Into the Night - AU - Locked to seaweed_writes

[ihadabadday]

Sex sold. It could be seen in marketing for businesses across all sorts of industries.

And for John Watson, his business was booming.

He worked out of a club in London that catered to certain... Tastes. Men and women who looked to dominate someone sexually. Some would look down on a man having that job, scoffing. Sex work was legal though. But those who were interested in BDSM, found sex workers to be lacking.

John was sitting at a bar at the club he usually worked out of, nursing a soda. He rarely drank when he was working, preferring to stay sober.

He looked around the room, seeing if there was anyone who caught his interest tonight.

Comments

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock grimaced as he was helped up, back to the bed, and settled back down. All the movement had, of course made the pain ramp up yet again. He was biting his lip to keep from crying out.

He sighed when he was settled finally, knowing that eventually it would fade back into a dull roar.. eventually.

He shrugged his shoulders and kept his eyes closed, he was getting a migraine from all the pain and stress and light just made it worse.

[ihadabadday]

John bit his lip and got Sherlock the painkillers. He dosed out two and set them on the bedside table along with a bottle of water.

"I'm going to run to the store. I'll turn out the lights. Try and get some rest." He then left the room.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock took the 2 Paracetamol with a small amount of water, then leaned his head back and closed his eyes, nodding silently to John.

With the pain that he was in, he seriously doubted that he would be able to sleep, but it was blessedly warm and dark and quiet, and he found himself flicking in and out of sleep.

[ihadabadday]

John had started looking for work in clinics and hospitals once more once Sherlock had healed up. He was glad, that had been a rather stressful several weeks. He, at times, wanted nothing more than to punch his partner. But he kept his temper in check. After a few weeks of looking, he found a job at a small clinic. He was happy to be working in his field again.

He came home after a shift. "Sherlock? Are you here?"

[seaweed_writes]

It had been hell when he was injured, and it seemed forever before he finally started to get better, but eventually he was back on his feet again, literally and figuratively.

It seemed like no sooner was Sherlock better than John decided that he didn't want to stay around, which of course only annoyed Sherlock more. That meant that now that he was finally able to be more.. active again.. they would have even less time between John's work and his own detective work.

Sherlock was in the middle of an experiment on a cow's brain in the kitchen when he heard John come in.

"No, John. I am dead." He quipped.

[ihadabadday]

"Okay. I was wondering, corpse of my love, do you want Chinese or Thai tonight?" He asked as he walked into the kitchen. He kissed the back of Sherlock's head before starting the kettle for some tea.

The timing sucked, yes, but he liked the work he did. Helping people, especially when they were scared and sick.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock shrugged. He was frustrated- both that he had barely seen John in the last week, and that his experiment was not going the way he was hoping.

"Don't care." He rumbled, then went back to slicing another small chunk of the cow's brain to look under the microscope.

[ihadabadday]

John sighed and nodded. "Alright. I'm going to go shower..."

He then retreated to the bathroom. Were things unraveling now? Was Sherlock uninterested?

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock made a "Hmmmm" noise in the affirmative and went back to his work.

By the time that John was out of the shower, Sherlock had already given up on getting anything else done with regards to the cow brain. He was in his chair, with his laptop on his lap, typing away noisily at several websites at once.

[ihadabadday]

John walked over to the couch and sat down. He watched Sherlock, biting his lip. "Why don't we get out of town for a bit?" He asked, "Take a weekend just for ourselves?"

[seaweed_writes]

He looked up from his computer, giving John a confused look. "Out of town? Where would we go? What would he do?"

It wasn't that he was totally again the idea, but, there was nowhere particular that he wanted to go.

[ihadabadday]

"The country, the seaside. Something. Just the two of us. We could do whatever we wanted." John said, "Ever since I started this job, I know we haven't spent a lot of time together..."

John bit his lip. He didn't know what he would do if Sherlock turned him down.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock was not really one for travel. He had been many places with his family as a child, both in the UK and around Europe, and even Asia. But he much preferred home, with this constancy and familiarity. There was no where in particular that he wanted to go, really.

