Drinking Game {The Consulting Detective, JohnHWatson}

John couldn't hide his grin at Sherlock's answer. He'd been expecting it, but all the same... Knowing that he'd picked John for marriage surely showed a huge level of trust. Or maybe John was looking into this too deeply - it was only a game after all.

He brought himself back into the present.
"Oh. That couple over there? Alright." John stared over at them for a good long while, his eyes narrowed. He was finding this one difficult. There was mixed body language coming from both.
"They're not a couple yet. They're dating? It looks like new love because they wouldn't be that close in a pub if they had been committed to each other for any length of time - they would be more relaxed. The woman is more into the man than the man is into the woman. She keeps flicking her hair. He's not displaying signs of flirtation whatsoever. But he does maintain eye conta-"
John stopped, realising he was wrong. He'd missed the vital evidence. They had weddings rings.
With a sigh, John brought the drink up to his lips. He glanced at Sherlock over the rim of the glass. "I was wrong. They're bloody married."

"Yeah, you are wrong. But not completely." He looked at the couple. "You see, they are married, but not with each other. They are having an affair with each other. The woman made this appointment with him, but he is doubting whether this is a good idea or not. He probably is checking all the things he said to his wife, things he left at home, clues he may have left. They know each other from work. The man is her boss and according to their clothing, he in a suit and she in a tight skirt with a neat blouse, they met here after finishing work. He is not very insisting with her, so she wants promotion by flirting with him."

He sighed and looked at John again. He pulled his arms out of the sleeves of his coat, stretching his torso, not aware of the poor buttons of his shirt. "Your turn. What depths would you like to explore now?"

He watched the whole time as Sherlock deduced the lives of the couple, his eyes flickering from Sherlock to the cheating pair sitting by the fireplace. As each deduction spilled from the detective's lips, John nodded to himself, realising that if you properly observed... the evidence was obvious. It was so typical of Sherlock. Everything was there. It was easy. But to John, well, he only ever looked on the surface of things. It didn't make him stupid. But he just saw. Sherlock observed with finesse.

"The depths can be left unexplored for a moment," John said, busy musing. He thought he'd ramp up the dares this time. "Flirt with the bartender. Go on, I want to see if you have any prowess in that area. Or maybe I just want to be amused. By the way, he couldn't stop staring at those poor buttons on your shirt. Why don't you just go a size up?" John sort of wish he hadn't said that. The shirts suited Sherlock brilliantly.

"You may think I don't know how to go on about it, flirting. I have no experience, but don't forget that I am the most observant man in London alive." Sherlock looked at John, head down, peeking through his eyelashes. "I am not going to resign this one, I'm not passing an opportunity for experimenting, so... are you sure?"

John absent-mindedly licked his lower lip when Sherlock peeked up through his lashes with a questioning glance.
"Of course I'm sure. I'm..." John shrugged. "-interested. Besides, I've never seen you flirt."
It was no way as simple as that and John knew it. He was more than interested. He was positively intrigued. He couldn't say why though, for even he didn't know.

"Alright."

Sherlock grabbed a coaster and wrote his phone number on it. He then positioned himself with his hand under his chin, staring laterally at the bartender. It was just a matter of time until he caught his eye contact. Sherlock broke it looking at the ground with no goal, a small smile on his lips.

The second time he caught his eye contact, Sherlock took a sip of his drink through the straw, sucking the alcohol in his system. He sat very straight, now fully aware of his shirt. He saw the bartender blushing and running his eyes over his body. All Sherlock wanted to do is burst out in laughter, because this was going very well and it was highly amusing.

The third time their eyes locked, Sherlock nodded at the bartender to come his way. When he stood before Sherlock, Sherlock got up from his stool and bent over to the bartender. He whispered something in his ear and handed the coaster over. Sherlock brushed his fingers over his for a moment before seating himself again. "Another drink, please... Carlos" Sherlock smirked and winked at Carlos, the bartender.

