Sherlock's Kiss [Fuhua Vampire Colleague]

Sherlock forced a smile, "You are still the same as before, John, once you meet what you want to achieve, you don't care about the consequences."

John Watson squeezed his cane tightly, "I don't care about equivalent exchange at all. I don't want to live in the dark of fate anymore. I look like a fool in everyone's eyes because I can't remember anything. Wake up, this is not my willing amnesia."

Sherlock withdrew his smile, "Your memories may not be all good things... John... has some very terrible memories, even if they are, are you willing to accept them?"

John Watson nodded resolutely, Sherlock's eyes softened, and his voice was gentle, "I see, I will try my best to fulfill your wish, just give me a few more days, John."

In the next few days, John Watson no longer mentioned this matter all the time. He still had the spirit of not giving up on the black hole entrance of the power plant. He often went to the bottom of the mountain wall, crossed his legs, and looked at the naked The empty mountain walls look all day long.

He wants to get out.

One day, Little John stood behind him with his hands behind his back like a little adult and said, "I want to go out too...but my dad won't let me."

John Watson sat on the ground, turned his head in surprise, looked at him who appeared quietly, and frowned, "Then you should obey your father's teachings."

The smile on Little John's face was a bit sinister. John Watson felt that he was somewhat different from Sherlock. There was often a stern light in Little John's eyes, that kind of beast that was far from human nature. John Watson has no idea what kind of blood race he will become when he grows up.

"The voltage device, when are you going to tell my dad? You convinced him, and we can all hang out."

John Watson stood up, waved his crutch rudely and strode forward, leaving this dirty power plant, "You don't need to remind me so painstakingly, kid, you know that the activation of that voltage device needs my kind sacrifice, I would not do such a thing."

Little John bit his lower lip and muttered, "But in this way, you will be trapped here forever, and the livestock that have worked hard in the power plant, they have been here for generations to breed and survive as food, you can also took them away."

John Watson looked displeased at the hard-working workers, "I don't know if that black hole will appear again."

Little John grinned, waving his little arms cutely, and said in a cold voice, "So, if it happens again next time, will you consider this approach?"

John Watson ignored him, left him behind, and with a heavy heart, walked out of the power plant, went into a hidden alley, and returned to the palace through the secret shortcut that Sherlock had told him.

In this splendid and prosperous city, food, wine, and gold and precious stones are piled up everywhere, and the rest is occupied by machinery and metal. He basically does not need to climb the stairs, and there are always various convenient elevators to carry him. The mechanical elevator slowly ascended, and there were rollers and cables hanging all around. There were countless lights on the streets of the city. It took John Watson a long time to understand that they were using lights instead of twinkling stars.

No one can endure long darkness, not even the children born of the night.

Occasionally, there are a few living people passing by on the street. They are purely ordered by the blood race to carry goods. Human beings are treated as low-level labor here. According to Sherlock, 13 years ago, before he took full control of the city, the people here Human beings are still treated as food animals, but now the situation is much better. The blood races are bustling, and the children are huddled together, crawling around in the streets. John Watson is standing on the balcony of the palace, looking out at the city, Sherlock said He liked this place very much, and it was regarded by many blood races as their hometown and destination, but Sherlock was willing to give up all this wealth and status for John Watson and go outside.

When John Watson thought of this, he wanted to restore his memory even more. When he thought of the passionate night a few days ago, he was unable to push him away under the temptation of Sherlock with all his strength, even Sherlock was so rude afterwards. Although John Watson was angry with him, he still couldn't resent him from the bottom of his heart.

John Watson wondered if he had some potential for self-abuse, no, no, no, no, John Watson is a person who knows how to keep himself clean and self-respecting, he has no doubt about it.

He is a person who knows how to protect himself, and knows how to entertain and enjoy. He knows how precious life is. He never abuses himself. He occasionally speaks foul language and gets angry from time to time, but he doesn't do it in front of women. He is an authentic and conservative gentleman in front of outsiders, but only in front of Sherlock, he can't hide his true personality. Sherlock knows everything about him, but he knows nothing about him except Sherlock's beauty and elegance .

