Sherlock becomes obsessed with John having sex with women. Suddenly John wonders if Sherlock is running an experiment or genuinely flirting? And after they start having sex themselves, are they actually in a relationship yet, or what exactly is going on?
Origin
Middle English: from Old French gelos, from medieval Latin zelosus (see zealous).
Feeling or showing an envious resentment of someone or their achievements, possessions, or perceived advantage Synonyms: envious, covetous, desirous
John Watson’s face, never a canvas of subtilty, gesticulated back and forth between Sherlock and Tom, making connections and observations so loud that Sherlock could hear them in his own head.
A mirror before him, if said mirror was dull, cheap and marred, Sherlock thought to himself. Smile. He attempted it in all its falsehood and dropped it soon as Molly and Tom drifted to the other side of the room toward Mrs. Hudson.
John narrowed his eyes with a knowing grin.
“So--”
“Do not attempt to traverse whatever path your mind has discovered, we will not travel down it. I recommend you abandon it entirely,” Sherlock’s voice near a whisper and as he turned to John he hoped the look on his face would end the matter.
John gave his best, “Ok, whatever you say” face and moved on to talk to the others in the room. Sherlock strode to his chair where he flopped.
Very normal, not clever in the least but did he just make her laugh? Good. No. No, that’s good. Ignore him. He won’t be a threat to our mutually beneficial... well, perhaps not. But nonetheless the friendship we have. I’m sure.
Another smile in the general direction of the rest of the room and back to his mobile. Sherlock regretted it immediately as Tom took it as an invitation to walk to him and attempt conversation.
“It’s great to meet you finally...well now that you are alive and all,” Tom nervously giggled out.
Not gay just awkward. Nothing to report there.
Sherlock kept his eyes on his mobile, shifting in his seat and nodding, “Yes, excellent to meet you as well, Terry.”
“Tom, its...its Tom.”
“Ah yes, sorry, just busy--” Sherlock began with a raised eyebrow.
Tom put his hands up, “World’s greatest detective at work, don’t let me disturb.”
Sherlock spied Molly standing up and moving toward them while trying to break conversation with Mrs, Hudson. Her eyes wide, almost like fear...but of what? Oh Molly dear, he doesn’t know yet, does he?
Tom shifted his feet, and Sherlock glanced up at him.
Tom grinned, “Of course if you ever need help, I like to think--”
Sherlock frowned and opened his mouth to cut Tom off there but Molly beat him to the punch.
“Hey Tom darling, we need to meet Meena so maybe we should go? Traffic and all.” Molly’s hand gripped firm on his arm, pulling. Sherlock watched the muscles in her hand tense as they wrapped.
“Sure thing, babe,” he smiled at her and she returned it. Sherlock observed through squinted eyes.
Tom gave a faint wave and Molly a nod at Sherlock, though her gulp was telling, Sherlock thought.
She missed his when she turned to leave. Tom laid a hand on her shoulder to guide her. Sherlock’s mind flashed to a number of times he did the same and he felt a twitch internally.
With a shake of his head and a blink, he returned to his mobile and his mind. But not so far in that he missed when John walked past him to his own chair.
“So--”
“John, I believe I made my point earlier--”
“I like him.” John stared at him, unyielding with admonishment.
Sherlock pulled a long breath through his nose, but he felt that twinge again.
“Of course you do...he seems perfectly normal, the furthest thing from a master criminal and I am sure they will be very happy,” Sherlock steepled his fingers as he spoke in a soft tone. “And if you and I are wrong? Well,--” he chuckled lightly, “May God have mercy on him.”
John grinned, nodded and chuckled to himself as he sat back to look at his mobile.
“Protective now are we?”
Sherlock’s lips curled up, “It would seem it is part of my nature after all.”
2. Feeling or showing a resentful suspicion that one's partner is attracted to or involved with someone else.
Sherlock’s ears focused to his left, voices in a room to the side of the hall, behind half-closed doors. Hushed but biting in tone. He might in any circumstance listen in, but the voice of the woman piqued a deeper interest in him. Hearing his own name caused him to hang back and prepare a plan to exit quickly to avoid being caught if needed. But he listened intently soaking in every nuance.