((can you maybe fill in Carlos's actions better? I don't want to control everything ))

The flirting wasn't the problem. The flirting was good - it was clearly working. John found himself unable to watch for too long. It was that intense... and just a little... weird to see Sherlock behaving in that way. John didn't think him capable. Sherlock was too successful. Was there anything that man couldn't do? When John glimpsed the gentle brush of the two men's fingers, he coughed loudly to try and diffuse the atmosphere - he didn't want it building up more than it already was. "Well done, you..." John muttered. "That flirting was far too realistic to even be amusing."

Carlos, on the other hand, was elated. He looked at the coaster then winked back in return. He was ignoring all the other punters who were asking for their refills, and instead kept his eyes trained onto Sherlock's body. The whole time he just couldn't stop grinning that pearly white smile. That gorgeous friend of Dr Watson's was actually interested?

John huffed in irritation and drank heavily from his glass, regardless of the rules of the game.

((Uh huh. ))

Sherlock looked at John again after his innuendo with Carlos. He frowned, smile fading from his lips. John was upset. The way he had coughed at their touch. Sitting uncomfortable on the stool, eyes not meeting, diverting gaze at everything around me but my face. Didn't find it amusing anymore, too realistic. Was he... jealous?

"Not very difficult. He fancies me, obviously. It would be a greater challenge to flirt with someone who is not in heaven of me from first sight." Sherlock looked around and finally rested his gaze on John "Someone like.. you, for example."


((Ah, I love this <3))

John felt disgruntled. His eyes were still averted, for the situation wasn't getting any easier.
However when Sherlock made that last statement, John glanced up, suddenly alert. Discomfort rose up like bile. He felt as if Sherlock was reading his mind - the detective had that effect on people. It was the iciness of his stare that could seem so piercing and intrusive when his eyes were on you.
John took a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding, then sighed. "That would be more of a challenge, would it, Sherlock? Then maybe that should be my, er, next dare for you. To attempt to flirt with... me."


[[I have a lot of love for this too. <3]]

"You could." Sherlock tried to sound neutral. It would definitely be very interesting to see if he would succeed with John. He hoped John would ask him. Oh, he loved this game!

"Now it's my turn." Sherlock did not at all feel uncomfortable and looked around. "I'd like you to deduce... that girl over there." He pointed at a young girl standing at a table, phone in hand, clearly waiting on somebody. Boyfriend? No. She wore flat shoes and not a dress and her accessories were scarce. She looked kind of grim, with her combed hair covering one eye. He was interested of what John would make of it.

John turned round on his bar stool and looked at the girl, taking in her appearance and her manner of standing. She seemed introverted and a little cut off from the world. Now and again her eyes would dart around. She was expecting someone then, surely?
"She possibly has low self-esteem, because she's hiding most of her face behind her hair..." John guessed, keeping his voice low. "She doesn't look too well-dressed, so she can't be here for a date. I reckon she's here against her will. Perhaps somebody has forced her to meet them here. Either that or she's received bad news of some kind... Or maybe she's new in town and a bit... I don't know... lost?"
John exhaled heavily, frustrated with himself. "Go on then, deduce for me. I really can't see anything more than I've already mentioned."
He knew he probably wasn't observing hard enough, but he found himself secretly impatient to move onto Sherlock's dare.

Sherlock looked at John from the corners of his eyes while he was deducing. He observed John's profile with great interest. In his mind he traced the line of his sandy hair, his frowns, his brow, his eyes, his nose, his lips to his chin and saved the image in the John Room of his Mind Palace. When John was done, he shook his head slightly and focused on the girl.

"You did not do so bad, honestly. She is here to meet someone. Not a date, I agree with you. And not willingly either. I think she is meeting a relative, I presume. She is not used to a pub in any way, no. Regarding to her shoelaces, she likes to skate and is not afraid of mud. She is into some youngsters-scene, look how she dresses herself." Sherlock pouted and cocked one eyebrow. His deductions were plain and very low-surfaced. He didn't feel like deducing her, really. She was incredibly dull. He huffed, made a trowing gesture at the girl and set his I-am-terribly-bored-face on.