But John wanted to go.. Would he be able to get time off so quickly that they could just get away? Graham could survive in Scotland Yard without him for a few days, so he wasn't worried about himself.

"Where... would you want to go?" He asked cautiously, not really saying yes nor no to the question.

[ihadabadday]

John chewed on his lip, thinking. "I don't know." He answered after a moment, "Maybe the English countryside."

He could see Sherlock didn't want to do it. He pushed away from the table and got up.

[seaweed_writes]

"John?" He said, confused. Why was he leaving?

"Is... there a certain part of the country that you wanted to see, north close to Scotland, or more flat land close to Wales?"

[ihadabadday]

"Just forget it." The blonde whispered, "We don't need to go away."

He began to clean the dishes, his shoulders slumped.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock got up and walked over towards the sink. He didn't want to have to do this, especially out of a scene, but.. need must.

"JOHN." It was his dom voice, the one John knew that meant no nonsense, that he was to be listened to.

He grabbed John;s shoulder and pulled him around none too gently, so they were looking eye to eye again.

"It obvious that you want to get away, but you keep pussyfooting around and not giving me any information. So. Tell me."

[ihadabadday]

He almost slapped Sherlock for grabbing him, moving him. He just stared at his partner, an unknown expression on his face.

"I feel like you're pulling away, that you don't want me anymore. I thought going away would help us."

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock let go, staring John in the face. Him pulling away? John was the one who had insisted on getting a job, even though Sherlock had said that he would have plenty enough for both of them. He didn't say any of this, he bit his tongue, holding it back.

I never said I didn't want to go. You assumed. You do that a lot, assume you know what I want or what I am thinking, when I can assure you that you do not." He was a bit more acerbic than he meant to be, but what he said was the truth.

[ihadabadday]

John swallowed, not saying anything. He was pants at relationships and this was the longest he had been in by far. He wanted to trust Sherlock's words. But there was a voice in the back of his head whispering to him.

He pulled away and left the room. John retreated upstairs. He didn't know what to believe.

[seaweed_writes]

"Fine!" He yelled, loud enough to carry up the stairs. He grabbed his Belstaff and slammed the door after him, stomping down the stairs and walking at a brisk pace towards the Regents Park, with no real destination in mind.

[ihadabadday]

John sighed and rubbed his face. Fuck. But he stayed upstairs for the rest of the night. And even after, not sharing the bedroom with Sherlock.

He was a mess. This was a mess. And he had caused it and he didn't know how to fix it.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock had no idea how long he walked. He walked until the sun went down, and then walked some more. By the time he got back, its was late. He could hear the bed creaking upstairs as John tossed and turned in the upstairs bedroom.

Okay, it was going to be like that then.

He ran a hand over his face and retreated to their...er.. his bedroom. He read for a while and messed around on his laptop. The sun was almost starting to peak over the London horizon by the time he finally fell asleep from exhaustion, the still open laptop tipped over beside him.

[ihadabadday]

John had barely spoken to Sherlock in a week and a half. He was currently reading up on ways that he could return to the military. He was healthy once more... But he was too old.

He banged around the kitchen after finishing his reading and tucking it away.

[seaweed_writes]

The last 9 days had been a disaster. He wasn't even sure what the hell they were fighting about, but apparently it was something. And now, John had been reading up about re-enlisting? why the hell would he want to do that, Sherlock wondered.

John had been sleeping upstairs, and Sherlock had.. mostly not been sleeping at all. He was a haggardly mess. And Lestrade was noticing as well. he was even snappier than usual at crime scenes, and that was saying something.

Sherlock felt like he was walking on eggshells, like the tiniest little thing would set John off again, so he mostly said nothing, took cases- 4s and 5s even that he would never take before just to get out of the house, and tried to make as many excuses to stay in Molly's pathology lab at Bart's as he possibly could.