Johnlock One-Shots

Singin' in the Rain

"John, I need to go for a walk."
"Sherlock, it's dark."
"I know, but I have to walk. I need fresh air, are you coming or not?" Sherlock sighed, pulling on his jacket. John gave an irate sigh, but closed his laptop nonetheless. "What were you doing on your laptop, John? You weren't blogging, you didn't type. That also rules out messaging a girlfriend. Your pupils were darting around the place, suggesting a film or video-"
"It was just a musical, Sherlock." John huffed, grabbing his jacket and marching out of the room, Sherlock on his heels. "Where do you want to walk?" John asked, closing the door behind them.
"I don't care. Down the street?"
"How about the park?"
"Fine." The two walked in silence to the park, when John started to hum a little tune. Sherlock smiled a little, looking up at the sky. A few ominous grey clouds threatened to break the peaceful spell. "Who's the current girlfriend?" Sherlock asked, a bit out of curiosity and a bit out of jealousy, though he would never admit it to himself. Caring was not an advantage. At least, he didn't think so...
"Eh, none, at the moment." John quipped, sounding almost embarrassed. "Like the last one, she thought you and I were, um, yeah. Why does everyone think that? It's just..." Perfect. John thought to himself. "Weird." He finished. Sherlock nodded.
"It is strange. Sometimes I wonder what goes on in your mundane minds." Sherlock threw himself down onto a park bench, lying lengthways on it, pulling his, 'I'm thinking' face. John sighed and took this as an opportunity to write up a draft for the last case they had covered. He was trying to think of a name for the account, but nothing was coming to mind. He thrust the notebook into his pocket, defeated. Another one for the bin. John found himself staring at Sherlock, gazing at his eyes, the eyes that seemed to John to reflect the entire universe, observing his cheekbones, his Cupid-bow lips. John could see himself kissing those lips... No, no he couldn't. Straight as a ruler. Sherlock jerked up when a raindrop landed on his nose. He groaned and looked at John, surprised to find him staring at him. "John?" John felt a shiver go through his spine at the sound of Sherlock's baritone voice.
"Mm?"
"Have you got an umbrella?"
"Um, yeah, here." John handed over the required instrument and Sherlock popped it open.
"John?"
"Yes Sherlock?"
"You're going to get wet if you stay out from under the umbrella."
John nodded and stepped in beside Sherlock. "Better get home." John muttered. Sherlock nodded in agreement. They had taken a few more steps when John felt Sherlock's hand half-holding his. John blushed, but grabbed his hand properly.
"I'm singing in the rain... Just singing in the rain... What a glorious feeling. I'm happy again." John didn't know why he started singing, but it was under his breath, so he was surprised when Sherlock responded.
"I think I know which musical you were watching." He smiled down at John who looked up at Sherlock.
"Do you know the words?"
"I'm laughing at clouds, so dark up above," Sherlock smirked, nodding. They had stopped walking now, with John craning his neck to stare into Sherlock's eyes, he didn't care anymore. He liked Sherlock Holmes. A lot.
"The sun's in my heart..." He stood on the tops of his toes, struggling to reach Sherlock's height. "And I'm..."
Sherlock gently pressed his lips to John's, bending down slightly to make it easier for him. "And I'm ready for love." He muttered, pulling back, lacing his fingers into John's as they started heading back to Baker Street.

(A/N) Crappy? Yes. Creative? No. Written at the early hours of the morning? Yes. Uselessness justified? I should hope so. Look, I'm sorry for this chapter. You can improve the quality by:

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