"Oh, well she's dull. Go on then with your dare. I know what you are going to ask, but let me hear you say it to be absolutely clear about the rules." Sherlock shifted in his chair, eager to take the next challenge. Too eager?

While oblivious to Sherlock's probing stare, John had tried his best to deduce the girl, and as ever his deductions couldn't quite match up to those of his flat mates's.
He turned to look at Sherlock now, seeing a certain light in the other man's bright blue eyes - eagerness and excitement were evident in his expression. It wasn't dissimilar to how he looked when a thrilling new case was mentioned.
John was feeling ever so slightly uncomfortable now that the time had arrived for his dare suggestion. He swallowed thickly and tapped his fingers on the bar for a moment, buying time. His eyes met with Sherlock's reluctantly as he stated the 'rules'.
"Well, since you said it was easy enough to flirt with the bartender, maybe you'd find it an interesting challenge to attempt to... flirt with me. Um, I'm not as easily won over as Carlos, just so you know." John smirked, thoroughly amused and also thankful that he'd had a bit to drink by this point. He'd have been a bag of nerves otherwise.

"Ok... I agree to these terms." Sherlock said, as if this was a computer game with which you have to agree to custom terms on beforehand. "I have just a little adaption to make, which is as follows: This is a challenge not easily and quickly finished, so it will continue the whole rest of the evening, overlapping the challenges to come. Do you agree with that?"

Sherlock didn't really wait for a response. He got ready with more shifting on his stool. He steepled his fingers together and set them again against his lips under his nose, scrutinising John's face. He was not going to be the first to look away. He did not let his gaze drop or divert to a trivial thing. He only focused on John as if he could touch him with his gaze.

"I am tired of deducing" He stated with his low, baritone voice. "I've got some questions for you."

"Good idea, I agree entirely," John replied. Now this really would be interesting. There would be challenges happening with the promise of something deeper going on in the background. Tension was heightening in the atmosphere - especially as Sherlock seemed to be staring directly into John's eyes with no apparent sign of letting up. John glanced towards the floor quickly before returning his gaze to Sherlock.
He decided to sit up straighter - composed and prepared. He wasn't going to let this make him uncomfortable, although admittedly he was getting a bit hot under the collar.
"You've got questions? Go ahead, I'm all ears."

Sherlock suppressed a smirk. John had been the first to look down, as expected.
Sherlock closed his eyes for a second, gathering the right words. When he opened them, he slid his fingers over his lips, down to the bar, his forearm resting on the bar. He narrowed his gaze and finally spoke, again in the voice that worked so well on Carlos. (But then, everything worked on Carlos)
"Why are you dating those incredibly boring women?" Sherlock huffed in incomprehension. "You could do better."
He widened his sight again, still looking at John
"Much better."

"They're not that boring. Besides, everyone's boring to you. It's just that they're not particularly exciting."
John continued to watch Sherlock, his head tilted very slightly. He was focusing on a point just above his eyes to avoid the discomfort of direct intensity. The way Sherlock had slid his fingers over his lips was far more tempting than John would ever admit. And that voice...

"If I really could do better then I would have found better by now. I'm nearly 40, for God's sake. Look, I date these women, but it just... it never works. I need excitement as well as commitment but I simply can't find it. Excitement and commitment don't exactly go hand in hand, Sherlock. I don't expect you to understand. You're not a genius in that area."
John picked up his drink and took a sip, then another, and then another. After placing the glass back down, he licked his lips and followed with a shrug. "I need to keep dating though. I need a stable relationship at my age. Can't chase criminals with you forever."

"You're not boring." Sherlock murmured in response. It was true. John was far from ordinary. He liked him, respected and was still with him. He was not like those ordinary men who ran away from 'the freak'.

