Boyfriend Development Program

"They asked me to bring a sentence."

Limping brothers Sam and Dean to the door (never count on Sherlock, history has warned him countless times), John turned back to the living room with a rather strange expression on his face.Hearing this, Sherlock lowered the curtains, turned around, stared at John quietly with his gray-green pupils, and beckoned him to continue.

"'This is a game'." The little man sat on the sofa and repeated the words of the two brothers.

"Oh!" Sherlock replied rather calmly, "Interesting."

——I knew it would be this facial paralysis expression!

John slandered from the bottom of his heart, and then asked in confusion, "A game? What game?"

"Crack the case."

"Oh my God, solve the case?... They?" In John's surprised whisper, the curly-haired boy jumped back to his exclusive sofa, with a morbid excitement on his pale face: "Don't be small Look at them, John, they're tougher than anyone we've met so far."

"Uh, harder to deal with than doctor?"

"No, no, doctor is different." Sherlock grunted, picked up the ice-cold coffee on the coffee table, and took a sip, the cold liquid slid down his throat, making his words even more subdued , "John, doctor doesn't need to be used for comparison. Time Lord." The last two words are eloquent. Sherlock stared at the brown liquid in the mug, lost in thought, not knowing what he was thinking about.

Time Lords, Aliens, Parallel Space...

Game consoles, ogres, imitators...

will, jack, daniel...

John looked at his good roommate who was sinking into the palace of thinking in front of him, and then looked at the metal crutch lying aside, and smiled softly: "London, well, I always feel that London is a bit strange recently...well, I I mean, it's not peaceful."

Sherlock raised his head and glanced at the little man: "Uneasy? Interesting."

John's eyes fell on his old gray pullover, he wanted to say something, but he didn't know where to start.He wanted to ask Sherlock what the future man revealed, why he didn't travel with Sherlock in the future, what is the progress of the case now, who is Jack... Also, has Sherlock had the slightest hint these days? Thinking of himself... There are many, many questions he wants to ask, but those words are like a huge boulder, stuck in his throat, unable to advance or retreat. John opened his mouth, but finally fell silent, trying his best to maintain a calm expression on his face.

In the living room, the light gradually dimmed, and fell on the small man, drawing a circle of deep and shallow dark outlines.

Sherlock looked up at John, took a sip of coffee, and looked up at the good doctor again.He put down the coffee cup in his hand, crossed his hands, and rested his chin on the coffee table: "You have a lot of questions."

"Uh, a little bit." John heard his suppressed voice at the bottom of his throat.

"Say." One word, concise.

"Sherlock, I mean you in a year, traveling with the doctor." John licked his lips, "Jesus, have they mentioned me? Well, the future me."

"Your future self is in big trouble. Next." Sherlock replied absently, staring out of the shadowy window.

"Why did the doctor come to see you? By the way, 'change it'." John quickly remembered this, and his tone became a little urgent, "What do they want you to change?"

Now, instead of staring out the window, Sherlock turned his head to look at the little man in front of him.The corners of his mouth were raised, and his high cheekbones became more prominent in the dim light, revealing a clear sneer: "Save the world."

"What?! Save the world?" John was shocked, as if he had heard some terrible news, "Sherlock, you mean, they let you, for God's sake, make you a high-powered sociopath... save the world ?”

Sherlock gave John a sideways look, and half-pursed his lips angrily: "Is there a problem?"

"Cough cough cough, no."

Seeing the curly-haired boy's unconscious, seemingly cute behavior, John turned his head unnaturally, not letting the curly hair occupy his sight.Undoubtedly, this move resulted in Sherlock's displeased cold snort and expressionless words: "Next."

John sighed, knowing that denying it in front of the world's only consulting detective would be the stupidest thing to do.

"Your day..." he started, but stopped abruptly after a few syllables.His fingertips trembled imperceptibly.Aware of his own reaction, John couldn't help but smiled wryly. He thought that after so many days, he had already accepted this established fact, but he still couldn't achieve the calmness he was always proud of, "The medicine Jack gave you .Well, in front of the movie theater, I saw... what is it?"

