Boyfriend Development Program

On August 8, the wedding went well.

John and Mary's wedding.

"Shh-"

The white door decorated with black patterns opened suddenly, and the groom appeared in front of everyone with a top hat in one hand and the bride in the other, followed by bridesmaids and best men.

"Congratulations!"

"Happy Newlyweds!"

……

"Don't move, I want to take pictures of this couple. Very good, three two one, eggplant!"

At the moment when the flashing lights flickered, the guests who had been prepared behind sprinkled the petals in their hands to the two newlyweds who were smiling brightly.The petals enveloped the audience, and everyone was smiling, except for a groomsman who was "invited" aside with a tense face, the bride and groom smiled even brighter. ——No, to be precise, the bride has a bright smile. Compared with others, the groom is more close to a kind of polite habitual smile, which is stiff on the lips.

The sky is so blue, so blue that it is empty, and the white clouds are so high and far away that they are lightly enveloping a thread or two.

"Gratulations!" All the guests wished the newlyweds who had finally stood side by side heartily, and then scattered in all directions.The bridesmaid and the best man stood in the middle of the open lawn in front of the church. The former was smiling, while the latter was expressionless. Then they had a conversation.

John found that he couldn't control his slanted gaze to that side, until the time of welcoming guests, the best man and bridesmaids stood beside him and the bride.

David, Archie, and then... his former boss and old friend, Colonel Sholto.

He gave Sholto an excited hug, and mustered all his energy to deal with the review from his former boss—maybe it was a subconscious effect, as soon as he saw Sholto, John thought he had returned to the war years.

"Ordinary life really suits you."

Sholto's words made John stupefied for a moment, and subconsciously looked at Mary who was standing with Sherlock, that woman with a happy smile... From now on, she will be his wife.And that man... John's quickly withdrawn eyes "casually" swept over Sherlock——he had nothing to do with him anymore.

No more... nothing to do.

——"Don't you need to see a psychiatrist?"

——"No, I go to see it once in a while, as a change. Uh, you know, psychotherapy... well, it's quite effective."

The conversation between sherlock and janine (later john knew that was the name of the bridesmaid) was pleasant, the conversation between sherlock and mycroft gnashed their teeth in a low voice, and sherlock feebly forked the things on the dinner plate to solve the food...it was obviously his own wedding, john However, he silently maintained the smile on his face, deeply engraving that person's every move into his own bones and blood, for future memory, chewing, heating and warding off the cold when it is cold.

... In this way, it is enough.

"Please ask the best man to speak."

The wedding finally reached this stage, the most embarrassing part for John.Of course, the embarrassment does not refer to Sherlock's forgotten words, nor the long silence, nor does his good roommate begin to read the telegram after he unnaturally reminded the "telegram", but at the most critical moment, he had to hold Mary's hand. ——Not because of the impulse to "hold the hand", but because the little man felt that as the groom, he should hold the bride's hand at this time.

So, John took Mary's hand with a stiff smile.

"John, I'm afraid I can't congratulate you. All emotions, especially love, are contrary to the reason that I regard as supreme." John was not surprised at all that his good roommate would say so about his wedding.No, he was even surprised that Sherlock would only say such a sentence and put it aside, even though this sentence made all the guests change their faces. ——Since when did Sherlock have mortal feelings?

... When did it start?

If it wasn't for this wedding, John felt that maybe he would never hear Sherlock's self-admission in his entire life, those heavy, bloody dissections from the inside out, annoying, rude, stupid, selfish and hateful... No, These words, these words!For God's sake, those words shouldn't come out of Sherlock's mouth to judge himself!

John's hand under the table was clenched violently, and waves of sadness welled up in his heart, which soon poured into his limbs and bones, and the turmoil was endless. ——Smugly boasting about his unique profession and mysterious detective skills, and belittling the IQ of others by the way... Jesus, this is, and should only be, the sherloes he knows!

"Anyone who meets me is a misfortune."

Speaking of this, Sherlock paused, a faint smile appeared on his pale and handsome face.The bright light poured in from the church windows, and fell on the curly-haired man's smooth and graceful jaw and slightly pursed lower lip, somehow evoking a little drooping. John saw light and shadow jumping on the eyelashes of his sweetheart, dancing like a dying butterfly (for some reason, he thought of this inappropriate metaphor), shaking off the annual rings and all the joy .