Sherlock's technique on the bed was terrific. John Watson's body suddenly trembled slightly and began to feel hot. Sherlock entered him so wonderfully that there was only a crackling sound in the bed, stirring John Watson's body. Watson's rationality, with the help of Sherlock's power and wild speed, aroused electricity in him. He has never had such a tacit and violent sex/love with anyone in the past 13 years. It is a bit like a dream. He felt dizzy in bed, and Sherlock was leaning over his eyes, pushing him, and the dirty but emotional voice, those unspeakable kisses and happy gasps, lingered in the room, In an instant, the whole world was empty, and only he and Sherlock were left. In John Watson's view, Sherlock's expression when he reached an orgasm in his body was like a firework, extremely rare and magnificent. Holding his sculptural flawless back from time to time, feeling the trembling of Sherlock's ejaculation and the wildness of his body, lost in the fantastic dream...John Watson shook his head quickly, God, he couldn't Stop thinking about it like this.

Only then did John Watson suddenly realize that Sherlock had already come out of the study and was standing beside him with a smile.

John Watson blushed immediately. Sherlock was dressed elegantly, with a gorgeous pure white robe, dragging on the ground, only missing a pure gold crown. gem shine.

"John, you have a lot on your mind." Sherlock said with a smile.

"You are so rude." John Watson complained to him in a low voice, "Why don't you say a word and stand beside me and listen to my heart."

"I can't help it. You are so engrossed in watching the scenery. You can't even notice me when I stand so close. It's not my fault. Besides, I'm even more wronged about eavesdropping. I I am naturally able to accept the magnetic field of human thoughts. Whenever I go to a crowded place, my brain will be so noisy that it will fly like a bunch of bees. This instinct that I cannot get rid of makes me suffer, but sometimes ...this ability...occasionally can surprise me."

"Hmph." John Watson snorted uncomfortably. "By the way," he said, "how is your progress in helping me recover my memory? You have been too busy to see me recently. I am an outlier here , if you don’t entertain me, I’ll have to stay in the power plant all day and be silly.”

Sherlock smiled distressedly, "John, the alchemy formula to heal you...I've finished it..." Sherlock was suddenly worried, but he still didn't veto John Watson's determination, "If you want to Try it now, I'm ready."

John Watson took a deep breath, nodded and said, "Where to proceed."

"You'd better find a place to lie down."

They walked through echoing golden corridors, and Sherlock opened the door for him, and stepped under the curtain.

"What am I going to do, Sherlock?"

Sherlock said quietly: "Sit down first, John, and listen to me carefully, I have already injected myself, and I have done experiments with animals, but these are of little significance, because I can absorb and assimilate All the toxins and side effects, and the structure of animals and humans is fundamentally different, I have not actually used this drug on humans, I should go to the power plant and invite one or two volunteers to try the risk."

"No, Sherlock, let me lead the charge, and don't bother anyone else."

Sherlock said, "I knew you would suggest that, so I didn't act."

"What's in this formula and potion?" John Watson walked to the bedside table. Sherlock had already predicted that he would be eager to try it. The potion and needle tube were all placed on a silver plate waiting to be used.

Sherlock came over and said, "You don't know better, there are things in it that you don't like or even accept, I have to tell you, alchemy requires human blood, and some other cursed materials, but I promise, I haven't hurt a living person."

John Watson sat down on the soft big bed, put the crutches aside, raised his hands and rubbed his face nervously, "It's dangerous, isn't it?"

"I won't let you die, but I can't predict what kind of equivalent exchange it will be, but I will definitely not let you die, your life is my life, but there is indeed an uncertain risk in it, John, Have you really made up your mind?"

"There is an indelible bond between us, isn't it? Sherlock, I want to remember you so much. As long as it is about you, I want to remember. This is the only way to save my life. I can't just live like this for the rest of my life." Amnesia continues, blind life, orthodox medicine can't help me, I can't foolishly look forward to the day when medicine is developed enough, I can't live so long. Do it, come on, I'm in that power plant these days When you sit in a daze, you have already been mentally prepared."

Sherlock smiled feebly, "Are you afraid of needles, doctor?"

John Watson also laughed, "It depends on who gives me the needle. When I was young, I had a high fever. When my father gave me the needle, it was like a mosquito bite. Before I could react, he pulled out the needle."

"I will do as well as your father."

