When Conan Meets Johnlock

by

Molly Rob


If he (Sir Arthur Conan Doyle) were to rise from the grave tomorrow and read our interpretations, he would be less appalled at the thought of Watson eating Holmes' ass, than he would be at the fact that after a hundred years, Holmes is still popular. - tiger-in-the-flightdeck (tiger-in-the-flightdeck. tumblr post/ 94298179782/ you-may-marry-him-murder-him-or-do-anything-you)


It was another uneventful day in the world of the dead. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle was sitting on a grey chair, writing on a grey table.

'Sir Arthur Conan Doyle! Sir Arthur Conan Doyle!' A man with a voice Arthur couldn't recognise shouted as he ran closer. It was definitely an English accent, though his voice was different in a way that Arthur couldn't articulate. He set down his pen, and waited.

Minutes later, a man appeared, wearing attire that Arthur wasn't sure he approved of. It consisted of a pair of black trousers and a white shirt that bared his hairy arms for everyone to see. He squinted at the man, and when the man was too busy staring at him intently to say anything, Arthur spoke. 'Hello.'

This seemed to shake the man out of his amazement, and words flowed out of his mouth. 'Hi, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Erm… I mean good morning, sir. I come from 83 years after your death and I am a huge huge fan of your work…'

'Oh!' This piqued Arthur's interest. He didn't know his work would still be read after many years. 'Which one? The White Company? It is a lot of people's favourite. Is it yours as well?'

The man stammered. In his excitement in meeting his favourite author (and all the confusion regarding the 'afterlife' he just settled into), he has forgotten that Sir Arthur Conan Doyle had become very fed up with Holmes and his fans. Not knowing what to say, he tried to think of a new topic that could interest Sir Arthur.

'Well?' Arthur asked after a few seconds, looking a bit impatient.

'I… Er… Sherlock Holmes,' the man said hesitantly.

Arthur closed his eyes tightly in annoyance. Another one. Silently, he forced himself to calm down and it worked. Fortunately, being dead meant he had a lot of time to improve his patience. Also, it was a long time since a fan came visit him after he was dead. Sherlock Holmes fan or not, it was good to be missed.

'Well, thanks for enjoying my work, gentleman,' Arthur nodded to the man. 'Would you like to take an autograph with you?' The man, seeing that Sir Arthur Conan Doyle was not too angry at him, looked up, smiled and nodded.

Arthur took a fresh piece of paper and signed his name with a flourish. He also wrote the man's first name (which turned out to be Peter). Mr. Peter, Arthur wrote.

Peter watched Arthur's pen glide smoothly on the page with admiration. 'You are a good man, sir,' he spoke when Arthur finished, 'which makes me sad when other people disrespect your work.'

'How so?' To Arthur, the way almost everyone, including this Peter spent more time reading Sherlock Holmes and spent less time, if any time at all, reading his other work was already a disrespect to his more sophisticated historical novels.

'They write stories mocking your work as well as twisting the nature of Holmes and Watson's relationships,' Peter said angrily. 'You, sir, never intended Holmes and Watson to be queer, but people just don't understand that, and violate your work for their own pleasure,' he took a breath and clutched his fists, 'here, I will show you.'

Arthur watched silently, as the man took out a flat box which lighted up by pressing a button. In the small box, there was a lot of miniature books. Peter picked out one of them and flipped their pages just by touching the box. Magic! Sir Arthur had to hide his amazement. After years of believing in spiritualism against everyone's objection, he finally found proof that supernatural forces exist.

'Sir,' Peter passed the box to Arthur, who accepted it cautiously and found that he, like Peter could control the book by simply touching the light box as well. He also had magic powers! What was more shocking though, was the things that he read on the page.

'Sherlock groaned as John stroked his thick cock with gentle but firm stroke. His hands went up and down the shaft, while his mouth licked Sherlock's corona at the bottom of his head, then the frenum, just the way that would make Sherlock go crazy. Sherlock moaned and John continued his work, feeling with his slightly calloused fingers the way veins bulged under his skin. His own cock grew hard as he thought of Sherlock's hard, thick cock inside him.'

Arthur was speechless. Even the doctors he was acquainted with couldn't use terms like that during diagnosis without feeling embarrassed, yet the author of the book managed to include them in a piece of literature for general public to read! In a way, he was also impressed, that the author seemed to know as much about male anatomy as some of the most professional doctors he knew.

'That was…' He shook his head and went quiet with astonishment.

Peter must have took his silence as an encouragement to continue, because he flipped the pages again and handed the little box to Arthur. Arthur read out loud.

'John grabbed Sherlock's hands and intertwined their fingers, all the while starring steadily at his enraged father. "I love him, and I don't care what you think about it," he looked at Sherlock and repeated more softly this time. "I love you. I shouldn't have been worried about what other people think of you or our relationship. I shouldn't have been ashamed. I love you, Sherlock Holmes. And I am not afraid to show it. Not anymore," with that, he pulled Sherlock down by his coat collar and kissed him with all the love he could muster.'

Arthur stared at the little box. 'I have no words. Are you saying that this author wasted time writing this little story instead of a more serious novel?'

'I am afraid so, sir,' Peter pursed his lips solemnly, 'and she is not the only one. There are many other writers who write this sort of stuff. Millions of them. They even have a name for this kind of story. They call it "Johnlock smut".'

'This is a disgrace,' Arthur's moustache appeared to tremble with rage along with his whole body.

'That's what I thought, sir. The first time I read this.'

'What utmost absurdity!'

'I am sorry, sir.'

'A century has passed, and Sherlock Holmes is still popular!'

~the end~


AN: This is inspired by a post I read on tumblr (link above). It is not my best work, but I am uploading it anyway. The two Johnlock 'excerpts' are written by me. I don't usually write Johnlock (or smut), so please tell me how I did! Thanks for reading, and it would be really kind if you leave a review or comment! :)

~Molly Rob