//NO WARNING APPLY//
Two young women come to 221B Baker Street under the guise of asking for help and opened a new world for Sherlock: fanfiction.
It was half past one and for John it was proving to be a very long day; there were no interesting cases, even by his standards. Sherlock was slouched in his chair, legs straightened out and arms hanging from the side, head hanging from the backrest, it was an uncomfortable looking sight, but the detective had been in the same position for the past 15 minutes, not moving an inch for possible clients. John placed his flatmate's coffee on the side table then went to his own chair when there was a knock at the door frame, John set his coffee down and cleared his throat.
"Come in." He called out, standing up. Two young women stepped inside, the first girl was rather tall and freckled face. Dirty blond, frizzy hair draped her shoulders, with a rather long scarf wrapped several times around her neck, but not much else stood out about her; her expression was aloof and seemed more focused on the decorations hung in the flat. The second girl was brown haired and pale, face flushed and eyes darting about, John could guess this was their client and the other girl was her support. "How can we help you?" He asked, offering her a chair in front of them, the second girl waved him off before he could ask.
"Well, uh... um." The second girl looked at Sherlock for a moment, who was still sprawled, then rubbed her chin with the sleeve of her jacket, "I-I got an email from a stranger, saying they h-have some suggestive photos that I once sent to m-my ex-boyfriend. He wants money that I don't have a-and I don't know who it is." She explained. John looked at her with empathy, figuring she was young and made a mistake. Sherlock finally sat up, shuffling back to get comfortable and looked at each of them properly.
"You're lying." He accused, John shot him a look then turned back to the girl. The brunet covered her mouth with her sleeve and shook her head at Sherlock, wide eyed with disbelief.
"She's not! I've seen the emails!" The blond exclaimed, annoyance crossing her face as she stepped close to her friend, guarding. Sherlock stood up, towering over the blond with a stern expression, the brunette grabbing her friend's hand.
"Please stop." She said meekly. Sherlock looked the blond in the eyes.
"You friend is a shy virgin, very unlikely she even kissed a boy, much less sent them suggestive photos. Why are you here?" He asked, that was the only thing that made him curious.
"Research." The blond answered simply, trying her best to keep her ground, but a flush crept on her cheeks.
"Don't tell him!" The brunette cried out, standing up suddenly, causing the chair to fling back. John was a loss for words, sitting there and looked between the three of them.
"Researching what?" Sherlock asked, grabbing the blonde's shoulder and pushed her aside, directing his attention to the brunette, figuring she would talk. If someone was trying to trap them or get information, they obviously hired the wrong people. The girl began tearing up, thoroughly intimidated by Sherlock.
"I-I was just writing-!" The brunette was trying to explain before the blond put her hand over her mouth and grabbed the smaller girl by the shoulder.
"Nothing. It's nothing. Candice, shut up." The blond said, her hand sliding down Candice's shoulder and grabbed her hand, literally dragging her out of the flat.
"What was that about?" John asked as he stood up, looking out the window, "Journalists?" He added, turning to Sherlock. The detective was holding a wallet, "Whose is that?" The doctor asked accusingly, knowing his flatmate just nicked it from either of those girls.
"Julia Bennett, a student." Sherlock answered, studying the student ID, throwing the rest of the blonde's wallet to John and pulled out his phone, texting quickly.
"What would a high school student want with us?" John asked, studying the contents, figuring this would be retrieved later and set it on the side table.
"That's what I'm trying to find out." Sherlock said, sitting back down and sipped his coffee. A minute later his phone rang, picking up on the first ring. "That was fast." He commented, holding the identification again.
"Well, because there isn't much to go by. Julia Grace Bennett, 17, only child- lucky her. Mother, Gracia Bennett is a nurse and father Robert Bennett, bin man. No criminal records on any of them. How terrifyingly average." Mycroft explained, "Now why would you want me to look up details of a high school student?" He asked in return.
"She came here with a friend, Candice. They came with a fake case and when I tried confronting them, Ms. Bennett dragged her away." Sherlock answered, he let out a deep sigh, "Thank you!" He said in a shrill voice, brows raising at John before hanging up, leaving his brother on a dead line. "Nothing." He commented with frustration, John shook his head with a shrug, unable to say anything to that.
Now there weren't any cases, but Sherlock was on the hunt, jumping out of his chair, taking his coffee to the desk, deciding to do a little research. John finished reading the paper when he noticed his flatmate typing away, frowning and got up, hovering over Sherlock's shoulder.
"What are you looking up?" He asked, spotting multiple tabs. Sherlock paused, leaning against the chair.
"I don't know." The detective answered, crossing his arms, looking up to John, "Why would a 17 year old come to our flat for 'research'?" Sherlock asked, John looked at him in the face.
"Maybe she wants you to be her sugar daddy?" He suggested before breaking into a giggle, Sherlock laughed as well, shaking his head. John stepped away, going into the kitchen for a moment, Sherlock went back to his own research, the doctor got on his coat, "I'm going grocery shopping." John announced, checking the time.
"Have fun." Sherlock said simply, waving off his hand.
-----
Hours went by, John came back with a grocery bag and a pair of coffees, setting the bag on the kitchen counter before bringing a cup to Sherlock.
"Any luck?" The doctor asked, looking over Sherlock's shoulder, the younger man noticed the coffee, but didn't comment, John reading an excerpt quickly- Sherlock wrapped his legs around John's hips, pulling him closer, "What the hell are you reading?" He asked with disbelief. Sherlock sipped his coffee, feeling drained.
