The Official Sherlock Holmes Fanclub

Meeting the fanclub

~3 months later~

John spent every moment he didn’t need to be in class, and mybe a few moments he was supposed to be in class by Sherlock’s bedside. In that time he’d come to accept the fact that he was utterly and completely in love with Sherlock and he couldn’t care less whether that made him gay or not. After Sherlock almost died, (and he still could), he’d realized protecting his heterosexuality was no where near as important to him as Sherlock was. Besides John’s near constant presence, Sherlock didn’t get too many visitors. There were the periodic visits from Mycroft, a nice lady named Mrs. Hudson, and surprisingly Greg. The first time Greg had showed up John figured it was really moral support for him rather than to see Sherlock, but he had begun to notice that Mycroft seemed awfully close with Greg. One time he’d heard Greg say something was “Not his division,” which seemed like either quite the coincidence or he’d learnt that phrase from Mycroft. John didn’t know how he would feel about Greg being in a relationship with Mycroft, but right now he had more important things to think about than his best mates possible relations with the brother of the man he loved. When had his life become so complicated? Just as John was about to doze off, in what had become his chair in Sherlock’s hospital room, his alarm went off telling him it was time to leave for class. With one last sad look at Sherlock and his usual reminder to the nurse to call him if anything changed he was off.

When John returned there was already someone in Sherlock’s room. The figure was obviously female, but not that of Mrs. Hudson, so this was a new visitor. He opened the door quietly, trying to identify the newcomer. He recognized her from around campus, but couldn’t put a name with the face. She looked up and smiled sadly at John. It was the worst kind of smile filled with pity and it made John want to burst into tears because it looked like the smiles he’d received at his father’s funeral. This new visitor, whether she knew it or not, was assuming Sherlock wouldn’t make it. Suddenly John felt angry.

“And you are?” he snapped

“Molly, Molly Hooper,” she responded and when John didn’t make any sort of greeting she continued, “I actually came to see you. Well, no, I wanted to see Sherlock, but I knew you would be here and I wanted to talk to you. I heard that you spend all your time here and, well I just wanted to tell you that you could talk to me about it if you want to. There’s actually a bunch of us that get together, and sort of share stories about Sherlock and such. Not that we- we don’t do that because we think- We did this before the, uh,” Molly gestured to Sherlock to indicate ‘the coma’, “Anyways you’re welcome to join us. We meet tomorrow night 7ish at Benedict’s flat” John didn’t respond so Molly scribbled down the address left it on the table and made to leave. Right before she went out the door she added, “Just, think about it. Please.” John nodded and she left. John sighed and sat down in his chair, “Sherlock, I think I’ve been asked to join your fanclub. Don’t worry I won’t go that would be- well it probably violates you in some way.” This time as John dozed off there was no alarm to stop him from falling asleep.

Despite his promise to Sherlock, John found himself outside the door of Benedicts flat at 7:10 the next night. He took a deep breath and knocked. A tall man with slicked blonde hair, green eyes and a turtleneck sweater was on the other side when the door opened.

“Benedict?” John asked.

“Oh yes, Benedict Cumberbatch. It’s a pleasure to meet you John Watson,” he said with a goofy smile and held out to shake John’s hand before finally letting him inside. Once in Benedict’s flat John was greeted with the sight of Molly sitting on a small couch next to a very well dressed dark haired boy and Irene Adler, who had quite a reputation on campus, in a folding chair to the one side of the couch sat another boy with longer dark hair and a slightly scruffy beard. There was another empty folding chair that Benedict ushered John into. Benedict then took a rolling chair in front of the couch and smoothed down his already smoothed down hair.

“Now where were we?”

“You were all droning on about where you think Sherlock got the blue scarf he wears while I was doing something much more useful and thinking of all the different ways I could tie him up with it,” Irene smirked. John gaped and Benedict looked rather flustered, but the dark haired boy next to Molly chuckled resulting in a slap in the arm and a, “Jim!” from a deeply flushed Molly.

“This is a serious club! Not somewhere for you to share your sexual fantasies!” the boy in the chair shouted sounding exasperated.

“Oh, get over yourself Anderson. I expect Molly to fill the part of the blushing virgin, not you.”

Oh god, what had John gotten himself into? 

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Benedict is based off his character Patrick Watts in starter for 10 ehehe