Sherlock oneshots

Johnlock~ discrace

Finally another chapter after like a month. I'll be honest, updates will be getting less frequent. With the lack of Sherlock content nowadays I have nothing to go off, not to mention I'm trying to focus my writing abilities on things I'm currently more interested in. So apologies for that, but I'm just exited to write different stuff, so if ur ever interested check out my page! Now, on with the Johnlock...

*trigger warning!*
*HOMOPHOBIC SLURS AND SUCH*

John Watson had always been a man known for speaking his mind. If he thought something was off about something or someone, he'd always say something about it. He was very forward, and no one would've ever thought he had anything to hide. Except, that was kind of his plan...

He'd been raised to speak his mind like a man, as his father put it, admit to having issues with people, admit to being wrong, admit you'd beat the shit out of someone if they dared rub you the wrong way. That was the way both him and his sister Harry had been raised, to be strong and traditional, so that John could get a nice wife, and Harry a nice husband.

That's why those words haunted the Watson family for so long after.

"I'm a lesbian."

From that day forward, John promised himself he'd never speak his mind truthfully. Seeing the looks Harry got from her mother and father, the differences between the way the siblings were treated, how often the words 'shame' and 'embarrassment' were used at a girl only 15 years old. He couldn't be seen like that. He couldn't disappoint his father. He had to make up for Harry's mistake of being born gay.

That why, when he met a man called Sherlock Holmes oh so many years later, and felt a formidable tug at his heart and a recognisable churn in the pit of his stomach, he shut down. He'd felt this way about boys before, whether it was on the playground or in a bar, he always crammed the feeling so far into his core and held it for as many years as it took to go away. He could not disappoint his father. He could not shame his family any more.

He could not be gay.

That's why John Watson found himself alone in the flat, huddled into himself on his bed sobbing as quietly as he could, pushing fistfuls of blanket into his mouth to dampen the sound. Why? Because he was in love. In love with a man called Sherlock Holmes. Who was also home, sitting in the living room bored.

He obviously knew something was wrong with John, it was all clear. What wasn't clear was what was actually troubling him. It was since his dad's 84th birthday had passed. Johns dad was dead and had been for many years, and every year the date passes by without a word said in its name, so why this year it was affecting him was unknown to Sherlock.

He wasn't good with human emotions, maybe he was just tired.

Sherlock would've left it at that, if there wasn't a large audible sob heard from the doctor's room at that exact moment. The detective glanced up at the ceiling, debating pressing the matter or just ignoring it. He knew which one John would prefer, he hated Sherlock seeing him upset.

Never the less, he got up, and walked slowly towards Johns bedroom, and to what could be a very awkward experience if not handled properly.