"Fanfiction." He answered simply, tapping his finger on the table, trying to find the right words, "People write fictional scenarios with real people or fictional characters. In this case, a very graphic scenario where you're shagging me." He explained, straight faced, John practically collapsed on the chair from the side of the table.
"What?" He asked, still dumbfounded, "Why?" John added, looking at the side of the laptop, unable to comprehend. Sherlock took a deep breath, this was something he was still coming to grips with himself.
"From my understanding is that if there are at least two people of notable standing, with us I assume it's because we've appeared on the news multiple times and have a small following. In that following there are some that are quite motivated enough to make creations; drawings, theories and in this case.. Write fanfiction." Sherlock explained, sitting back and propped his elbow into his hand and tapped his nose. John leaned back, feeling dumbfounded.
"I don't know what to say to that." The doctor said, getting up to get his own coffee, coming back and flopping down in the chair again, "Is there any way to stop it?" John asked hopefully.
"Stopping anonymous people on the internet? No. If anyone says anything negative about it it just draws more people to join in ironically." Sherlock answered, looking at John for a moment.
"Wonderful." John sighed, sipping more of his coffee, "So we just ignore it." The doctor concluded, feeling defeated despite the fact he didn't know this existed ten minutes ago.
"Pretty much." Sherlock shrugged, using the touch pad to scroll through, "An ungodly amount are about us just shagging." He commented and chuckled, John almost spat up his coffee, clearing his throat.
"People imagine that?" He asked, feeling his face become warm, the detective grimace.
"There is this odd ratio of me taking it up the arse though." He added reluctantly, closing a tab and moved onto the next, John had to laugh at that comment,.
"Yes, like that's the problem and you know- not the whole writing fictional stories about us in the first place." John teased, raising his brows slightly.
"I can accept that the vast majority wouldn't understand the intricacies of being a consulting detective, but the idea of you shagging me is another thing." Sherlock slammed the laptop shut.
"-Even though there's no shame in bottoming." John pushed, they looked at each other a moment, the elder man narrowing his eyes at him.
"Right, yes. No shame." Sherlock smiled, "But you know, accuracy's sake..."
"Mmhmm."
-----
John groaned as he slid back in bed, crawling over and placed himself on Sherlock's side, half leaning on the other man's chest, getting comfortable. Sherlock was dazed, looking up at the ceiling, he wasn't sure if John was aware, but he spent the remainder of the day reading more fanfiction.
"You look preoccupied." John comment, bringing his hand to tug at a strand of chest hair.
"Have you ever thought about topping?" Sherlock asked, his hand grabbing the doctor's, gently pushing it away from the spruce of hair. John turned his head, giggling into the other man's chest.
"Were you reading more of that dribble?" He asked playfully, but found it oddly endearing. John rested his cheek on Sherlock's chest for a moment, looking for the right words. "I have thought about it, in the past- briefly, when I was getting my barring on... sex, but not anymore." The older an answered with a small smile. Sherlock lifted his head, looking at him with a slight frown then flopped back down.
"Really?" He asked, genuinely interested., "What changed?" Adding, still holding on to John's hand, looking at his knuckles. John hummed as he tried to remember, then moved to straddle Sherlock, pressing their bodies together.
"Honestly? What some of these writers may never get about you and I'm guessing no thanks to your media persona is that you are incredibly lazy." John answered before laughing again, "God, you're so lazy." He complained and took a deep breath.
"What? I'm not lazy." Sherlock said with annoyance.
"You are too! You are almost painfully lazy and inconsiderate." John retorted.
"Okay, fine. I can be both of those things, what does that have to do with you taking it up the arse?" Sherlock shot back, more confused. John groaned as he pressed his face into Sherlock's chest.
"Are you kidding? It has everything to do with bottoming!" John answered, giving him a stressed smile, "Okay. Okay. How about a few questions then?" He decided, figuring Sherlock wasn't being malicious, but the younger man narrowed his eyes.
"Fine. Ask away." Sherlock said defensively. John sat up, look down to him.
"When was the last time you groomed yourself?" John asked with slightly raised brows.
"Groomed myself? I did have a bath yesterday..." Sherlock answered, not quite sure where John was going at, the older man sighed, reaching over and roughly pinched his nipple.
"No, I mean groomed yourself." John repeated with annoyance, Sherlock raised hi brows as he realized what he meant.
"Oh. Last month. Why?" The detective asked, sitting up on his elbows, looking between them and saw a noticeable difference.
"It shows. I groomed myself three days ago. Not that you noticed until now." John huffed, "Okay. What did you have for dinner?" He added, Sherlock narrowed his eyes.
"Pork chops and potatoes."
"And what did I have for dinner?"
"Salad and half a pork chop."
"Right. What did you have for lunch?" John asked, Sherlock flopped back with an exasperated sigh.
"Fine, I get it. I'm lazy!" He threw his hands in the then smiled, "Was that your only deciding factor?" Sherlock asked, lifting himself and held himself up with one hand, looking John in the face. There was a slight blush that crept on John's cheek.
"Obviously not. I just followed along and it just felt natural, I guess." John admitted, clearing his throat, "So, what inspired you to take the lead then?" He asked in return. Sherlock thought back, there were surprisingly few memories erased, he grinned as he looked back at John.
"I want to bum you." He answered honestly. John was at a loss of words, bringing himself to lie on top of the other man as he began to laugh, smiling as he rested his head.
"Of course. How obvious." John sighed, his eyes drifting shut.