In my ears, the deep voice of the consulting detective continued: "I dismiss virtue, turn a blind eye to beauty, and can't understand happiness..."

Calm and indifferent words, expressionless face, gray-green eyes so cold that there is no light at all... Looking at Sherlock who is tearing up his weaknesses and showing them to everyone, John feels his heart is about to break.

Piece after piece, they sank smoothly into the abyss of eternal doom.

Without warning, John remembered that a few days ago, Sherlock had a whim (probably because of the need for some experimental data.—John guessed) and took him to drink and walk around the streets until the two returned to 221b drunk , childishly playing "Truth or Dare" - if that can be called "Truth or Dare".

"Do I matter?" Sherlock asked him, grinning.

"To some people."—at least to John Watson.

After getting the answer he wanted, the curly-haired man started to giggle, and John couldn't help but wrinkle his face into a ball.He cleared his throat, and with the stronger alcohol, he blurted out the absurd question: "Am I a woman? Pretty?" As soon as he finished speaking, he saw his good roommate froze.Well, Jesus, fortunately, a woman's name was pasted on his forehead, which gave him enough reason to resolve his embarrassment: "This." John pointed to his forehead, hiding his inner panic with a smirk.

But until the end, Sherlock never answered this question directly, even if it was just a simple "yes" or "no".In the end, let it go. —John wondered if his good roommate had noticed something.

"Mary, if I say..."

Sherlock's words woke John from his memory, and he spoke in a tone that the little man could not describe and had never heard before.

Sherlock said that he never wanted to be anyone's good friend. Sherlock said that John was the bravest, kindest and smartest person in the world. Sherlock said that it was John's warm and firm friendship that saved him... Listen, John Gradually lowered his head, letting his palms clenched weakly into fists and then loosened, loosened and clenched again.

"What's the matter? What's the matter? What's the matter with you all?" Sherlock's voice was finally no longer calm, and when he looked around, he was obviously panicked, just like a child who has just arrived in a strange environment and can only eagerly ask the last one. Familiar people ask for help, "John? Did I do something wrong, John?"——For Sherlock, John Watson is the most trustworthy person, the most worthy... to deliver everything.

John's palms tightened again suddenly, and a voice in his heart moaned in pain: oh, sherlock!

He didn't care about Mary's reaction, and he didn't have time to care about it at all. He just hurriedly expressed his willingness with aggressive methods, and hugged the flustered child tightly.His sweetheart, Sherlock, lost in the mortal world because of his sudden betrayal.

—Jesus above, he screwed up everything.It's him……

The best man's speech soon came to an end.In a trance, even the most exciting case for John—the ingenious murder of Colonel Sholto—couldn't really lift his spirits until the last moment.

John thought, he must have filtered out those irrelevant links, just like his good roommate would filter out some things that are irrelevant to the storage of the thinking palace.

Candlelight, music, a beautiful wife... and an unborn child, there is nothing that can make you happier than this, but John, who is smiling, feels that his heart is so heavy that it is difficult for him to breathe, and it is so heavy that even his face Even the polite smile could not be maintained: Sherlock's calm gray-green eyes, Sherlock's slender fingers dancing on the violin, Sherlock's reserved and proud smile with slightly pursed lips... everything, everything It will be the last swan song, just like the first, last, and only oath of protection given to them by that person.

John Watson has no reason to take care of Sherloes openly anymore, because John Watson and Mary Watson are about to have a baby.

—Hey, what exciting news this is, what desperate news this is.

So, at the end, John could only watch helplessly as Sherlock carefully folded the violin piece that he had written for a long time into an envelope and put it on the spot.On the envelope, there is a line clearly written: drandmrswatson.

... Dr. and Mrs. Watson.

From the first time they met, Sherlock never called John Watson "dr. Watson" once, except to introduce others.

And now, he calls him: dr. watson.

John watched Sherlock look around hastily, pursed his lips, turned up his collar and strode away in the dark.

In the night without stars and moon, the blue sky spread endless desolation, and finally all of them hid in Sherlock's curly hair.