"Indeed I don't understand..." Sherlock was distracted by John's lips as he licked them. He blamed the minimum stir he felt in his stomach on the alcohol.

Sherlock's gaze dropped to the floor. The minimal stir in his stomach got bigger and painful, not the pleasant stir he had before. It hurt. The thought of John leaving him hurt. The thought of being left alone, again, hurt. He didn't want John to leave. Not in the world. Sherlock unconsciously sighed sorrowfully and asked: "No? Isn't it the same as our relationship? Commitment and excitement?" He raised his eyebrows, still staring at a tile of the floor.

((Sherly's heart is broken D:))

"'Relationship' is sort of the wrong word to describe you and I, Sherlock. We're friends. We have a good, er, friendship. Even if we do annoy each other sometimes." John took a shuddering breath and yet another sip of his drink. Who was he kidding? He looked at Sherlock, studying his features and taking advantage of the fact that his friend was staring at the floor, an expression on his face not unlike a kicked puppy. John was disgusted that people couldn't stand Sherlock... that people actually ran away from him. A man of that level of intelligence should be praised, not hated. John suspected they were jealous. After all, Scotland Yard and everybody else were incompetent and Sherlock Holmes was extraordinary. So extraordinary... so fantastic... so...
John stopped his train of thought and nudged Sherlock's leg with his own. "We give each other commitment and excitement, yeah. But y'know, it's not the same... It really isn't the same thing. With a woman I'd have more. It'd be more, um, intimate."


[[John loves him really! You'll see. <3]]

At John's nudge, Sherlock sat straight again, alert and in the present. Well, at least as alert as the alcohol in his system would allow him. He was quite alcohol resistant, but not immune. He was far from getting drunk, though he could feel it a little bit.

Let's plant some devious, naughty thoughts in his mind. Sherlock thought. He raised an eyebrow, smirked and looked at him with a knowing look. He took his drink, took a sip and licked a rolling drop from the corner of his mouth. While behaving like this, he thought of the possibilities that the words John - intimate could imply. Sherlock swallowed. He suddenly had a vision: getting home - drunk - both not aware of personal space - wall, coat off - hands on my - Stop. Now. Focus on the current situation. It's no good fantasizing when you are supposed to be in the present. Especially when there is a chance that it might be the future, which you wouldn't mind at all, would you? a nagging thought added.

He didn't say anything, gave no sign of the thoughts, and just looked at John with that playful smile.The words "Well, it could be" hung in the air, but he didn't say them out loud. At length he said: "It's time for my dare."


{{YEAH! }}
{{Not unlike a kicked puppy XD hahahahahahaha You got me laughing there :')}}

John had a difficult time trying to tear his eyes away from Sherlock's lips at this point - the way they were parted, the way his tongue brushed the corner of his mouth so delicately. John had to grit his teeth and force himself to look away. Surely it was obvious now to somebody as observant as Sherlock, that John was feeling just a little turned on.
But how? This is Sherlock... my sociopathic flat mate, not some beautiful female date.
John was worried that if he clenched his glass any harder, it'd shatter within his hand. The tension that was building up inside his body had to be diffused by other means.
"Right... yeah, your dare." John still didn't make eye contact. It would make him lose all ability to think straight if he saw Sherlock's playful smirk right now. "I dare you to show me what you think 'intimacy' means."
Sure, this was a giant leap, and he didn't expect Sherlock to comply. But the mixture of daring and alcohol had given John some weird kind of courage.

[[Aha! Yeah, I was thinking of that kicked puppy look when John doesn't want the coffee in 'The Hounds of Baskerville' and Sherlock is all like ]]

Sherlock observed John's reaction. Looking away - clenched jaw - a frolicking, restless gaze - frequent swallowing - neck muscles tense, hmmm nice neck muscles... Sherlock pressed his eyelids together very firmly. He had to stop himself again, ignored his side way of thought and continued his deduction. So. Yeah. Muscles tense, clearly a sign of an uncomfortable feeling causing tension. One glance on John's lower area and Sherlock's eyes opened wider. Oh.
The coin fell.

