Author's Notes: I have been reading a lot of submissive John fan fictions here lately. Like my earlier piece One Experiment too Far! I wondered what that conversation would be like if a real Sherlock and John had a conversation about some of that...errrr...whatever it is.
I thought this was funny I hope you all agree.
Warnings: Nothing explicit but it does mention some things in passing.
These reinvented characters belong to bbc! and Moffat and Gattis
John pushed back from the computer with a cry of disgust.
Sherlock was draped over the couch in his usual state of Shakespearian despair. He had not had anything keep his attention for five minutes now and he was nearing desolation.
"Reading your blog's fan fiction again?" He called with a bemused smile.
John crossed his arms staring at the laptop as if it was a slimy creature that crawled out of the bin and gave him a lick. "You won't believe what they are saying now!" he declared.
"Can you be disgusted and fix us a cuppa at the same time?" Sherlock inquired with a raised eyebrow.
John glowered and headed to the kitchen.
"I have no idea where they get these assumptions from!" he grumbled as he put the kettle on.
Sherlock turned so he could watch his flatmate putter about.
"Assumptions?" Sherlock encouraged, it looked as though he had found something to amuse him after all.
To his delight John's ears and the back of his neck turned red to match his cheeks. He pulled out two mugs as the kettle began to whistle divvying out the tea.
"They think we're lovers," he added as he began to pour.
"And?" Sherlock replied with a wry smile.
"And!" John finished, "they keep writing that I am...I dunno...submissive, I mean, I was in the bleeding army for God's sake, we followed orders but then again we shot people too. Now they seem to enjoy writing about me in a ball gag and the like, and you...well, it's too disgusting to say out loud"
He stirred the cups with jerky irritated rotations of the spoon.
"That is a strange deduction," Sherlock stated, "and I agree it's disturbing, by the way not so much milk this time, and more sugar."
He watched as John dutifully made the tea to his specifications. "I'm also a doctor, damn it, I order nurses, tests, tell patients what to do..."
"I think there are fresh biscuits in the tin, jammy dodgers and such, use the blue tray, I think the silver one's going to need disinfecting," Sherlock instructed, grinning as John opened the tin and sorted out a selection. "Sorry I interrupted...you were saying?"
"What I was saying," John replied as he put the cups of tea on the tray and brought everything over to the table, "Is that I might help you with your cases, and as such take your orders in aid of the greater good, but I'm not submissive to you. It's preposterous to even think it."
Sherlock smiled as he took his first sip of tea. "Oh absolutely," he agreed hiding his smile.
John glanced up and caught him at it, and then he watched as a replay of the entire conversation played through the man's not inconsequential intelligent mind. He saw the moment when John realized what Sherlock had been doing.
"Oh sod off..." he grumbled tossing a pillow and nailing his flatmate in his smug face with the unerring accuracy of a marksman.