The Pirate Man (Wholock/Johnlock)

John was angry. Very angry. He was very, very angry. Standing in the middle of the living room, he adressed the only person who could be responsible for the acid holes in his favorite jumper and the slight smell of something burned coming from the curtains.

'SHERLOCK! OVER HERE, NOW!'

His boyfriend walked into the living room, dressed in one of his silky dressing gowns, looking extremely calm. It was annoying, tought John. How could Sherlock be so unaware of the fact that it was absolutely not good to burn holes in your partner’s clothes?

'Yes, John?' Sherlock yawned, and ruffled his hair whith his left hand while taking a sip of his coffee from the other. He walked over to John, and observed the not-so-brand-new-anymore jumper. 'Oh. Yes, I was actually planning on telling you that after we had dinner.’ He walked into the kitchen, seemingly completely oblivious to the fact that John was almost fuming with anger. ‘Coffee?’

That was is it.

John spoke slowly, as he always did when he got angry. ‘Sherlock. Why did you do this?’ 

'Experiment!' Sherlock yelled from the kitchen. 'I had to know what type of acid gave what effect on certain kinds of cloth! Why? Something wrong?' He walked back, putting a cup of coffee on the table after John didn't acknowlege it's presence. Looking at the ruined jumper, he sighed. 'Didn't get the results I wanted, though. The curtains, on the ohter hand, were rather usefull.' He took another sip of his coffee. John was furious. Sherlock didn't understand. He furrowed his brow and thought. 'I don- No wait, I get it. You're angry with me. Why? It's just a piece of clothing…'

'Sherlock! This was brand new!' John yelled.

'Hmm. I can buy you a new one, if you insist.'

'What, you think that'd be it? Just buy me a new jumper and everything will be ok? That's not how the world works, Sherlock!'

'I don't care how the world works, John.’

'Sherlock, I think you got yourself a new record. Because in five days, you have succeeded in getting yourself arrested for a break in to a victim’s house, you almost killed me when you were shooting at the wall with your eyes closed, drugging your landlady so you could go to the movies with me-‘

Sherlock mumbled something. ’You didn’t mind that at the time.’

'SHUT UP! And now you have ruined my favorite jumper!'

Sherlock sighed, dramaticly trowing himself on the couch and groaning ‘What does it matter?’ as he trew pillow across the room, causing one of his many laptops to fall from the table.

'IT MATTERS BECAUSE-'

A scream, smothered by the couch. ‘OH FOR GOD’S SAKES, JOHN! It’s just a jumper!’

‘YOU WERE THE ONE WHO BOUGHT IT FOR ME!’

'I'LL BUY YOU A NEW ONE!'

'GODDAMNIT, SHERLOCK!'

‘WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO, THEN?’ Sherlock jumped off the couch and hit the wall with his fist in frustration, back turned to John. ‘I don’t know what you expected when we started this- this… Relationship, but certainly you didn’t expect me to turn into your perfect Prince Charming!’

John was way too angry to think about what he was saying, let alone think about what Sherlock was saying. ‘YOU COULD TRY!’ 

Sherlock exloded. That was the best way to describe it. He threw his hand up in the air, faced John and screamed at him, his voice exploding like a dragon, filled with anger. ‘I’M A SOCIOPATH!’

'SOCIOPATH MY ARSE, YOU JUMPED OFF A BUILDING TO SAVE YOUR LANDLADY!'

'GO AWAY!' Roared Sherlock.

'FINE!' John grabbed his coat from the couch and ran away, slamming the door behind his back.

Oh. 

Sherlock didn’t expect that. 

No, he was mistaken.

John wouldn’t leave.

John wouldn’t do that, would he?

Would he?

You did ruin his present from your first Christmas together…

People actually considered those things important?

No. Wait. Focus. 

John was leaving.

Sherlock opened the door to check if John was still downstairs. ‘John! WAIT!’ No reply. ‘JOHN!’

Sherlock rushed downstairs, yelling at Ms Hudson to go out of the way. Still in his bathrobe, he ran up the street. ‘JOHN! WAIT!’ Looking around, he saw John getting into a cab and soon out of his sight.

Too late.

He was too late.

John was gone.

Gone.

He crashed down on the pavement.

Ms. Hudson picked him up, dragged him into the kitchen upstairs, trying to talk to him. ‘He’ll get back Sherlock, I’m sure of it. No one needs you as much as he does.’ 

'Leave me alone.'

'Are you sure yo-'

'-I don't need anything! Leave me alone!’

So Ms Hudson scurried downstairs, leaving Sherlock to sulk in his chair.

—- Goodmorning, folks! (Or whatever is where you are). So that’s the first chapter of the first WhoLock fanfiction. And yes, I know, not much WHO here but that will appear in the next chapter. Good, I hope you liked it anyways and thanks so much for reading! Leave you reactions in our askbox, I totally wouldn’t mind. (No seriously, I’d love to hear from you and I have no social life whatsoever so you really wouldn’t bother me at all.) That’s it for now, again thanks so much and may I say that you look beautiful today? ~E&J —-