At first he was startled by his request. John normally was the man of subtle approach and Sherlock the blunt one. But this was a nice surprise.
And of course he was willing to do this. The alcohol encouraged his adventureous temperament and he felt like he could complete any challenge that was thrown at him.
The second thought was: Is this a good idea? But then, John had asked for it, so: yes. That showed a certain level of willingness.
The third thing on his mind was: making a plan.

Sherlock decided to start off slowly. He leaned forward next to John's ear and said for the second time that evening: "Are you absolutely sure?" while sliding his hand up John's thigh.

It was the observing that Sherlock was doing right now that had John quivering from head to toe. Knowing that the man in front of him was watching his every move… seeing every little sign… it was addictive and no longer uncomfortable. Maybe the alcohol was working quicker than he’d thought. Everything now seemed like a good idea. Anything now seemed like a good idea. He didn’t know whether he’d regret it in the morning, but John tilted his head a little when Sherlock leaned in, the detective’s silky voice prompting John to close his eyes and let his lips part involuntarily. It was the touch on the thigh that really did it, though. It was so unexpected and yet just so good. John’s eyes flew open in shock and he caught the amused gaze of Carlos over Sherlock's shoulder - he was winking at him from the other side of the bar and giving him the thumbs-up.
John turned his head, his lips close to Sherlock's ear. “Yes, yes I’m sure. Um… Sherlock… let’s get back to the flat…” John muttered, his voice sounding embarrassingly urgent. He tried to keep his tone low, but the eagerness in his eyes must have shone through for all to see. “Please…”

Sherlock jumped on the inside when he heard John's voice so close to his ear. He liked that his words were drenched with urgency and obviously showing his ... 'desire'? He chuckled, his hand now sliding under his jacket which was still folded on John's lap, resting his hand on his thighs. "Of course, " he paused and blurted "... if I can wait that long."

Since when did that happen? He never blurted out such... edgy talk. He would never say something so irrational. But then... since when did he go to pubs with John? he thought by himself.
Was he still flirting for the challenge, or flirted he intentionally for his own purposes? He decided that it didn't matter. He only wanted to think about how he could seduce John for the challenge, but his mind was clouded with John's voice, his scent, his... And there was the annoying logical voice in his head again. He pushed it away with the excuse that he needed that kind of data for the challenge, though he knew he lied to himself.

He retreated from his current position and saw that John's pupils were slightly dilated. The annoying logical voice screamed in alarm, saying that it wasn't a good idea at all, but he didn't listen. He wondered if his pupils were dilated too. He grabbed John's jacket and helped him into it before turning to Carlos with an apologetic smile. He handed him the money, but didn't wait for the change. Sherlock slipped into his coat and adjusted his scarf before grabbing John by the hand and heading to the exit.

John was trembling now and he knew if he so much as spoke a single word his voice would be embarrassingly breathy. He didn't want to give away his blatant desire, but he feared it was too late. Sherlock knew - John could tell by the look on his face. When his flat mate eventually grabbed his hand, John quickly placed his drink on the bar and followed him out, erupting into his usual high-pitched giggles once they had exited the small building. "Now people will definitely, definitely talk."

Once outside, they hailed a cab over and John quickly glanced up at the darkening sky. The stars were out... even through the London smog they could be seen. The moonlight seemed to illuminate Sherlock's gorgeous features in ways that made them more prominent and more beautiful than ever. The atmosphere became even more tense when John looked back down and realised he was still holding Sherlock's hand. He couldn't believe this was happening. Him and Sherlock... tipsy on alcohol and holding hands. Not only that, but he had excitement running through his veins at a rate much faster than it did even in the army.


In the cab, John inhaled slowly and breathed out through his mouth, calming himself - or trying to. He cast desperate glances over to Sherlock now and again, secretly hoping the other man would keep to his word and complete his dare.