The Devil Was Never Here

It's Not My Fault That I'm Beautiful

           

Sherlock saw John again that afternoon, after the man had napped and recovered from his second night of consciousness. He looked very tired; dispute their attempts at making up the hours of sleep he had lost. His eyes were very dark, his face weary and his limbs heavy, but dispute John's look of misery a smile was able to come onto his face when he first saw Sherlock pull up outside of the house. Mary and John were sitting out on the porch, basking up sunlight in an attempt to scare the Aspiration deeper into the darkness of John's body. Sherlock got out of the car with a smile, walking up to the porch and standing on the steps for a moment.
"Hello Watsons." He exclaimed, observing the two tired parents.
"Hello Sherlock." John said back, a new found sparkle appearing in his eyes. Mary didn't extend any sort of greeting, but that was quite alright with Sherlock. If she wanted to be difficult, then so be it. Mary's bitterness made something inside of Sherlock try to justify his own feelings towards John, as if by hating his wife he could have John all to himself. This was not even the slightest bit true, but nevertheless it was a hard fact to push aside.
"Have a nice night?" Sherlock wondered. John just laughed, his toes rocking them both back and forth on the porch swing on which they sat.
"Well, I guess so." John said with a shrug. Mary just smiled doubtfully, as if she didn't agree with his final decision at all.
"Have you slept since?" Sherlock wondered, leaning against the railing of the porch and watching the both of them carefully.
"Yes, we both took much needed naps." John agreed. Sherlock nodded, not quite sure how to respond to that. Mary was glaring at him rather challengingly, as if daring him to say something that she didn't approve of.
"Nothing out of the ordinary then? Do you feel, well, all together yourself?" Sherlock asked hopefully. John nodded, but Mary's scowl just deepened at the question.
"I'm alright Sherlock, I'm alright." John assured, letting his head rest on the back of the swing and sighing heavily. Sherlock forced his eyes away from John, trying his best not to notice his closed eyes, his broad shoulders, or his exposed neck.
"How about you Mary, did you find last night to be alright?" Sherlock wondered, hoping for her skeptical report just for a distraction from her stunningly attractive husband.
"Everything was perfectly normal, although I don't know what you might've expected otherwise." Mary said with an antagonizing smile.
"It's worked so far, I expected nothing less than a perfect report." Sherlock assured with a sweet smile.
"I was just worried that John wouldn't be able to stay up all night, that's all." Sherlock added.
"And why wouldn't he?" Mary asked defensively.
"Oh I don't know, maybe you just weren't as, entertaining." Sherlock said with a shrug.
"Entertaining? Sherlock Holmes you tread carefully, remember the only reason you're still hanging around here is because I'm permitting it." Mary warned. Sherlock held up his hands defensively, and finally John opened his eyes once more, after hearing his wife's yelling he probably found it necessary to join in on the conversation.
"Alright, alright, let's not argue here." John insisted, getting to his feet and stretching out for a moment. Once again, Sherlock fascinated himself with the peeling paint on the railing instead.
"Want to come in for a cup of tea?" John wondered hopefully, looking carefully at his wife as if worried she wouldn't permit such a thing. Mary was silent, however, looking up at Sherlock with hateful eyes.
"That sounds lovely." Sherlock agreed softly, letting himself follow John into the house. Mary stayed outside, and Rosie seemed to be absent from the house, so they were alone in the sunlit kitchen once more. John filled up the kettle while Sherlock leaned against the counter, watching him work with guilty eyes.
"I should advise you not to provoke Mary like that again." John suggested, turning on the stove and setting the tea kettle on one of the burners.
"Apologies." Sherlock said simply, his fingers buttoning and unbuttoning the cuff of his jacket nervously.
"She's been very tense lately; it's worried me a little bit. She doesn't seem to like you much." John admitted obviously. Sherlock nodded; of course everyone had noticed Mary's sudden coolness.
"So it would seem." Sherlock agreed. John sighed heavily, watching Sherlock in silence while the kettle hummed.
"Are you watching me tonight?" John wondered. Sherlock just laughed uneasily, looking at John with a rather confused expression.
"You make me sound like some sort of stalker." Sherlock decided. John just laughed, shaking his head and trying to think of a way to rephrase that statement.
"Are you um...accompanying me?" John wondered, looking a little bit conflicted as if he wondered just how platonic that sounded. Sherlock just nodded, his fingers tapping against the counter as his eyes watched John's uneasiness.
"If it's alright with you I'd be happy to." He agreed. John nodded very quickly, glancing up at Sherlock once before letting his gaze drop again.
"Ya no, definitely I want you to come." He assured in a very quick voice.
"Well then I will. Would you like to stay up here or at Molly's?" Sherlock wondered.
"Oh um, well, I had a better idea." John said in a reluctant excitement. Sherlock just raised an eyebrow, wondering what on earth John could suggest as a better idea.
"Oh yes?" Sherlock asked curiously. "What might that be?"
"Well I was thinking of how people possibly entertain themselves all night, and I decided that maybe we should go down to uh, to the club." John suggested. Sherlock could help but laugh at the idea of going out to a brightly lit dance floor with a man he was so desperately attracted to. There was no possible good ending to that scenario.
"Well that's certainly a suggestion, maybe not the best idea however, considering who your choice of company is." Sherlock pointed out. John looked rather embarrassed at simply bring it up, but he was obviously trying to think of a way to defend his ideas.
"I don't think my choice in company is bad, I mean, we might even have fun." John admitted in a small voice. Sherlock let himself lean farther into the counter, bending his knees a little bit to keep himself propped up.
"Surely you must be a little bit bothered by my sexuality. Surely the idea of spending a night with me by your side must make you uncomfortable." Sherlock suggested. John's cheeks flushed very red, but there was something very pleasing about his awkwardness, there was something very satisfying.
"No I mean, you don't make me uncomfortable at all." John assured extremely quickly. Sherlock could only crack a smile, considering how obviously uncomfortable John was right now.
"Well then, Mr. Watson, if you think you're up to it then I should hardly dare to argue." Sherlock assured finally. John finally looked up at him with a smile, as if wondering about the sincerity of Sherlock's agreement.
"Wait, really?" he wondered quickly. Sherlock just nodded, shrugging passively.
"Don't be alarmed if I have a beautiful man on my arm as the night grows darker." Sherlock warned.
"No, no that's fine. I understand, you know, I'm fine with that." John assured very quickly. Sherlock's smile widened, and at that moment the tea kettle started to scream, announcing its boiling contents.
"Wonderful." Sherlock muttered, only to himself. He wondered just how this night was going to go; he wondered how on earth he was going to resist the temptations in his heart with a couple of drinks under those neon lights. Either way, however, Sherlock was sure that John had no idea what he was getting himself into.