When can I see you again? Johnlock AU

Disgustaang

 "I read your files."

Oh yeah sure. That explains everything. How does he even get a hand on these? They are strictly forbidden.

"I hate these cookies..." I mumble.

"You're not that far off, John. My brother practically is the government" Sherlock explains to me. Weird, what an oddly nice gesture.

"'kay, thanks for explaining." I flash a quick smile into his direction.

Hard to do since he is standing behind me. Still pressing the cool ice against my neck.

It's getting cold in here ~ so put on all your clothes. Though it is hard to put on something else than a shirt. Pants are already a struggle. I mentioned this before.

"I am not the government, I just work for the government." He's done yet again. Karma~

"Sure, that's why you got my files so easily. Because your security sucks"

"John, language."

"What, are you captain America now?" I joke.

"Let me help you sit up John, you should sit straight at least so your blood circles through your body."

I've doubted being straight since I am here...

All of the sudden, I lose the floor under my feet. Did I faint again?

You are a goldfish John. How should you faint while being conscious?

Then I notice hands supporting my legs and one under my shoulders. Oh, Sherlock just swooped me off my feet.

Wait. HE swooped me of my feet?! Oh no please-

"What a pretty embarrassing pose for your client Sherlock. You shouldn't do that with everyone." I hear that you are implying us being together. Because he carries me in bridal style. Awkward.

"It is? I saw it in a lot of films these days." Zero social understanding. Cute but dumb. And it's making me feel awkward. Guess I will need to teach him social interactions now. Bothersome. Yeah, I feel bothered. Not even a little bit happy.

Only seconds later, I feel the cold wood of a chair on my butt. Then Sherlock releases me, just to stand behind me again. Holding the cool something on the back of my head.

"Well, I didn't wish to disturb you two lovebirds with your breakfast."

"Oh yes, hold the socks for a minute John. You want a tea, dear brother."

"Thank you, but I politely decline. You know I don't drink any tea from you." Clever. Who knows what Sherlock would put in the cup... He would probably drug me. Or he would put in sugar, ewww.

"If you ever drink tea from anyone." He mumbles. Weird, I will need to investigate that more.

"Sorry to butt in" I perk up. "But why the hell socks? Were they in the freezer?"

"Yes." Sherlock answers. Not even surprised.

"I am confusion². Why? Because you get warm feet in bed?" laughing at him. Even Mycroft cracked a little and he seems so aloof.

"What? Why should I? No, it was an experiment."

What the frick does he experiment with socks in a freezer? I have the feelings I ask too many questions.

With a clink and a little clash, Sherlock puts down two things in front of me. Hopefully a cup of tea and something to munch on. Because, damn, I am hungry. No, jokes aside, I am actually John.

When you are so pathetic that you dad-joke yourself.

Do you agree voice?

Yes. Pathetic.

Alright, then we are on the same page.

After another rattling I assume that Sherlock has seated himself in front of me with his food.

"Suit yourself, brother." Sherlock just states.

"I surly won't. Do you know how dirty that chair of yours is?"

"Hmmm, I don't even see a spec of dust on there." I smile at him.

He probably scrunches his face in disgust. "No, thank you. My hands have already slightly recovered."

What? "Why hand?"

"Nothing important. Enjoy your meal, I will talk to you Sherlock, in the meantime."

"Shoot" Sherlock says.

While these two are occupied talking about some psychological problem I tap on the table. Ever so slightly, inching forward.

When I hit the plate I slowly move my hand forward. Finally I grab the toast with hopefully cheese on it. I pick it up and take a bite. Heaven. I haven't eaten something for ages.

And white bread was a rarity in the military. DElicIoUsE.

I listen into their conversation once in a while. After a little time I got the basic: They talk about some guy who almost caused a shooting, not photo shooting though. Mycroft asked Sherlock about his opinion if the man was in his right mind. Some technical terms are used. Something about the subconciousness, media influencing the young man's brain, transference projections, defence mechanisms and about the ego not being able to appeal to the needs of the id and not keeping it in check. Honestly, I am so lost now.

Sherlock seems to be some psychological genius.

"- I see, then I will be going." Mycroft seems to be satisfied. Scary that they understand this language.

A bit of silence. Wow, awkward. Why isn't he moving? Did he hold out his hand? Not again, please!

Even more silence follows. Then I hear a heavy sigh from Sherlock.

"Just open the door yourself."

"I definitely won't, you know how many germs are on there?" He shivered.

The door creaks open, probably because Sherlock opened it.

"I have mysophobia, John. I don't need to see your confused face again."

"Get used to it, this is how I normally look like" I joke.

He slightly chuckles in my direction and starts to walk.

I perk up hearing another voice from the stairs. "Thank you, Miss Hudson. I will go up now"

Oh noo, this is gonna be great.

Just then I hear a crash. Lestrade and Mycroft just bumped into each other. Oh, how I wish to see their positions right now.

"Are you an angel" I hear Lestrade. Straight to the flirting.

"Disgusting" Mycroft scroffs. Wow, that's a rejection.

(A/n) I've been dead for a while because of exams xD well, at least I didn't disappear as long as before uwu