Sherlock raised his head abruptly, his eyes tightly grasped the little man, his eyes were burning with a strange light: "You have seen it all. Of course, I know, you must have seen it."

—he said he knew!

John forcibly suppressed the inexplicable feeling in his heart, and continued to ask: "So, what is it?"

"Oh, the alien product given by the doctor, 'growth potion'. Of course, there is no doubt that this name must be his bad taste." Sherlock shrugged, "It is said that it can cure my amnesia and shrink my body in a short time question."

"Alien product? Is it reliable?" John was deeply skeptical.

"I don't know." Sherlock summed it up briefly, only the sparkling eyes revealed his excitement, "This is a rare experiment. I recorded all the data and studied the pills with various chemical reagents, and the results are gratifying. Yes Already, I plan to take another tablet tomorrow to try the possible effects of formalin...john, allow you to take a closer look."

"Oh, fu..." The little man had to admit that his good roommate was always pushing his limit, "sherlock, that's your medicine! You can't use them for ridiculous experiments! Look at For God's sake, I don't want to face you as a kid every day!"

Sherlock narrowed his eyes, and something flashed across his pale face for a moment. ——Too fast, so fast that John didn't see clearly.The detective pursed his lips, opened and closed his thin lips, and his deep voice spread in his ears, like a fine wine that had been brewing for a thousand years, brightly dazed his heart: "...good."

John watched in bewilderment as the voice rode the gray-toned light, swirling and rising in the icy air, and landed directly in the bottom of his heart, causing ripples circle after circle.

The room was silent.

His chest swelled as if it was about to explode.

John rubbed his eyes and stood up on crutches.He licked his lips and gave a short smile to the instigator of everything, his good roommate Sherlock: "I'm tired. Go upstairs to bed first. Good night, Sherlock."

After finishing speaking, he leaned on a cane and walked towards the door without looking back.He walked hurriedly, as if he was escaping from something.

Looking at the stairs that were close at hand, John's heart relaxed inexplicably, and he was about to move forward, but his hand on crutches was suddenly pulled vigorously.The forward trend was blocked, and John had to stop.He sighed heavily in his heart, turned his head, and as expected saw Sherlock's frowning brows, pursed lips, and those stubborn, straight eyes.

"john."

It came again, and he heard the deep voice of the other party again.The little man closed his eyelids weakly.

"John." Sherlock called out again, his voice full of confusion.He stared at the little man in front of him without blinking. Under the dyeing of the light, his gray-green pupils seemed to be dazzled by a layer of warm light for an instant, extremely bright, almost transparent, "welebayworld back to my world)."

Sherlock's voice was very light and shallow, like the usual muttering and whispering when he was perfunctory to him.At this moment, John felt that his good roommate's voice was like a light feather, covering his heart lightly, making the stone in his chest heavier and heavier, and itchy and flustered, but he avoided it. not open.

John looked deeply into Sherlock's eyes, and he knew he couldn't escape, always had.Soon, John found his own reflection in those beautiful pupils. — except for his figure, nothing else.It was as if he was that person's whole world.

Smile miserably.Heart, straight down.

"Yes, back, yes." The little man coughed shortly, looked away hastily, and forced out a sentence from the bottom of his throat, "Of course."

John turned his head to the side, just in time to see the dark blue sky outside the window, and the overwhelming coldness lay between the sky and the earth, with only a few faint stars in it, almost hopelessly pitiful.After a while, he shifted his gaze to Sherlock's right hand, and the extremely slender and handsome - John didn't even know anyone with better-looking hands than Sherlock's - fingers rested on his arm. Sherlock's strength was great, he couldn't break free, more precisely, as early as when the cool fingers touched his skin, all the strength in his body was sucked away, and he was no longer able to resist half a bit.

Well, this is not a good sign. John is very aware of this, but Jesus, there is nothing he can do!

…Sherlock's hand was on his arm.

John looked at this scene with some hesitation, until he realized this, his eyes were terribly dry for a moment.It was as if he had a few limes in his mouth, so sour that he jerked violently and almost lost his center of gravity.