“I might be a bit pissed but even I can see that there is something you aren’t telling me about you and a certain detective,” Tom said through his teeth.
A throaty soft laugh escaped from Molly and Sherlock in his mind see her incredulous look that he knew well. But he heard no words leave her lips.
“Molly?” Tom whispered, the edge of exasperation peeking through. Sherlock held his breath, uncertain and if he was honest, anxious about what she would respond.
Tom’s turn for a throaty laugh and Sherlock gulped unconsciously, straining his ears to hear her response.
“Well then--”
“Ok,” she spat out suddenly, “I’ll tell you everything I can, later but not here...I promise, just... ”
Sherlock sensed her moving closer to Tom by the change in her voice. “Let’s just enjoy this, ok? Music, food, drink, dancing and a very happy couple are in there and we can have a good time still. Let’s get you some food and we’ll dance, ok?”
A false cheer veiled her desperate plea. Tom’s following sigh, and “Ok, babe,” told Sherlock that he missed that emotion. He heard his hand rub across her dress, letting him know an embrace was the result. It was his cue to leave out of sight as they would likely leave the room soon.
But he foolishly remained for a moment more as Molly said to Tom “I love you” breathlessly. A tightness crept in Sherlock’s chest, freezing him. But his better sense kicked in and he pivoted and ducked into a near room just in time to be missed by the couple as they left that room and down the hall.
3. Fiercely protective of one's rights or possessions.
He contemplated the words “I love you” every day. Like clockwork, he played the scenario in his mind, focused on the small moment. Trauma from the rest he pushed aside for those musing briefly. Their precise meaning eluded discussion though he and Molly spoke late into the night after he tied up loose ends from Sherrinford. But words got hijacked by his sister once again, both avoiding the cumbersome for the more practical concerns Eurus’s existence presented for Sherlock.
Their friendship, terse at times and others at ease as before, found its place once again. Perhaps words said aren’t as determining as he feared, he pondered. But his heart, previously unaccounted for, continued to appear in a tenderness, especially with her, that shocked him and he often countered it quickly. But lately, he let it stand. And he became quite skilled in hiding his disappointment when she countered it herself in a protective dismissal.
So was their dynamic. She dated and he found fault with every one of them. The latest? Well took a bit of legwork but found him cheating. Well, he supposed, being un-privy to whether this man and Molly had a monogamous arrangement. Nonetheless, when she dropped off Rosie, he planned to speak with her about it.
“It’s what any good friend would do,” Sherlock sighed at John shaking his head at him.
John smirked, “ Ah yes, like when you found out that Emily was cheating on me…” He paused, looking up in mocking surprise then his face fell as he stared at Sherlock. “Oh wait, you didn’t.”
John sat back in his chair, arms folded. “Molly is special, Sherlock, always has been and its damn well past due you faced that truth.”
Sherlock laughed, “And what is that?”
“That knowing you love her isn’t enough, not for either of you. That it can’t just be said and felt and ignored,“ John pleaded. “I was there Sherlock, remember? I heard the words. You two have played a back and forth game apparently for years, and now it’s obvious enough for me to see.”
Sherlock sat still, looking off to the side, and then down at his lap, rubbing his chin absently. “Perhaps so but circumstances are what they are. I am what I am. We have reached a contented agreement--”
“Jesus H. Christ.”
Sherlock narrowed his eyes at John who kept the same disheartened look as he dramatically threw up his hands and stood.
“Leave her be or get over yourself and love her properly like you are more than capable of doing--”
John cut off his words as he heard footsteps near the door, small ones of his daughter stomping up the steps with the light steps of another.
John shot Sherlock one more look of determination before the door opened.
“Dada!” Rosie half ran to her father, with open arms. John scooped her up and planted a kiss on her cheek.