And John couldn't do anything, couldn't redeem anything, he could only try his best to maintain the composure on his face, and watched the person he loved the most leave.

One step, two steps, three steps... Finally disappeared.

The grand desperation, full of tears, is like a violently boiling water bubble, tumbling and tumbling again and again.

What is bulging, sinking, humble, and greedy... can no longer be found.

sorry, am so sorry.

——ibetrayedyou. (Note 1)

The author has something to say: (Note 1) ibetrayedyou: I betrayed you.

The scumbag author wrote so sadly that he wanted to cry.

Cardiff in 661869 ([-])

Arcadia town.

The morning sun shone in from the curtains that were drawn wildly, and the warm and gentle light fell on the two people who were sleeping together: one had sandy blonde short hair and was slightly shorter; the other was taller with bushy hair. And curly short hair, pale and handsome face. —John Watson and Sherloes.no doubt.

Not long after, John mumbled something in a low voice, and soon woke up from his sleep.

As soon as he opened his eyes, he bumped into a pair of eyes that had become extraordinarily transparent and slightly light green due to the exposure to the sun. A brief sweet smile appeared on the face of the little man, and soon he became depressed again. down.He glanced at the clock with a big thorn pointing to "6", hesitated for a moment, and raised his eyebrows jokingly, leaning against his lover who was staring at him curiously, with a trace of sullenness in his mouth: "6 o'clock, I remember you were still doing experiments at 3 in the morning...Jesus, sherlock, are you bloody awake?!"

"Sleeping is boring." There was a low vibration in the chest that was leaning on.

"Fuck your boredom!" John sat up angrily, "You can't stay awake all the time!"

Due to his sudden big movement, the tightly covered quilt slipped off John's body uncontrollably, and those green and red marks were instantly visible on his fair chest.The sharp gaze was glued to John's body, and after the brewing of the air, it gradually deepened and deepened, and finally became scorching hot.

John's face turned red all of a sudden, and his behavior was rarely flustered (John Watson, who used to be a military doctor who claimed to be self-disciplined, rarely showed this side in front of people, even Sherlock, who was his lover, rarely saw it) pulled off the quilt, and covered himself again Get a tight fit.

The curly-haired man snorted softly, and looked away from his almost naked eyes.

Only then did John gradually calm down, but the reddishness on the base of his ears did not fade for a long time.

This is already the second year after he and Sherlock got married (Note 1).Strictly speaking, the honeymoon period has already passed, not to mention the possible shyness on the bed, but when the curly-haired man glanced at him, John's body couldn't help but tremble slightly. ——I don't know if it's because of an occupational disease, but the little man feels that the detective's vision is extremely sharp at this moment!

Clearly feeling the changes in his body, John couldn't help cursing himself loudly in his heart: damn, this damn body became so sensitive at some point!

"Want?" Sherlock glanced at John lightly, and it took 0.00001 seconds to deduce this fact.

"Uh, that..." John bit his lower lip unconsciously.

The curly-haired man still had an expressionless face, but his slender fingers were precisely placed on John's lower abdomen, slowly and familiarly touching the extremely familiar body.

"Jesus... on top!" John tried his best not to let the moan escape from his lips.

The next second, Sherlock fell heavily on John.

The two of them tilted their heads and fell into a coma for an instant.

……

Moaning feebly, John woke up from the dream, with some anger remaining in his eyes. -Anyone who is interrupted while "sexy" is high will be angry!

Soon, some scenes that came into view dispelled his sullenness: the bedroom he had personally arranged for himself and Sherlock was gone, replaced by a warm but strange room!And beside him... John stared at the woman in front of him in surprise: his ex-girlfriend Mary!

"Wha..." John suddenly had a bad premonition in his heart, "What the hell is this... ohmygod!"

Memories flooded in like a tidal wave, and he was bobbing and suffocating in this hopeless ocean.

On August 8, the day he married Mary Watson.

Sherlock's last oath, the inference about the child, and... the figure who left silently.

As newlyweds, he and Mary have moved into the new house for more than a month, living trivial day after day.

……

"It turned out to be a dream." John pulled the corner of his mouth, trying to show a smile, but it couldn't be formed in the end.