"Well," said John Watson sadly, "Sherlock, anyway, thank you for taking me in this terrible place. I'm afraid there is a deep affection between you and me, but I just don't remember you, and you don't remember me at all. I don't mind, I think, even if we never met before, even if I choose to be friends with you again, I am willing, I like you very much... No matter whether we have crossed paths before... I have to admit ... I fell in love with you again ... please begin."

Sherlock looked at him, speechless for a long time, his eyes were as foggy gray as smoke and dust, and he couldn't see through it for a while. "Okay," he said, "hold out your hand."

John Watson rolled up his sleeves and raised his arms in front of Sherlock. Sherlock picked up a delicate glass needle tube. The color of the liquid inside was really weird, bright red, but John Watson did not raise any objections to this. .

The needle was slowly pushed into John Watson's vein. Sherlock's movements were gentle and skillful, as if it was not the first time for a doctor to take care of a person. John Watson smiled at him, and this smile brought a touch of warmth to the room. atmosphere.

The depths of Sherlock's pupils were dark, and his lips were tightly closed, watching John Watson's reaction intently. Then he pulled out the needle, and John Watson didn't cry out in pain.

Sherlock lifted his chin to check his eyeballs, then took his temperature and pulse, "Do you feel anything?" He asked sitting next to John Watson.

"A little sleepy." John Watson blinked his heavy eyelids wearily, his mouth was sweet and greasy, as if something was slowly flowing in his nasal cavity and seeped into his mouth, "What is this?" John Watson asked. Sheng frowned, raised his hand to cover his mouth, a strong sense of vomiting hit him, he retched his stomach, and a pool of red blood suddenly appeared in the palm of his hand.

The vomiting almost forced him out of tears. John Watson found that he was indeed crying uncontrollably. He reached out and wiped his face. Those were not tears, but two rivers of blood oozing from his eyeballs.

"Sher... Sherlock... I'm bleeding."

"I know." Sherlock supported him to lie down, with heavy and gloomy emotions in his eyes, he anxiously took a handkerchief soaked in hot water, and wiped away the blood and tears on John Watson's face, nosebleeds and hemorrhoids in his mouth. Can't stop bleeding.

"Be patient, John, this is a sign that the blood in your head has dispersed and is flowing out through your seven orifices. If you feel pain, please tell me immediately."

John Watson choked on the nosebleed on the pillow, he coughed violently to the side, and Sherlock kept wiping the large amount of plasma overflowing from the corner of his mouth with a handkerchief.A burning pain brushed John Watson's forehead in an instant. He grabbed the bed sheet to endure the pain. The burning sensation spread in his body. Sticky on his upper and neck, a heavy blow hit his temple.

John Watson screamed hoarsely, and put his cold palm on his forehead, stroking him, John Watson violently vomited on the pillow, and he spit out a large mouthful of thick blood that was hard to swallow on the pillow. Burning pain, he struggled in the bed, his body twisted in pain, he opened his eyes again in the blur of blood and tears, the originally pure and charming eyeballs were now filthy, and John Watson could only see a large field of roses in his vision It was bright red, and the intense red made his eyes sting. Sherlock reached out and gently covered his eyelids.

"Damn...I'm uncomfortable..." John Watson felt his head spinning, the space around him was spinning fast, he was falling, like falling from a waterfall, sweating all over his body, he stretched out his fingers and grabbed the sheet with all his might , the limbs twitched like spasms, "Sher... Sherlock... save me... I'm dying..."

But he could only hear a strong tinnitus and impact, and he couldn't hear any of Sherlock's calls. John Watson once again yelled a miserable wail from his throat. The tone was full of cold sorrow, like a melancholy scream , complaining of pain and despair.

Many messy pictures were quickly wiped from his mind.

In severe pain and dizziness, John Watson saw his father sitting at a simple desk copying, and his mother smiling and holding Harley, who was less than one year old, pacing by the window, coaxing Harley to sleep , the mother saw John Watson, put a finger on his lips to signal him to be quiet, and then the picture changed, and he returned to his elementary school, and his classmates were in the corridor because they sympathized with his crutches. One after another gave way to him, the teacher regarded him as a useless person, and never let him participate in the labor class. John Watson was depressed for several semesters because of this. He could not participate in the cricket match. A classmate of mine, wrestled and ran around on the lawn secretly with a cane. He never laughed when he was a child.The picture is flying fast again, like a comic book. At the same time, John Watson is trembling on the mattress, like a dying person, as if he might stretch his legs at any time and die. I saw a lonely figure in my mind, carrying a medicine box and running on the streets of London. That figure was none other than him.