Molly followed into the flat, setting down a small bag. Sherlock’s eyes run over her as she bends and stands, noting the tightness of her jeans before he caught himself and looked away as he stood.
“Were we a good girl for Aunt Molly?” John asked cheerily, turning he and Rosie toward Molly.
Rosie nodded as Molly giggled, “She ran me all around the Science Museum, but she loves the space exhibits. We have to see everything twice.”
“Rocket ships!” Rosie shouted, pointing up.
Sherlock continued to stand by his chair, hands in his pocket, but he winked at Rosie when she waved at him.
John laughed, “Yes, baby girl. Now say bye to Uncle Sherlock and Aunt Molly.”
“Buh-bye!”
John leaned down to pick up the bag and set Rosie down. Molly glanced at Sherlock and he gave a small smile.
“I’ll walk with you two," Molly offered but John waved his hand.
“I think Sherlock had something he wanted to discuss with you, right?” John stared at Sherlock.
Eyes narrowed, Sherlock held John’s stare. But he turned and glanced back at Molly.
“Yes, if you aren’t in a hurry to leave,” Sherlock asked, feigning nonchalance.
Molly looked between the two men, but if she suspected anything out of the ordinary, her face did not reveal it. She gave a soft smile and shook her head. “Free the rest of the afternoon.’
Sherlock realized he had held his breath but he breathed it out slowly to not reveal his nerve. You are not going to address what John perceived to be the issue. This is to inform her about Jack, Sherlock assured himself.
When John and Rosie closed the door behind them, Sherlock motioned for her to sit in John’s chair.
Molly sat stiffly at first and silence fell between the two as Sherlock searched in his mind for the words to begin. Soften the blow, she might really like him after all. Or perhaps find out more at first? No, she is used to blunt words from you. The other might be more shocking.
“What is it that you need, Sherlock?” Molly asked, hint of weariness in it that made him suddenly anxious.
He realized they had been sitting for a longer period of time than he intended in quiet. She was sitting back, one leg tucked under her .
“I...well, to be frank, I have some terrible news about your boyfriend, Jack,” he said plainly, looking away from her for a moment to the floor but he turned his eyes back to her as he steepled his fingers and leaned forward.
She laughed. “What now? Drugs? Murder? God, it’s always something,” she grunted, her head falling into her hands and her fingers began to rub her forehead.
Sherlock’s brow furrowed, “No, he has two other women he is dating but what...what is your meaning of ‘its always something’. “
She snapped her head up, eyes dark fire meeting his. “George, Mark, Geoff, Pragdeesh. Most I only got one date and you’d find out the name. Every one of them you found something--”
“I’m just trying to protect you, after all, you do have your tendencies in your choices of dates skews toward the criminal element,” he half laughed but clamped his mouth shut as she shot up from her seat.
She leaned over him in his chair, and poked a finger in his chest suddenly, and kept it there. He gripped his chair arms, staring first at her finger but he lifted his chin to meet her eyes once again.
“ Sherlock Holmes, I did not ask you to be my protector and frankly it's getting pretty dull at this point."
“I take it that you aren’t broken up about this news," he sighed.
“You never let me get attached before you drop the evidence” she leaned back, removing her finger and returned to the chair.
“Perhaps there is another reason for this” Sherlock murmured.
She cast her eyes down to her hands, clearly undecided what she wanted to do with them, folding and unfolding them.
“Oh, I am sure there is. But you won’t acknowledge it”
“We spoke of it once.”
“Oh my God Sherlock let's not start this again.”
“We never ended it”
She swallowed hard, “Please do not try to confuse me. My God I cannot take that today.
His brow furrowed but the words running across his brain were not fully formed yet.
She studied his face and laughed, that sad throaty laugh that rattled through to his chest every time. “We can’t end something that never began, Sherlock. We have never been--”
He cut her off, letting his thoughts flow. “You asked to have coffee, I deflected and you served it to me anyway. I remember that day. Mused on all the possible outcomes if I had just said yes. I asked you to chips. I thought about if I kissed you then,” he paused, seeing her gulp and matched it with his own.
