crackshotdoctor:

butineedanassistant:

crackshotdoctor:

butineedanassistant:

crackshotdoctor:

butineedanassistant:

crackshotdoctor:

butineedanassistant:

It had been far too long since he lost himself like this. He had not realized how much he missed the sensation of it all. Sherlock’s hands shook as he set aside the needle and unwrapped the band from his arm. Mmm yes… far too long.  

The man stretched out his legs, crossed his ankles and settled them onto the coffee table. He leaned back heavily against the back of the couch and steepled his fingers, pressing them to his lips. Sherlock stared at the ceiling for a long while, eyes half lidded and brain working at twice its normal rate.

It was early morning and the good doctor needed to get himself ready for his hours at the clinic. that was his chore now. With sherlock not working a single case, he was stuck bringing in the extra money. Wearing the pants of this relationship. But it only seemed to bring more stress. How he had sick patients to deal with, along with Sherlock’s constant antics.

Coming down the stairs in nothing but his pyjamas, John stopped dead in his tracks as he noticed Sherlock laying there on the couch. He at least expected to be alone in the morning, but it seemed Sherlock was now staying downstairs at night. “Don’t you ever sleep?” He asked softly as he turned towards the kitchen. And that is when he saw it. The syringe sitting there on the counter as if it belonged. the first thing that came to mind was drugs. More specifically, cocaine. Walking over, he grabbed it to make his own deduction about what Sherlock had just injected into himself. “What the hell are you doing to yourself?! Drugs?! This early in the morning?”

Sherlock didn’t even bother to open his eyes, he let his lips fall open lazily and a soft sigh escaped him. “It has nothing to do with ‘morning’… It is merely continuing from last night”

There was a long stretch where Sherlock seemed about to say something. Instead he sat up and his eyes cracked open, as if it took all his effort to do so. “You seem so out of sorts, my dear Watson.” The sociopath steepled his fingers again and peered over his fingertips at the doctor. “I could fix that for you..” 

John’s brow instantly furrowed at the words. Damn it. What if Lestrade had one of his sudden ‘drug raids’ to see if Sherlock had more evidence? This syringe would not help at all. Without thinking, he grabbed the syringe in a cloth and tossed it in the trash. “I do not do any sort of drugs. All night? You do know cocaine can be addictive?”

Sherlock cracked open one eye and let out a slow, exasperated breath. He stood, moving fluidly, like his bones were made of water, it was almost an unorthodox dance. The sociopath moved at a slow pace to stand in front of John. “Very well. Stay in today. Keep me entertained.”

He held up his hands as if surrendering, “I promise no seduction. I know you like… females.” He let the last word hiss through his teeth, coated with disdain.

Having the taller man over him was very intimidating. But John was a soldier and did not show his uneasiness. He wasn’t exactly thrilled with the fact Sherlock was currently drugged out. “Seduction? I really did not expect you to be doing such a thing.” Pouring himself a cup of coffee, he turned to the side and shook his head. “I have to be off to the clinic today. Rent is due soon and I need to earn my share.” 

Sherlock moved again, trapping John between himself and the kitchen counter. The sociopath’s long arms gripped the counter top and his piercing eyes held the doctor in his place. “I’ve already called in. They were kind enough to give you the day off… You’ve been stressed lately.”

Either John was ridiculously slow in the morning, or Sherlock was incredibly fast. Before he knew it, he was pinned with nowhere to go. His dark blue eyes couldn’t pull away from Sherlock’s. Silenced lingered between them, a blush setting on his cheeks. “Y-You can’t just do that! Call me out sick! And I am doing just fine. If I am stressed, it is because I am not geting enough sleep with you keeping me up.”

“I’ve done no such thing. You feel the need to check on me every hour. That’s no fault of mine.” The corner of his lips twitched just slightly, his eyes dancing over John’s features in a very eerie sort of way.

Sherlock took half a step back, easing off the doctor, “You have been stressed. Please, let me care for you today.” 

crackshotdoctor:

butineedanassistant:

crackshotdoctor:

butineedanassistant:

crackshotdoctor:

butineedanassistant:

It had been far too long since he lost himself like this. He had not realized how much he missed the sensation of it all. Sherlock’s hands shook as he set aside the needle and unwrapped the band from his arm. Mmm yes… far too long.  