John Watson walked around the dark intersection and walked to the door of his familiar clinic. In the middle of the night, the surroundings were dead silent, the sky was semi-dark, the kerosene lamp at the door of the clinic overflowed with faint yellow light, half of the moon was hidden in dark clouds Here, John Watson, who looks very young, is holding a medicine box. He turned around as if he had seen a ghost, and leaned against the door in surprise. A tired and poor prostitute stood behind him, holding his hands pitifully. Pray for his healing.

What she said was exactly the same as what John Watson said on this bed. She said miserably, "I'm dying, help me, doctor."

As soon as the picture turned, John Watson was standing in the operating room, candles and oil lamps were burning, and the only small light bulb was hanging coldly above John Watson's head, holding the prostitute's bloody The heart was sweating profusely doing CPR for her with bare hands, "Come back to life," John Watson prayed over and over again in the mask, he looked at the prostitute's cut chest, the internal organs were submerged in the hemorrhage, Blood red, "Come back to life, please, come back to life." John Watson murmured unwillingly.A nurse was already scared to death by the side, and an assistant gave up all hope and sighed with his back to John Watson. Only John Watson was fighting on the operating table, time and time again, refusing to admit defeat to the prostitute. /Female presses the heart.

There was an unprecedented throbbing pain in the brain, and the veins on John Watson's forehead bulged. He gritted his teeth and slammed his head on the pillow, coughing up a mouthful of blood. He suddenly came to a remote place. In the cemetery, he had an extra shovel in his hand. He looked at the pale body of the prostitute lying deep in the mud pit with no expression on his face, without even a coffin. John Watson bent down, shoveled up a large piece of soil, laid On the whore's face, covering all her expressions.

Memories surfaced one by one, and John Watson became more and more painful. He kept choking on his own blood. These 13-year-old blood flowed from his head desperately to find a gap, and his ears He was also bleeding out, soaking a large piece of pillow cover. He clenched his fists and couldn't help biting his tongue. When he closed his eyes tightly, he could feel strong fingers opening his mouth and stuffing it between his tongue and teeth. Taking out a handkerchief, John Watson bit the handkerchief, his body twitching uncontrollably.

He suddenly left the bleak cemetery, and there were more and more people around him. Suddenly, he was hit by someone on the stairs. Several men in peaked caps bowed to him apologetically, and quickly disappeared from his sight. John Wah Sheng put down his duffel bag at the station and began to rummage through his pocket for his ticket with a confused face.

After a while, John Watson was abandoned by the train and the crowd alone. He sat miserably on the empty station platform, thinking about the medical conference that he had turned into a bubble. At this moment, a black train with a whole body painted Like a snake, it slipped into the track and appeared in front of him.This dragon of the dark night moves nimbly and fast. Each compartment is brightly lit, music and laughter waft in the banquet hall, sparks and black smoke are emitted from the chimney, and the name of the fire dragon is engraved on the front of the car. Scarlet Rebirth, Under the light of the rising morning light, the beautiful bold characters with gold and silver borders burst out with thousands of rays of light, which is very conspicuous.

In the blink of an eye, at night, a proud figure stood under the mighty chimney, and the earth receded under his feet. He compared the forest and the wilderness, and the long windbreaker was like black wings spreading behind him, wild His hair was billowing in the wind, his expression and his beautiful posture were clamoring for his incomparable strength and arrogance everywhere, white smoke spouted from the chimney, roaring into the air, standing between the smoke and mist The one is Sherlock Holmes.John Watson sat on the pitch-black roof, opened his big blue eyes in disbelief, and looked at him in amazement.

The moon, soaring into the sky, was huge, incomparably huge, like a large silver disc within reach, John Watson leaned on the top of the treetop, this time, he was no longer alone, Sherlock was beside him Behind him was an innocent smile, his cheeks were so close to him that he couldn't see clearly, the light of the stars and the moon shone on Sherlock's hazy facial features, which was peaceful and beautiful.

