AU! No summary so far. It's about music, show business and a new life after a disaster. John+Sherlock. Slowburn.
https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14237516/1/Soft-silk-is-hard-to-tearhttps://archiveofourown.org/works/47086126Emil, thanks for the preliminary reading.
Molly Hooper stood at Mrs. Hudson's doorstep and glared with anger at the media.
"Instead of stopping people from working, write about what bad products are in food banks. Or about the monstrously long lines at free clinics. But you need a brain for this, and not everyone has it." Molly turned proudly, entered the house, and closed the door.
"You are very brave," John said from the top of the stairs. "And kind."
"The trifles." Molly went up to the landing, took the letters from the table in the hallway, quickly looked through them as she entered the living room, and went to the table.
John sat down in a chair, took his laptop, and checked the donations. Together with the military disability pension, this is enough to pay for the room and John's share of the cost of food — he paid for the room himself, and he and Sherlock shared the food equally. Luckily, Sherlock wasn't picky, so he didn't mind simple, healthy food.
And it's time to admit that the time of quiet sitting in the shelter is over. John likes London again; he is interested in writing about it and inventing fantastic stories about its streets and parks. John needs a job in London. And, preferably, part-time, so that there is time for writing stories. John should call Sholto and say that he has to transfer the doctor, whom Sholto hired for a few days to replace John, full-time.
John looked at Molly's deft handling of the targeting programme for Sherlock's website.
"Do you work for him because the main thing for you is to write fanfiction or draw paintings?" John asked. "Will you show your work?"
"Did he tell you about it?" Molly got angry.
"No. Unrequited love is the thing for lazy, egocentric people who need to satisfy their hormones but, at the same time, they do not want to work on relationships and do not want to even for a moment take their minds off admiring their experiences and think about interacting with the feelings of others. Molly wanted to protest, but John got ahead of her.
Molly wanted to protest, but John got ahead of her.
"However, you are hardworking and kind. So you have some business that completely absorbs your attention. And you don't want to break away from him for a boyfriend or kids. And Sherlock is a fuel for your works."
Molly sighed softly. It was both indignation and an understanding that the doctor was right. And he said:
"Working for him leaves a lot of free time and allows you not to worry about paying bills. Your business doesn't generate income, but you are happy with it, and you don't care what others think about it. You are very brave and strong. And smart. Not everyone can arrange their lives so well according to their own taste."
Molly didn't know what to say. Her feelings were diametrically opposed: rage and gratitude.
She preferred to shrug her shoulders and get to work. But her thoughts were far from monitoring the network. All Molly had to do was set up the utilities for a specific task and run them, so she could think carefully about whether she should continue to meet with Moriarty. He is so sweet and kind. But she can't be a good wife to him because she's married to her comic book.
Tom hates Sherlock so much and wants to take revenge on him only because he thinks that his romance with Molly fell apart because of him. But in fact, Molly ran away from Tom's house to Sherlock's apartment because a graphics tablet was waiting for her there, and Sherlock never noticed what she was doing or whether she existed at all. He even did her secretarial work for her if he saw that she was very involved in a difficult moment in her comic. And Molly loves Sherlock for that.
She also likes Sherlock's unbridled desire to show off his genius, when he tells Molly what a goat or a bore her new boyfriend really is. It looks like jealousy. But at the same time, she can't be afraid that Sherlock will demand that Molly should belong only to him — and then it would have to greatly reduce the time spent with the comic and the number of very inspiring and random sexual adventures.
[God,] Molly thought. [I'm an absolute pervert.]
[Not everyone can arrange their lives so well according to their own taste,] John's voice sounded in her head.
Molly looked at John, who was poking at the keys of his laptop with his two fingers intently, even making his lips pipe, solving such a difficult task as wrestling with the keyboard.
And Molly suddenly realised that this man had become her best friend. He understood her like no one else in the world.
***
Sherlock realised that he would hate his songs soon. John loves them more than Sherlock!
But no one needs Sherlock at all without songs. More precisely, John isn't interested — Sherlock didn't care about the rest of humanity.
[William, don't waste your time with all your circle of people.] Mummy's voice sounded in his head.