Mary also woke up, touched her protruding belly, and smiled softly: "What dream?"

"It's nothing." John coughed shortly, "Don't you want to sleep for a while? Hmm..." He looked at the clock and pointed at "6" sharply, he couldn't help being in a daze, and soon came back to his senses Come on, "It's only 6 o'clock. It's still early."

"Okay, I'll sleep for a while." After saying that, Mary really closed her eyes and fell asleep.

Looking at Mary's sleeping face, John sighed: It's been a month.They have been living together for a month.

The reason why he will marry Mary is because John feels that he can survive through responsibilities and obligations—a good husband and a good father.Unexpectedly, in just one month, the boring life after marriage almost didn't drive him crazy.He began to dream frequently, dreaming of the war in Afghanistan, dreaming of running in the streets of London with Sherlock, dreaming of that person's gray-green eyes and low voice.

Today, he even dreamed that he married Sherlock and lived a happy and sweet life!His eyes moved to Mary's high protruding belly inadvertently, and John smiled self-deprecatingly: It's about heaven and hell.

...Since when did even the dreams quietly change?

For God's sake, he must be crazy!

Must be... crazy.

As he thought about it, John's consciousness gradually became blurred.

In the end, the little man felt dizzy and fell asleep with his head up!

……

"Awake?" Sherlock's words pulled John's sanity back instantly.

"Sher..." John was clearly aware that he and Sherlock were in bed, and □...Jesus was on it! "sherlock?"

The curly-haired man just snorted as an answer.

"But wasn't I still there just now...?" After confirming that the person in front of him was the real Sherlock, John still hesitated, or...he couldn't believe it——not everyone can withstand the fall of a hard fall, "What the hell Which is the dream?"

The curly-haired man glanced at John, and blankly asked a multiple-choice question: "Sex first, or crack the mirror first?"

"Uh? Wha...!" John finally realized what was interrupted before, and glared at the innocuous detective with embarrassment, "For God's sake, can't you—?! Mirror image , what is a mirror image?"

"Well, it seems that you chose to crack the mirror image first." Sherlock's expression was still casual, "The so-called mirror image, in short, is another world created like a mirror. There are many mirrors that can be used as mirrors, such as optical discs, water surfaces, light... …Memory! Oh, brilliant! Memory, he must have invaded your memory, creating two different mirror worlds!"

"Wait, why is it my memory?"

"How many species of tobacco and their ashes have I researched on 'Deduction'?"

John licked his lower lip and blurted out: "240 kinds."

"Actually, 243." Sherlock corrected him blankly.

"Yes, indeed. Uh, 243 types, I misremembered." John gave the curly-haired man a dissatisfied look, "But Sherlock, don't change the subject!"

"Hey, 240 kinds! Sure enough!" Sherlock's eyes flashed triumphantly, he took out his mobile phone from the bedside table, his hands jumped a few times, and then put the screen vertically in front of John, "This world Here, only 240 species are recorded on the 'Deductive Method'. ...Conclusion?"

John muttered to himself: "ohmygod, this is a mirror image made of my memories!"

"Arcadia." Sherlock cut him off, showing the word "arcadia" to the little man.

"What?" John looked at the capitalized word in front of him, still confused, "Uh, I know how to spell Arcadia."

"Arcadia, a small mountain village in ancient Greece, is a metaphor for 'Xanadu'." Sherlock stared at John with piercing eyes, and the gray-green eyes burst into a sharp and excited light, "John, we live in Xanadu. Your Xanadu. "

"Clap clap".

As soon as Sherlock finished speaking, there was a burst of applause.Immediately afterwards, a short man with a red bow tie appeared in the bedroom of the two of them, "As expected of the consulting detective Sherloes who made the Lost game machine malfunction, he can break the shackles of the Time Lord's ultimate weapon 'themoment' .”

Almost at the same time as the voice sounded, Sherlock pressed back John's upper body with a cold face, and covered it completely with a quilt, and then squinted his eyes to look at the man who appeared almost out of thin air: "Who are you?" Suddenly , the words that flashed in his mind before he fell into a coma jumped out of his mind like a flash of inspiration, "...the dream lord?"