“You made me apologize, oh so many times. Even today I’ll apologize again. You risked everything to assist me in both legal and illegal schemes and received nothing in return but stares, smiles and more than enough heartache for a lifetime.” His face ached suddenly, realizing it had tightened with emotion. He continued anyway, “ I am worse for you than any man you’ve rejected. Well minus one perhaps, but it's a narrow contest. I awarded you nothing but grief and anguish and yet--”
“Don’t say it like that, you have given me more than that. We’ve been friends, we have...I just…” she attempted to soothe his worry, it was second nature to her but he watched her shake her head as if to reset her thoughts.
“Sherlock, I am not gonna hold your hand on this.”
“I thought that is what couples do,” He grimaced internally at his own attempt at levity.
She sighed, “ I mean, you gotta work this out on your own. I’ve exposed my heart for years to you, but it's your turn. I’m not gonna pull anything out of you that you don’t want to let go. Your sister caused enough trauma. And…”
She held his eyes, and the tenderness in it caught his breath in his throat.
“I cannot bring myself to make you do anything you don’t want or cause more pain for you--
“Molly, that is never something you are capable of...well, emotionally speaking.”
“Don’t be a sentimental fool, it should be impossible for you to be such so don’t play at it. You deal in realities and I am telling you them. You know enough the costs of sentiment as you call it. Every cou--...relationship, someone will hurt the other at some point--”
“I’ve done my fair share of this...perhaps I want to balance the scales if possible. This is not my expertise, I will fail daily.”
“More than you already have?”
“Perhaps you have a point there.”
He stood but found himself immediately kneeled in front of her. She leaned back retreating instinctively in the chair in her initial shock. He scanned her face, the tightness in her jaw determined to bridle herself and her words to protect herself. And rightly so. But those dark eyes as he captured them with his betrayed her. Hope and desire fired there, melting any ice she desperately held as the water dripped out the corners. In the past the compulsion to embrace her, he threw off, only allowing himself to kiss her cheek. Always soft, and warm beneath his lips. His hand found that same cheek now, his thumb caressing it without hesitation and her eyes squeezed shut. Hope, that’s the word for it, and she always gave him a steady supply. Could he dare to think he could provide something comparable?
I am going to try.
“Say the words, Sherlock, say them to me here now if you meant them, in spite of being forced before, I am only asking for the truth. You need it just as much as I do. It’s just you and me here. Say them again if you can...and if not then please let me be,” she whispered breathlessly, desperation and desideratum clinging to every word.
“I love you.” The words slipped out effortlessly now, a culmination of every stirring in his heart spilling forth in the most obvious fashion.
His other hand found the opposite cheek and she leaned into its caress.
“Then let me love you... it's all I ever wanted. If you love me, let me love you.” She opened her eyes as she spoke, dark brown steady where her voice wavered with fervor.
She was asking for the last time; he knew this was the one moment he must perfect in its completion or forfeit it all. That thought scared him to the core.
Blessedly any words fell out his mind, they could only hinder. He responded in the only way possible at this fixed point in time.
He leaned up and his lips found hers, gentle and chaste but for a breath. Her hands found his neck and every nerve tingled at her touch, aware of every fingertip across his skin. With his permission of a smile against her lips, she deepened the kiss till they both needed air, though they sought it recklessly from each other's empty lungs. What was I afraid of? He knew then that passion he applied to his study and work he could apply fervently to the study of her.
Reluctantly, they parted. Words again fell short to describe the emotion crackling between them. Dilated pupils open and drinking in flushed skin. Every chemical traveling together, cementing the logical to the inconsequent in his person. But declarations found him once again.
“Molly Hooper, you will have me to love until you tire of the burden,” he vowed heartfelt.
“Until the end of us then, whenever that may be, I will love you” she declared.
“Perhaps even beyond that,” he added, staring at her lips he already pined to kiss again.
“Death do us part?” she smirked but lost the look of jest as she met his gaze.