"Get out!" Sherlock bared his teeth.
[William, don't grimace! Your face is ugly enough on its own.]
[Don't be sad, buddy!] Sherlock heard Uncle Rudy chuckle. [The most seductive beauty consists only of ugliness. Look how many women are ready to throw themselves on the necks of Belmondo and Celentano. Even your mother is crazy about them!]
Sherlock took a good look at himself in the mirror above the fireplace in his living room. He succeeded in creating the most seductive temptation out of ugliness. Almost everyone falls in love with Sherlock. John is in love too; it's obvious.
But John's kisses belong to Dimmock. Or a nurse. Or anyone he met who caught John's attention: Sherlock didn't imagine that someone could refuse him. But on the other hand, Sherlock is able to distract John from a date by inviting him to take up the song. John loves his songs. John was looking at Sherlock at that moment, so that it made him burn with desire. No one else could do this to Sherlock. Only John.
Sherlock slipped his hands under the robe he wore over his naked body, stroking his belly and chest.
[William, only low creatures wear a morning gown outside the bedroom.]
Sherlock proudly stalked over to the couch and collapsed onto it in a big way.
John loves this garment! He always gets a little embarrassed when he sees Sherlock with it.
[William, the only things that are valuable and important are those for which your appearance doesn't matter. You're good at chemistry and math. Focus on that.]
It's wonderful that John doesn't care about all the chemistry and math that don't apply to the patient's prescription. He admires Sherlock's music.
At the thought of what a grandiose upset happened to Mummy at this news, Sherlock flew up into the clouds without drugs.
[William, you must introduce your chosen one to the family. It was cruel and dishonourable of you to show your parents as homophobic. Your father and I are not happy that you will not give a continuation to the Holmes family. Since Mycroft is too busy serving his country, it has become your responsibility. But we are here for progress. And the most important thing for us is the happiness of our children. When are you bringing John Watson to the family dinner?]
"When hell freezes," Sherlock hissed. "We'll come to you on ice skates."
The best way to get rid of a lover is to introduce him to Mrs. Holmes. This is a guarantee that he will run away from you faster than you say the word "Hello!".
[William, the word "hello" is…]
Sherlock dismissed her image with a wave of his hand. And looked around the room with tenderness. This apartment was not only ideally comfortable for Sherlock but also became the perfect scarecrow for Mrs. Holmes: she could not remain here for more than half an hour a year. And then in the company of a father who believed that it was impossible for decent gentry not to visit their sons at least once a year.
The cunning Eurus sat first with her uncle on a tropical island, then on student campuses in France and the US, then in the disaster sites of Africa and South America — in all three cases, parents would not even come close to such places. Sherlock wasn't drawn to it either, but he sometimes thought it was a good hideout. And before returning to England, Eurus said via an online connection that Uncle Rudy was always her father, his housekeeper was her mother, and the only thing she wants to know about the rest of the family is where their graves will be to spit on them.
The most interesting thing is that Mummy didn't even think that she must be upset. She was glad that the source of the former grandiose problem would never remind itself of itself. There is nothing to say about his father; his fear of Eurus is even greater than Mycroft's.
But if the mother came into Sherlock's memories at all and lingers there so stubbornly, it means that Sherlock has made a huge, fatal mistake somewhere.
And he could only make a mistake in his relationship with John. But how and where? John is his ideal inspiration, the missing part of his soul, the ideal embodiment of his songs, he sings no worse than Sherlock himself. Or better?
Smugness and vanity immediately rebelled, but Sherlock kicked them under the guest armchair. They are useful for communicating with the rest of humanity, especially Mycroft, but John is an exception. Smugness and vanity will have a voice when Sherlock completely owns John and it's time to be proud of such a trophy — the most valuable in the entire universe.
John walked from the hallway into the kitchen. He was loaded with supermarket bags. Again, John decided to cook himself because it was more economical. Boredom!
John sorted his purchases into cupboards and the refrigerator and went up to his room. Soon he came downstairs, already in a fresh turtleneck and new jeans.
"Why are you hobnobbing with Dimmock when I'm there?" Sherlock asked bluntly.
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