Sherlock whispered to him on the hotel bed: "Grab a handful of sand and put it in your palm, what will happen to it? The life that death wants to reap is like the sand that escapes from your fingers. You can't keep it." live... John..."

John Hua grasped the bed frame in a dazed way, looked at the naked/naked him dripping with sweat, feeling the sweet pain of being separated from him for the first time.

The violent wind hit his face in an instant, and the loud noise of the train wheels echoed in his ears. John Watson felt the fierce and bloody wind blowing his hair. He knelt on the rear of the train blankly, A pair of bloody hands appeared beside his knees. These hands were unbearable to see. There was a crack in the palm pierced by nails. John Watson reached out and held him.

Sherlock climbed up from the rear of the train, still smiling bravely, appeared in front of him, and kissed him.

John Watson was dragged into the darkness, and in a blink of an eye, Moriarty appeared behind Sherlock like a ghost, smiling coldly, Sherlock knelt weakly on the roof of the car, and John Watson felt heartbroken immediately The pain of cracking lungs, whether physically or mentally, he felt very desperate, blood splattered in the air, and John Watson watched Sherlock's arm being twisted, torn, and left his body.

At this time, "No!" John Watson yelled in pain on the bed, he spat the handkerchief mixed with blood and saliva to the pillow, and screamed miserably and hoarsely, "Let him go! Let him go! I beg you! I have never begged anyone! I beg you to let him go!" John Watson slammed his head on the pillow frantically, and his whole body collapsed. As if falling into a hot coal fire, real tears flowed out, diluting the blood plasma, and clear tears slid down his dirty face, John Watson trembled slightly in despair and excruciating pain, and let out a dying gasp, " Don't die... Sherlock... don't die..."

Sherlock couldn't watch anymore, he pulled John Watson from the mattress, hugged him tightly in his arms, "John...don't be afraid...calm down... I'm alive, I'm here."

Under his embrace, John Watson kept sobbing and crying, turning all the longing and guilt of the past 13 years into tears. He closed his eyes tightly and let the tears slide down, dripping on Sherlock's face. John Watson raised his hand and grasped Sherlock's skirt with anxiety.

Sherlock hugged him, kissed his forehead, and comforted him, "John, you're having a nightmare, be strong, wake up and see me, I'm fine."

That night on the roof was terrible, it was a night of slaughter, a sea of ​​blood soaked with evil, John Watson was trapped in this memory and almost collapsed, his heart and his soul were almost broken, Sherlock's broken arm made him heartbroken, and once the scene of heartbreak is remembered, it will never be erased.

He remembered everything that happened on the Scarlet Rebirth, this row of destroyed fire dragons, once he walked in, it felt more wonderful than stepping into the most exclusive hotel in the world.The chandeliers in the banquet hall are resplendent, the oil lamps are flickering and colorful, the mirrors and tableware inlaid with silver, a group of people gather on the sofa to chat, some people are playing the piano on the platform tinklingly, human waiters are constantly busy Serving food and drinks, the whole hall is filled with brilliant light and laughter.

Avoiding everyone's eyes and ears, John Watson and Sherlock lay happily on the roof of the car looking at the stars. They interlocked their fingers, embraced each other intimately, and kissed deeply. The fire dragon roared and moved forward under them, a huge The wheels of the car turned faster and faster under the control of an excellent mechanic, and the night with Sherlock was almost over in an instant.Every day, he wished that the nights would be longer and that he would spend more time with Sherlock.

When Sherlock leaned over to speak in his ear in the moonlight, it sounded like the most beautiful music in the world to John Watson.

Come to think of it... John Watson remembered it all.

John Watson's cries gradually subsided, and he slowly became quiet in Sherlock's arms. His heavy panting became calm, and his breathing became longer. He no longer spit out choking blood, and his nose no longer bleeds. The tears in the eyes were still flowing, hanging on the eyelashes, and with the slight trembling of the eyelids, the tears fell on Sherlock's clothes, and John Watson slowly let go of the fingers holding his skirt, and fell down , tired and fell asleep.

The author has something to say:

The next chapter is about to start spilling dog blood (isn't it already started?

Some children's shoes feel that Xiao Xia is too mature and not at all like the Xiao Xia who failed to develop EQ

And how can HE be so heavy, I believe that the author's dog blood skills will be perfect (en serious appearance