Title: Hold It Against Me
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: John/Sherlock
Wordcount: ~1,400
Warnings: none
Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock, and I do not make any money from this fanwork.
Summary: Sherlock wages a campaign against John. It involves the requisite statements of interest (as gleaned from the internet), affectionate monikers, and properly packaging and labelling his experiments. John, as always, patiently waits out the craziness.

Sherlock stares at his computer screen. He does not understand how any of these ridiculous statements could possibly win John's affections. However, he does not understand much about these softer emotions, and he will just have to trust that John understands he is making an effort. Sherlock hits Print, clears his browser history, and grabs the sheet of paper.

He heads to his room to practice. Sherlock does not want Mrs. Hudson to hear, after all.


"John," Sherlock says, clenching his hands into fists.

It will be fine. He practiced all afternoon. Sherlock will get this right.

"Yes?" John responds, looking up from where he is typing at his laptop.

"I'm attracted to you like the Earth is attracted to the Sun - with a large force inversely proportional to the distance squared," Sherlock tells him, voice steady and at a decibel within his normal range.

John blinks at him.

Sherlock blinks back. He thought he delivered that rather well.

"I thought the solar system wasn't important?" John questions.



"Hmm..." Sherlock mumbles, flopping down on the sofa. He should have realized that the statement must be personally relevant to be effective.

"If I'm a pain in your ass, we can just add more lubricant," he tells John, purposefully nonchalant.

John's eyes go wide and he chokes a little on his tea. John really should be more careful when he's eating and drinking. Sherlock makes a mental note to learn the proper medical procedure to perform in the event of serious airway blockage. That information might be useful.

"Sherlock..." John says, a bit tentatively, after a beat. "I'm sorry I called you a pain in my ass this morning. I didn't mean it. You're my friend, and I should have more patience with you."

Sherlock nods, satisfied. That statement was much more effective. He lies back on the sofa and contemplates John calling him "friend". It is certainly a start.

He is also satisfied that John agreed to have patience with him. It is a good sign that John understands he is trying.


"You make my anoxic sediments want to increase their redox potential," Sherlock tells the mirror.

No, that won't do. Not at all.

"Whenever I am near you, I undergo anaerobic respiration because you take my breath away," Sherlock tries.

He glares down at the sheet of paper in his hand. John is not happy when Sherlock tells him that breathing is boring. That one won't work.

"If I flip a coin, what are my chances of getting head?" he says, trying to sound enthusiastic.

Really, what does probability have to do with anything? If John doesn't know the answer is "depends on if the coin is fair", Sherlock really needs to teach him more of his methods.

"Damn, if being sexy was a crime, you'd be guilty as charged!" he murmurs softly.

Closer. It relates to crime, and John enjoys crime. Well, solving crime. So he likely will not appreciate being called a criminal.

Sherlock sighs and drops the paper. John is downstairs. He wants to be downstairs with John, rather than practicing all these foolish statements that are supposed to help indicate his interest to John.

He can practice more later.


"If I said you had a beautiful body, would you hold it against me? Be unique and different, say yes," Sherlock tells John when his friend comes into the kitchen the next morning, still all rumpled and soft from sleep.

"I'm not saying 'yes' to anything until after my first cuppa," John murmurs, blinking at him blearily.

Too early.

Sherlock waits dutifully until John is fully awake.

"There is something wrong with my cell phone. It doesn't have your number in it," he says, taking a bite of the toast John sets in front of him.

John smiles softly, pleased because Sherlock is eating. Maybe Sherlock should eat more often when John offers food, if it would make him happy and more amenable to his affections. Then John frowns a bit. It is his 'I'm slightly confused but do not want to admit it because I am afraid you will call me an idiot' face. Sherlock is unaccountably charmed by that expression.

"Sherlock, you have my mobile number memorised. You don't keep any important numbers in your contacts. And why did you just call it a cell phone? Are you practicing your American slang again?" he questions curiously.

"Hmm..." Sherlock humms. It is his default answer when John asks a question he doesn't want to answer. John is used to it. He's patient, like he agreed, and just shakes his head in a blatant display of fond exasperation before going upstairs to get ready for the clinic.

After John heads out the door, Sherlock texts him.

You are like a chocolate bar: half sweet and half nuts. S.

John responds quickly enough.

You're just nuts.

Sherlock thinks candy bars and nuts are a good combination.


"I know milk does a body good, but baby, how much have you been drinking?" Sherlock asks John over dinner. Well, John is eating dinner (Thai, this time). Sherlock is drinking water and stealing noodles from John's plate. John pretends that he minds, but Sherlock knows his friend is glad he is eating something.

John blinks at him in a sort of confused affection.

"First: you know exactly how much milk I drink. You either directly observe me drinking milk, or you somehow notice even if you don't directly observe. Second: did you just call me baby?" his friend asks, a bit incredulous.

Sherlock strikes 'baby' from his list of possible affectionate monikers. He will have to try 'sweetheart' and 'firecracker' later. It is not an issue. He simply switches the conversation to the blatant incompetence demonstrated by Anderson at the last crime scene.

John still looks a tad confused, but he goes along with the conversation. He almost always does.


It has been five days, and Sherlock has not observed a significant change in their relationship. John has not been touching him statistically significantly more than the norm Sherlock recorded control data from before the implementation of the statements to gauge their efficiency.

Also, John is slightly angry with him. Sherlock put the milk on the counter because he needed to make room for a specimen, and temporarily forgot about it. Later, when he saw it on the counter, he returned it to the fridge because John always scolded him for leaving it out.

It spoiled.

John poured himself a glass and raised it to his lips. John then proceeded to spit his sip a sizeable distance before swishing water in his mouth and spitting that out too (in the sink, that time). His friend was cranky because he had woken up from a moderately bad nightmare. Not Afghanistan, Sherlock can always tell right away when John has nightmares of Afghanistan. But still, a bad enough nightmare to put John in a foul mood. He didn't even mention the spoiled milk to Sherlock, but he could tell from the way John stomped around as he was getting ready for work that his friend was annoyed.

It is worse when John doesn't yell at him. At least when John yells at him, 82 percent of the time Sherlock can make a quip that defuses the tension and John's anger. Now John is just quiet and quietly annoyed.

No, Sherlock doesn't like it.


Sherlock watches John open the refrigerator.

John closes it.

John opens it again.

Sherlock frowns. He's fairly certain there is nothing in there that should make John react that way. He packaged and clearly labelled all his experiments before putting them in the crisper where John did not often look.

"Sherlock, did you... buy milk?" John asks. His voices sounds odd.

"Yes," Sherlock replies from his chair. "I put it away as soon as I returned home, so it should be acceptable for human consumption."

John walks over to Sherlock, bends down, and kisses him. Sherlock, of course, enthusiastically kisses back. He is not quite sure why John is kissing him now, because he has not even made one of the requisite statements.

There will be time to contemplate that later.


"Why did you kiss me?" Sherlock questions later, curled up with John on the sofa.

"Are you complaining?" his... more-than-friend teases.

"No. I wish to replicate the results," he answers honestly.

John stifles a little giggle, shaking his head before leaning it on Sherlock's shoulder.

"You bought the milk, without complaining or bragging. It was a nice gesture, and I appreciated it. I know how much you hate going to the Tesco's," John replies.

Sherlock wraps his arms around John, and contemplates the possibility of developing an erotic association with grocery shopping. Very likely, if John reacts similarly every time Sherlock attempts it.

Sherlock finds he doesn't mind.