One shots (johnlock fluff mostly)

Cornetto?

Click the radio on, the sound of Freddie Mercury's voice filling the room, already half way through "good old fashioned lover boy" as the blonde sat on his bed pulling his shoes off.

The door to the dorm room swung open after a while, a tall lanky boy with narrow shoulders and toothpick legs walked in, having all the air of someone  who couldn't care less about global warming and ice melts as he continues to text on his phone details on something not even John was sure of.

The tall boy, otherwise known as Sherlock then dropped down onto his own bed before leaning back against the head board still doing god knows what on his phone.

John watched him for a moment, realised he was staring again and looked away before clicking on his computer and scrolling through the news and anything else that he could find to bring up to sherlock in a way to at least start some semblance of interesting conversation.

Scrolling for what felt like ages he gave up all hope and snapped the computer shut.

"Want anything?" He piped up as he pulled his coat on over his jumper and put his wallet in his pocket knowing it held a fiver at least so he should be able to get something from the shop just down the road.

Not even a glance up as the boy answered.

"Cornetto?"

Not a question yet said like one, not timid at all as he continues on his phone.

John sighed and left, the door closing softly behind him.

Life continues like this for what felt like years but in reality was six months.

Which lead to then.

Six months later, walking back from the pub with Sherlock slightly tipsy at his side having drank a few too many glasses of cheap wine as he himself chuckled at Sherlock's random words and deductions. The dark street illuminated by only street lamps, glowing eerily in only a way a London street could at twelve at night.

It was as they were crossing a road, the streets to quiet to have to worry about cars that they caught sight of a man walking down the middle of the road towards them groaning.

"He's pissed mate" John laughed and Sherlock giggled beside him.

"One too many I believe you're right john" and that earned him a full laugh as John wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

"It's like that game graham gave you!" Sherlock then exclaimed.

"Gavin? Who the hells gavin?" John asked, sounding almost sober in his confusion.

"Gavin Lestrade?"

"You mean Greg?"

"Who?"

Laughing more they headed home, talking about this game that made no sense and seemingly adding their own lousy deductions of the early morning birds of London and the late night owls that appeared to be crashing into each other. Completely unaware of a certain news story blaring on tvs across London and England.

Falling through the door and not bothering to push it shut as they fell onto johns bed together and clicked on the cheap tv Sherlock had purchased from the second hand store.

"-inform you to stay inside and lock the doors and windows, do not leave under any circumstances"

Click!

"Hitting over the head or through the sku-"

Click!

"Hang on what was that?" John asked as he pointed at the tv and leaned forward, the image of a man with blood drooling down his chin and a not so heathy looking white skin with dirt blotches all over it.

Sherlock leaned closer to and listened properly to the story.

"A strange virus has spread through the city of London, people are attacking other people and resorting to cannibalism. Scientists can't identify the cause. Stay inside and lock the doors until further notice, barricade your windows and under no circumstances are you to go outside!" The news continues as such and Sherlock and John stared before staring at each other with confused looks of shock and disbelief.

Then horror.

"Did you lock the front door?"

"No I thought you did" was the baritone reply, but it sounded off. Scared maybe?

And then they both glanced up. And with a mix of both a comic mime and a stereotypical jump scare, their hands went up in synchronised jazz hands and they screamed before jumping up off the bed as the door swung open to reveal a very large man with a dopey eyes expression cone towards them, his clothes tattered and not much unlike the stereotype zombie from Geoff's games.

Screaming out randomly as they huddled together as far from the, I might as well say it,  zombie that was stumbling towards them clearly intent on eating brains and organs and anything else that got in the way.

"He's gonna eat me!" John yelped as they tried to push each other out the way.

"Eat you! What about me?!" Sherlock squawked as he threw a pencil sharpener at it.

"You?! Have you looked in the mirror there's no fat to you and your just bones after that! Why would he wanna eat you?!"

Sherlock now offended and pouting set about finding other things to throw which included a pencil from behind his ear. A chair. Johns laptop and finally a pocket knife which embedded into its skull before it fell forward and  the pocket knife went all the way through with a sickening crunch from the weight of his body alone and killing it.

Panting heavily having also joined on the throwing John squirmishly pushed the zombie out of the way of the door with his shoe before closing it, locking it, bolting it and then putting a chair in front of it and then leaning against said chair before collapsing into it.

"Alright?" Sherlock asked after a while, his skin paler than usual.

"That was the most ridiculous thing I've ever done" John breathes and went to lock the windows as well.

A laugh followed by a chuckle.

"We're in shit"

"Yeah we are"