John doesn't expect to hear that. The laughter and the smile is gone immediately because of the pure surprise from what Sherlock blurts out, and his mind goes through jumps and leaps to even try and start making sense of it. It's not exactly something anyone would ever expect to hear, is it? Of course he's surprised.
And he stays absolutely still, doesn't move a muscle aside from blinking and maybe an occasional involuntary twitch here and there, his lips slightly parted and eyes wide and fixed firmly on Sherlock. He stays absolutely still and listens. Or tries to listen through the way all this somehow... muddles his mind in a way he can't explain. A buzz of confusion, maybe, something indescribable but very much there and kind of. In the way.
But he hears. Take him apart, put him back together, maybe after he's dead, and, no, it's not good. And that's not the worst. And John doesn't know what to think about it, how to react.
He probably should be running.
That's probably how he should react, isn't it? He should probably just... push off the wall, excuse himself, leave and never return. Which is also... far less tempting than it probably should be. Probably, probably, probably.
He should probably say something. Or perhaps that's only what he thinks he should do, instead of run away like anyone sensible would. So maybe he's not sensible at all, because he's still here and he has no idea how much time has passed but he's pretty sure he's just been staring at Sherlock for a good while now. Might just be imagination. But he should say something, anything. But what?
The first muscles that move are the ones in his throat as he swallows, followed by his tongue as he licks his lips. Something.
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John doesn't expect to hear that. The laughter and the smile is gone immediately because of the pure surprise from what Sherlock blurts out, and his mind goes through jumps and leaps to even try and start making sense of it. It's not exactly something anyone would ever expect to hear, is it? Of course he's surprised.
And he stays absolutely still, doesn't move a muscle aside from blinking and maybe an occasional involuntary twitch here and there, his lips slightly parted and eyes wide and fixed firmly on Sherlock. He stays absolutely still and listens. Or tries to listen through the way all this somehow... muddles his mind in a way he can't explain. A buzz of confusion, maybe, something indescribable but very much there and kind of. In the way.
But he hears. Take him apart, put him back together, maybe after he's dead, and, no, it's not good. And that's not the worst. And John doesn't know what to think about it, how to react.
He probably should be running.
That's probably how he should react, isn't it? He should probably just... push off the wall, excuse himself, leave and never return. Which is also... far less tempting than it probably should be. Probably, probably, probably.
He should probably say something. Or perhaps that's only what he thinks he should do, instead of run away like anyone sensible would. So maybe he's not sensible at all, because he's still here and he has no idea how much time has passed but he's pretty sure he's just been staring at Sherlock for a good while now. Might just be imagination. But he should say something, anything. But what?
The first muscles that move are the ones in his throat as he swallows, followed by his tongue as he licks his lips. Something.
"Oh."
Smooth. Deep. Clever. Excellent.
Shit.