Caring is Not an Advantage- Johnlock

HI THERE THIS IS OUR FIRST FANFIC TOGETHER SO TELL US IF IT'S A PILE OF SHITE SORRY IF I OFFEND ANY OF YOU WITH THE CRAPPY WRITING MABOBS =)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Friday night was a fun night for Sherlock. It was the night that John always went out with his new 'obsession' of sorts. Personally Sherlock could never stand the vile creatures John always brought back to the flat. He always wondered why though to make him jealous? To try and prove his so called heterosexuality that both of them knew was non-existent, for fucks sake even the land lady knew that he was as bent as a nine bob note. Sherlock pondered over this for a few minutes eventually deciding he didn't actually give a fuck. He began looking for his hidden stash of cigarettes that he’d stored on top of the bookshelf, mainly to stop John from being able to reach them, however the bookshelf was tall and even Sherlock himself needed the assistance of a chair for him to be tall enough to reach them. He reached over to the back of the unit until his fingers clasped around the packet sighing to himself, glad that they were still there and hadn’t been tampered with.

As he lazily climbed back down off the chair Sherlock began to draw a cig out of the half full packet. He slumped back down on the comfy sofa moving one of the cushions above his head and reaching an arm down the back of the sofa searching for his lighter. After a couple of minutes he located the luminous yellow lighter and set his cig alight. Sherlock closed his eyes in bliss as he began to taste the nicotine on his lips. Finally he thought to himself beginning to truly relax, Sherlock let his thoughts run wild thinking about the last few days and more specifically why John had lied to him. That thought alone drove the man insane, surely John would’ve been able to tell that Sherlock would see straight through his blatant lie but still continued to go along with it anyway why? Sherlock of course knew that she wouldn’t get into a witness protection program especially not one in America so why bother coming up with such a bad excuse to make him feel relieved she wasn’t dead. Did John really think that Sherlock would feel that kind of sentiment towards another human being let alone care if they were dead or not?

He glanced at his watch it was half past 10 John had been gone an hour and half he would be back in fifteen minutes to let Sherlock know the good news. At that Sherlock smirked knowingly he already knew what was coming and he was glad, glad that he wouldn’t have to put up with the stupid slut again. He put his arms above his head and began to stretch feeling slightly more awake as London began to awaken the darker parts of its mind. This is what Sherlock lived for, The Game, it was all he had to care about to focus on, without it he would surely sink deeper into insanity. A cab pulled up outside and an extremely pissed off John Watson stalked out of it. Sherlock peered out of the window at his forlorn looking flat mate. He heard angry footsteps on the stairs and at the last second Sherlock realized his cigarettes were still on the sofa; as he threw them back on top of the bookshelf John burst through the door to the living area.

“You knew didn’t you? You knew that she was going to fucking finish me and you said nothing to prepare me for it.” “John I-“ “No Sherlock for once in your life shut the fuck up, do you know how much of a knob I feel right now? Hmm? You could’ve at least warned me about it, just one little hint.” “John we both know if I would have even mentioned the fact that she was going to end the relationship you both shared you would’ve flipped”. John just stood there looking at Sherlock as he sat there with a smug expression, as usual, and he just fucking knew that Sherlock was right and it just pissed him off so much that before he knew it he had gone up to the smug bastard and slapped him around the face. John then sat down in his chair and just stared at him.

John inhaled deeply taking in the scents if the flat. “Sherlock you’ve been smoking again”. “No I haven’t.” “It wasn’t a question it was a statement now give them to me or I’ll get Lestrade, Anderson and Donovan down here to find them for me”. At that Sherlock just gave in by this point he knew better than to argue with john, he reached for a chair slowly before climbing onto it, the uneven floor making it wobble slightly but Sherlock quickly regained his composure. He went onto his tip toes to look over the top of the bookshelf and he felt his shirt ride up, the material quickly being replaced by John’s burning gaze. “Enjoying the view?” At this John just grunted but continued to stare at Sherlock’s toned stomach until he heard the man mumble a ‘got you’ and jump off the chair. Sherlock straightened his attire before handing the half empty packet to John with a neutral expression on his face neither angered nor happy to give up the lasts of his hidden stash. Mentally Sherlock cursed himself for being so carless and not covering his tracks with enough care. He decided it could be worse though John could’ve texted Mycroft about this 'bump in the road'. John took the half empty packet looked Sherlock straight in the eye dropped the cardboard onto the floor they were stood on and crushed it under his heel, Sherlock watched it happen and then brushed past John into the kitchen and made both himself and John a mug of coffee.

Sherlock calmly handed John his and walked back over to his own chair mentally and physically preparing himself for what was about to come the thing that happened every time the relationships ended. He looked his friend in the eye and watched John’s walls crumble as he told Sherlock everything that happened unable to keep up his walls through thick and thin. John needed Sherlock he just didn't want to say or admit it.