"You finally guessed it." The man who called himself "Dream Lord" smiled triumphantly, "However, everything is not over yet."

"You just mentioned the lost game console." The lines on Sherlock's face became more and more tense, "What is that? Among us, who controls it?"

"Hey, you'll find out soon, I promise, sherloes, you'll..."

The man's voice gradually weakened, and his figure quickly faded along with the voice.At the same time, the room before being captured by the dream was presented inch by inch in front of the two of them.

Cardiff in 1869.

Teacher John Watson's room.

The author has something to say: (Note 1) John and Sherlock are married: The mirror world extracts John's memory, or the subconscious mind.Subconsciously he wanted to marry Sherlock, so they got married. — This has nothing to do with reality.

...Finally finished writing, so tired, good night.

Cardiff in 671869 (two)

In the small living room, there are still four people lying here and there: Sam, Dean, Daniel, and Kate, and they are still sleeping.

——Obviously, he didn't break free from the dream realm of the dream lord.

As for jack and ianto, God knows if these two have fallen into the dream realm and where they have gone now!

John carefully raised his foot, and stepped over the "heap of corpses" lying horizontally.

He saw at the other end of the round table, Sherlock was looking around at the structure of the house, er, of course, using the "deductive method" that the consulting detective is best at: "What should we do now?"

Sherlock glanced at John, and the expression on his face clearly expressed his doubts.

"Uh, I mean, what's your plan going forward?" John moved his lips hesitantly, his gaze flicked across the man's face——the scene in the mirror quickly passed through his mind, "Do you want to ...Um, sleep?"

The little man looked at the sky, the night was dark, and one or two stars were hanging in the sky lonely, shining light softly: it was getting late.

"sleep?"

John could feel Sherlock's eyes on him, and he knew his good roommate was looking at him with a kind of weird judgment that was getting weirder, - for some reason, maybe he was affected by it just like him the effect of mirroring.The temperature in his eyes gradually turned cold, and his heart—even if he didn't expect half of it—turned from anxiety to a large silence: "I accept."

……I accept?

The little man hadn't really understood what this strange-sounding sentence meant, but Sherlock spoke again: "Room?"

Hearing this, John finally came to his senses. His current house only has 4 rooms, no more, no less.Counting the number of people again..., he suddenly became entangled: No matter how the distribution is, it is not enough.

"The one on the far right on the second floor." There was a little light in Sherlock's gray-green eyes.

John didn't react for a moment: "...what?"

"Jack and Ianto chose the one on the far left." The curly-haired man picked up a piece of paper from the table and handed it to John.

The little man took the white paper suspiciously, and at a glance he realized what is called "the evil taste of aliens" (John dared to point at Sherlcok and swear, it was definitely a good thing that damned alien did!): Then The structural diagram of the house was clearly drawn on the paper. If you look carefully, you can see a wooden sign hanging on the doorknob of the leftmost room on the second floor, with a line of tiny characters written on it: Occupied. —j&i

"Don't like far left?"

"No...but, cough." John coughed shortly, belatedly comprehended the meaning of the curly-haired man's words, "You mean, um, we...well, sleep together?"

As he was talking, John felt his face was burning a bit, and his voice became softer and softer. When it came to "sleeping together", he was almost talking to himself.The unsightly scenes in his memory appeared in front of his eyes as if in slow motion, and his face couldn't help burning even more.

As it turns out, never underestimate the acuity of a consulting detective.

Sherlock pursed his lips, his expressionless face finally curved upward.He walked around the four people who were still sleeping, and walked towards the stairs. "John, don't forget to draw a house number. The door of the room." Halfway through, the curly-haired man thought of something, smiled brightly, "Ours."

John: "..."

In the end, he still drew a small house number and a line of words on the piece of paper with a wooden face: Occupied. —s&j

……

Undoubtedly a 19th century room.

Decorated with black-striped wallpaper with smiling faces, dim orange lights... Even the handmade pillows on the sofa are all familiar styles.

Sherlock looked around, raised his eyebrows, looked back at the little man who had just walked in the door with a smile that was not a smile: "A copy of 221b?"

John hesitated: "Well, that, for God's sake, Mrs. Hudson has great taste."

"Strange?" Sherlock suddenly changed the topic.

