from the woman's hand, John place it down by his own and turned back to face Mrs. Hudson.  

"Where's Sherlock Mrs. Hudson?" He asked wearily. She didn't appear too pleased with the current situation and no wonder, Sherlock had more or less made her carry his case down a flight of stairs without a simple thank you. Yep, that's Sherlock alright. John nodded as he thought. Suddenly, Sherlock's voice came from the flat. 

"JOHN!" Mrs. Hudson said nothing afraid that it might be offensive to the boys so she walked past John into her own flat by the front door. The good doctor watched her before trudging up the stairs and into their flat. When he entered 221B, John caught the sight of a tall, dark and handsome figure hunched over a table tapping away at his laptop. It was Sherlock.  

"Sherlock, what are you doing? We'll miss our flight!" He said padding in the direction of the daring detective and gently leaning on his back as he peered over his boyfriends shoulder. The Science Of Deduction! Of course, why am I not surprised? John chuckled to himself while the indulged Sherlock continued tapping away at the laptop keys. John then moved behind him and just leaned into his back. His arms then began wrapping around Sherlock's waist and up his shirt as the doctor's hands began rubbing his partner's chest. At this, Sherlock swerved his pale head round to face John's. The detective's face yet content with what his lover was doing, showed signs of mild irritation.  

"What?" John wondered with slight bewilderment as he gave a mere shrug of his shoulders; his hands still on Sherlock's chest. He cocked forward as a sly smile extended across his face. Sherlock couldn't help but return a small, soft smile. Their lips soon met and the detective grabbed John's shirt pulling him forward until he had to sit on Sherlock's laps.  

"I love you." Said the great detective softly as he pulled away from the doctor's delectable lips. It was rare for anyone to get even the slightest human emotion from Sherlock Holmes but then again, Dr. John Watson wasn't just anyone. The detective's hands made their way down to John's waist where they settled and were then wrapped round him tightly. In response, the doctor smiled warmly before getting up and stepping back. Sherlock pouted and whined as his partner did this but John simply grinned teasingly. Pretending to be upset, Sherlock turned back round and tapped away at the laptop keys once more before closing the lid.  

"You realize that no-one reads your blogs right?" Watson remarked as he grabbed Sherlock's coat from the stand but Sherlock simply ignored him. John smirked marginally at the sudden ignorance of Holmes who had slipped on his coat while John was holding it up. The detective then grabbed his dear-stalker before leaving 221B.