“No, I will follow you even then,” he breathed out, wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her down to his lap on the floor. He held her tight to his chest, a balm to wounds they both left open.
They sat in quiet soaking in the closeness. Molly broke the silence first.
“Dinner first?” she mumbled into his chest, keeping her arms tight around him.
“Take away?” he murmured into her hair.
She nodded and he felt her grin widen and his heart leapt. Pulling up his mobile, he began ordering them food with a few clicks.
She shifted and indicated she wanted to get up and he let her. She walked to the sofa and sat, pulling out her own phone.
“I hope you are texting your date tomorrow that you will no longer be seeing him?” he finished the transaction of food ordering and looked up at her with a grin.
She frowned, “I am not sure if text is the best--”
In a blink, Sherlock was on his feet, and two steps he kneeled on the couch hovering over her as she pressed against the back of the sofa. Wide-eyed her words stopped as her chest rose and fell quickly in response, watching his face expectantly. His lips curled devilishly and she shuddered ever so lightly much to his delight at the effect, now free to be explored to all its ends.
“Has he kissed you more than once?” His voice low as he lowered near her ear. “Then that is one time too many, considering he has shared those kisses with others. A text is more than he deserves.”
“Sherlock…”
“I’ll text him and we’ll worry no more about him,” he said matter factually as he grabbed her phone from her and shifted to her side to sit. She snatched it back immediately.
“OK, look here, I will take care of my own business here, got it?” Her face was serious and Sherlock was taken aback, frowning.
She looked back at her phone and began texting quickly, Sherlock leaned trying to sneak to spy what she typed on the screen, but she shot him another rebuke from her eyes.
He sat back and waited impatiently and out of the corner of his eye saw her pause and then hit send. He opened his mouth to ask what she typed but his word was cut off by her flipping her legs over as she straddled his lap.
“You are a jealous arse, but I’ve always known this,” she said huskily biting her lips she stared at his lips.
His lips curled up again, “Never indicated I wasn’t. Like it, don’t you?”
“Maybe...” she grinned, hand sliding up his chest to his neck before their lips met once again and her fingers began to work the buttons on his shirt. One more thing to text which he did before he was indisposed; an update to the order to make sure they just knocked and left the food outside.
It’s always Sherlock's bad news ex that shows up. What if John had an ex that was bad for him? Maybe John drinks too much when he's around, maybe John's behavior changes bc his self worth tanks when this guys around (and pining for Sherlock isn't helping). I want to see protective/jealous Sherlock chase off John's bad news ex for once.
Just want to take a moment to appreciate this exchange. John's bewildered anticipation of Sherlock's reaction to Tom &, of course, Sherlock's abject horror.
I just thought he cockblocked Jim but looks like Sherlock has been doing it for a while. Even in trf he subtly tells Molly to cancel her lunch date and the " avoid relationships for the sake of law and order" line...So jealous! lock is canon.
BBC, Sherlock/John, Sherlock/Dimmock or John/Dimmock
BBC Sherlock/John Something w/ Dimmock deciding to hit on John @ a bar since Sherlock is oblivious or Dimmock taking them to a gay bar or bringing a friend along to the Yard's pub night who hits on John and John like, sure I’m dtf and Sherlock recognizing it and getting all jealous...or just them at the bar and Dimmock starts hitting on Sherlock and John gets jealous...
BBC, Sherlock/John
Sherlock stumbles across John’s Tumblr account and discovers that John is following all sorts of blogs of artistic nudes (personally love justanothertart), and they are all men. He may even have a rapport with some of the bloggers, having conversations back and forth in posts and complimenting particularly artistic pics. Sherlock can’t understand why John “not gay” Watson would be following such blogs, and he especially can’t understand why it makes him so angry/hurt/insert jealous emotions here. He keeps his discovery to himself at first (maybe creates his own account and starts posting similar pics), but eventually there is a confrontation/John reveals he is bi and confesses he likes to pretend they are pics of Sherlock.