"what……?"

"Jack and..." The consulting detective frowned and tried to recall the name of another protagonist, John consciously picked it up: "Ianto."

"Yes, Ianto!" Sherlock gave the little man an appreciative look, "It's weird that they have sex?"—Obviously, he noticed the shock and momentary...bewilderment left on John's face?

"Don't be silly, John! They're a couple!"

"They? They are..." John seemed to have suddenly realized something, "Jesus is above, you said the four downstairs are too?"

The next moment, the little man thought Sherlock was looking at him like he was looking at a fool. — "well, well, you can assume I didn't ask."

Suddenly, Sherlock's eyes became even more strange.

The dim light evenly fell on the curly-haired man's face, causing the pale skin to reflect an ivory-like delicate luster.

The little man was in a trance where he couldn't look away.

"Game console." John said suddenly, "The lost game console, do you have any clues?"

Sherlock said without hesitation: "nope."

"Any plans to leave 1869?"

"n~o." The short syllable is deliberately prolonged.

John bit his lower lip and agreed: "Well, very good, no. Of course."

Sherlock tore off the dark blue scarf around his neck, turned around lightly and hung the coat on the hanger, and then unbuttoned the suit jacket.

A series of movements are smooth and proficient, even John has long been familiar with them, but under the smudge of the dim light, they are extraordinarily elegant, a little decadent, and have a kind of heavy and attractive power to sink people.

"Are you going to sleep? Then where should I sleep? Uh..." As soon as the question came out, facing Sherlock's surprised and almost straightforward eyes, John wished to bite his own tongue, so as to take back what he said before, - it must be the influence of the previous mirror image It was only because of him that he would ask such a "metaphorical" question!Oh, for God's sake! "I mean, um, that, did I..."

"Unfinished business." Sherlock's calm and calm words interrupted John's incoherent explanation, "John, I owe you."

John's movements froze in place, his dark brown eyes were full of doubts: Did he hear hallucinations?

owe him?What do you owe him?

... No, no, not that, absolutely not!

Sherloes will never... stop, please, stop!

……

"That's what you think." His good roommate deadpanned the desire John was trying to suppress, "The mirror image has been cracked, John, it's time to do the rest. Let'shaveasex, John (John , come to make love).”

John's body couldn't help trembling slightly: Jesus is above!

The little man seemed a little frightened, even a little embarrassed. Everything in front of him made him wonder if he was still in another unshattered mirror image.After waking up from the dream, things are different, and all extravagant thoughts can only be extravagant thoughts after all.

"Put away those messy guesses in your head, John!" Sherlock's voice became very severe, even with a hint of reprimand.After a while, the curly-haired man couldn't help but slow down his tone, his voice was low, with a slight tenderness that he didn't even notice, "Come here, John. This is real, not a mirror image. I promise."

The trembling of John's body became more violent.

Some joy gradually grew in the bottom of my heart, from being small to gradually growing, and then growing, and finally converging into a vast ocean to engulf him from the beginning!

He walked to sherlock.

Cardiff in 681869 ([-])

The next morning.

John woke up enduring the soreness all over his body, and found that the sun had risen in the sky. Unlike London's cloudy and rainy days, Cardiff mostly had bright sunny days with warm light.

…well, 09:30 in the morning, hours later than usual.

Turning his head slightly to one side, as expected, he saw that the other side of the bed was already empty, with a slight chill, presumably the consulting detective had been gone for a while.Licking his lower lip, John tilted his head and thought for a while, feeling that the touch in his heart was unpleasant and too glassy, ​​so he squeezed out a little smile and suppressed it.

Groping to get up, he paused when his eyes came into contact with the imprint on his body—the imprint left by the person he loves most—a hasty but happy smile appeared on his face.Soon, the little man seemed to realize something, and put on his clothes nimbly.

Forcing himself to ignore the stretched fingertips and the illusion that all the blood in his body was congealed at this moment, the little man crumpled the sheet and hugged it in his arms and walked towards the bathroom. In 1869, the advanced washing machine of the 21st century had not yet been born. It can be fully automatic by hand - this is also what John complains about the most besides the computer.

John can already imagine what he will be like when washing the sheets