The man stretched out his legs, crossed his ankles and settled them onto the coffee table. He leaned back heavily against the back of the couch and steepled his fingers, pressing them to his lips. Sherlock stared at the ceiling for a long while, eyes half lidded and brain working at twice its normal rate.

It was early morning and the good doctor needed to get himself ready for his hours at the clinic. that was his chore now. With sherlock not working a single case, he was stuck bringing in the extra money. Wearing the pants of this relationship. But it only seemed to bring more stress. How he had sick patients to deal with, along with Sherlock’s constant antics.

Coming down the stairs in nothing but his pyjamas, John stopped dead in his tracks as he noticed Sherlock laying there on the couch. He at least expected to be alone in the morning, but it seemed Sherlock was now staying downstairs at night. “Don’t you ever sleep?” He asked softly as he turned towards the kitchen. And that is when he saw it. The syringe sitting there on the counter as if it belonged. the first thing that came to mind was drugs. More specifically, cocaine. Walking over, he grabbed it to make his own deduction about what Sherlock had just injected into himself. “What the hell are you doing to yourself?! Drugs?! This early in the morning?”

Sherlock didn’t even bother to open his eyes, he let his lips fall open lazily and a soft sigh escaped him. “It has nothing to do with ‘morning’… It is merely continuing from last night”

There was a long stretch where Sherlock seemed about to say something. Instead he sat up and his eyes cracked open, as if it took all his effort to do so. “You seem so out of sorts, my dear Watson.” The sociopath steepled his fingers again and peered over his fingertips at the doctor. “I could fix that for you..” 

John’s brow instantly furrowed at the words. Damn it. What if Lestrade had one of his sudden ‘drug raids’ to see if Sherlock had more evidence? This syringe would not help at all. Without thinking, he grabbed the syringe in a cloth and tossed it in the trash. “I do not do any sort of drugs. All night? You do know cocaine can be addictive?”

Sherlock cracked open one eye and let out a slow, exasperated breath. He stood, moving fluidly, like his bones were made of water, it was almost an unorthodox dance. The sociopath moved at a slow pace to stand in front of John. “Very well. Stay in today. Keep me entertained.”

He held up his hands as if surrendering, “I promise no seduction. I know you like… females.” He let the last word hiss through his teeth, coated with disdain.

Having the taller man over him was very intimidating. But John was a soldier and did not show his uneasiness. He wasn’t exactly thrilled with the fact Sherlock was currently drugged out. “Seduction? I really did not expect you to be doing such a thing.” Pouring himself a cup of coffee, he turned to the side and shook his head. “I have to be off to the clinic today. Rent is due soon and I need to earn my share.” 

Sherlock moved again, trapping John between himself and the kitchen counter. The sociopath’s long arms gripped the counter top and his piercing eyes held the doctor in his place. “I’ve already called in. They were kind enough to give you the day off… You’ve been stressed lately.”

crackshotdoctor:

butineedanassistant:

crackshotdoctor:

butineedanassistant:

It had been far too long since he lost himself like this. He had not realized how much he missed the sensation of it all. Sherlock’s hands shook as he set aside the needle and unwrapped the band from his arm. Mmm yes… far too long.  

The man stretched out his legs, crossed his ankles and settled them onto the coffee table. He leaned back heavily against the back of the couch and steepled his fingers, pressing them to his lips. Sherlock stared at the ceiling for a long while, eyes half lidded and brain working at twice its normal rate.

It was early morning and the good doctor needed to get himself ready for his hours at the clinic. that was his chore now. With sherlock not working a single case, he was stuck bringing in the extra money. Wearing the pants of this relationship. But it only seemed to bring more stress. How he had sick patients to deal with, along with Sherlock’s constant antics.

Coming down the stairs in nothing but his pyjamas, John stopped dead in his tracks as he noticed Sherlock laying there on the couch. He at least expected to be alone in the morning, but it seemed Sherlock was now staying downstairs at night. “Don’t you ever sleep?” He asked softly as he turned towards the kitchen. And that is when he saw it. The syringe sitting there on the counter as if it belonged. the first thing that came to mind was drugs. More specifically, cocaine. Walking over, he grabbed it to make his own deduction about what Sherlock had just injected into himself. “What the hell are you doing to yourself?! Drugs?! This early in the morning?”

Sherlock didn’t even bother to open his eyes, he let his lips fall open lazily and a soft sigh escaped him. “It has nothing to do with ‘morning’… It is merely continuing from last night”

There was a long stretch where Sherlock seemed about to say something. Instead he sat up and his eyes cracked open, as if it took all his effort to do so. “You seem so out of sorts, my dear Watson.” The sociopath steepled his fingers again and peered over his fingertips at the doctor. “I could fix that for you..” 

John’s brow instantly furrowed at the words. Damn it. What if Lestrade had one of his sudden ‘drug raids’ to see if Sherlock had more evidence? This syringe would not help at all. Without thinking, he grabbed the syringe in a cloth and tossed it in the trash. “I do not do any sort of drugs. All night? You do know cocaine can be addictive?”

Sherlock cracked open one eye and let out a slow, exasperated breath. He stood, moving fluidly, like his bones were made of water, it was almost an unorthodox dance. The sociopath moved at a slow pace to stand in front of John. “Very well. Stay in today. Keep me entertained.”

He held up his hands as if surrendering, “I promise no seduction. I know you like… females.” He let the last word hiss through his teeth, coated with disdain.

crackshotdoctor:

butineedanassistant:

It had been far too long since he lost himself like this. He had not realized how much he missed the sensation of it all. Sherlock’s hands shook as he set aside the needle and unwrapped the band from his arm. Mmm yes… far too long.  

The man stretched out his legs, crossed his ankles and settled them onto the coffee table. He leaned back heavily against the back of the couch and steepled his fingers, pressing them to his lips. Sherlock stared at the ceiling for a long while, eyes half lidded and brain working at twice its normal rate.

It was early morning and the good doctor needed to get himself ready for his hours at the clinic. that was his chore now. With sherlock not working a single case, he was stuck bringing in the extra money. Wearing the pants of this relationship. But it only seemed to bring more stress. How he had sick patients to deal with, along with Sherlock’s constant antics.

Coming down the stairs in nothing but his pyjamas, John stopped dead in his tracks as he noticed Sherlock laying there on the couch. He at least expected to be alone in the morning, but it seemed Sherlock was now staying downstairs at night. “Don’t you ever sleep?” He asked softly as he turned towards the kitchen. And that is when he saw it. The syringe sitting there on the counter as if it belonged. the first thing that came to mind was drugs. More specifically, cocaine. Walking over, he grabbed it to make his own deduction about what Sherlock had just injected into himself. “What the hell are you doing to yourself?! Drugs?! This early in the morning?”

Sherlock didn’t even bother to open his eyes, he let his lips fall open lazily and a soft sigh escaped him. “It has nothing to do with ‘morning’… It is merely continuing from last night”

There was a long stretch where Sherlock seemed about to say something. Instead he sat up and his eyes cracked open, as if it took all his effort to do so. “You seem so out of sorts, my dear Watson.” The sociopath steepled his fingers again and peered over his fingertips at the doctor. “I could fix that for you..” 

It had been far too long since he lost himself like this. He had not realized how much he missed the sensation of it all. Sherlock’s hands shook as he set aside the needle and unwrapped the band from his arm. Mmm yes… far too long.  

The man stretched out his legs, crossed his ankles and settled them onto the coffee table. He leaned back heavily against the back of the couch and steepled his fingers, pressing them to his lips. Sherlock stared at the ceiling for a long while, eyes half lidded and brain working at twice its normal rate.

crackshotdoctor:

Jam was on sale. They even had my favorite.

Raspberry.

/smiles happily as he begins to put away all 25 jars of jam

Sherlock grumbles as he watches John move around jars of his ‘experiments’. “Those are very delicate.”