Sherlock's Kiss [Fuhua Vampire Colleague]

Sherlock's fingers slid across John Watson's soft throat, and the palm of his hand was placed near the back of his head. John Watson was trembling all over, trying to keep still. His hand was extremely cold, bone-piercing cold, and brushed John Watson's hair indifferently. , Sherlock's face turned towards him somehow, those eyes were sipping thirsty, the tense and puzzled look on John Watson's face.

John Watson was alert, struggled between his strong and powerful arms, oh, his face was approaching, and both hands pressed the back of John Watson's head to prevent him from escaping to the other side.

John Watson looked at his pale face, his dark curly hair, his eyes burning like hot coals, shining like flint, with other intense emotions hidden in their bright pupils, John Watson and he Trembling slightly during the arm contest, he saw Sherlock's lips almost raised, as if something fierce and restless was hidden in his lips, and John Watson's hands were entangled with his arms, twitching uncontrollably Yes, Sherlock's strength is so strong that it is beyond what ordinary people can bear.

"Mr. Holmes! Let me go!" John Watson didn't know what happened to his sudden madness. His solemn and beautiful lips kept approaching John Watson's neck. John Watson was still trembling. He finally found Knowing the knack of resistance, John Watson slammed his hard forehead down on the tip of his high nose. Sherlock wailed backwards, his slanted upper body fell to the ground again, and his back and iron sheet hit heavily with a dull sound.

John Watson ran into the carriage and limped forward while leaning on the wall. He unscrewed an unlocked carriage door, hid in the carriage and closed the door, and the pale fingers that appeared out of nowhere grabbed hold of the door in the gap. The door panel, John Watson fell back on the bench, Sherlock Holmes drifted like a shadow, like a monarch, like a king, condescending, standing still in front of John Watson, smiling.

"Beautiful," was all he said.

John Watson propped his hands on the cushion behind him, blushing, and stammered, "What the hell are you doing..."

Sherlock quickly moved up to the tip of his nose, and his movement was extremely fast. He raised one of John Watson's hands, turned around, and leaned over to press a tender kiss on the back of John Watson's hand.Frightened, John Watson's dark blue eyes opened round, and it took a long time to realize that Sherlock was not kissing the back of his hand, Sherlock was sucking the blood from his hand, the cold reptile-like The tongue slid across John Watson's skin, and John Watson struggled desperately, but was firmly grasped.

Sherlock raised his arms toward the wall of the car, stacking John Watson's wrists against the wall, his eyes dark and hot, and then John Watson uttered a choked whimper beneath him. , Sherlock put his lips on his forehead, pressed his lips, and began to suck, lick the tiny stream of blood on John Watson's forehead. His tongue brushed over his eyelids, past his eyebrows and the damaged forehead, over and over again, John Watson's whole body became inexplicably hot because of this action, and he felt that the blood on the surface of his wound was almost wiped clean.

"So delicious." Sherlock murmured.

John Watson kicked Sherlock's body vigorously. Sherlock pulled him away and threw him back on the bench opposite. With his fingers locked on John Watson's soft Adam's apple, he lowered his face and kissed him again. John Watson's wounded forehead.

"It's so cute," he said, "John Watson, you are so cute, you are still a child, only 22 years old, young life, full of vitality..." Before Sherlock finished speaking, the window glass shattered, Outside the transparent window, the two riders were chasing after them under the moonlight, and their huge horseshoes trampled on the gravel and haystacks beside the railroad tracks.

The incredible force released him, and Sherlock looked at the window and showed another indifferent smile, "Oh," he said, "isn't this Donovan and Anderson, my old friend, I didn't expect them to be married Double pair, they bite really tight on the back of my ass, they make me happy every time I see them, tonight will not be boring."

John Watson silently crawled away from him on hands and feet. Sherlock was propped up in front of the car window. Two bullets that looked like flying knives grazed Sherlock's shoulders. Sparks were rubbed on the window frame, and another one only scratched Sherlock's coat fabric. Sherlock avoided the window, turned his head, grabbed John Watson who was trying to escape, and pulled his hand out of the car. John Watson Staggering behind Sherlock, trying desperately to free himself from his terrible wrist, Sherlock turned around and glared at him.

John Watson got angry, "I/fuck/you/damn, you are sick, how did I offend you! I provoked you! Let go of your damn hand!"

"Two steps faster, their bullets never have eyes, as long as they appear on my train, they will kill them all, whether they are people or ghosts."

"The one who wants to kill me is you! You just grabbed my throat twice!"

Sherlock moved forward all the way and pulled him forward vigorously. His eyes had never been normal since the moment the train started. The bottomless longing was like a lost person who had been starving for a long time on a desert island.

"You're out of luck tonight... hurry up!" Sherlock snapped in his face.

"I fucking limped a leg!" Just as John Watson finished speaking, his whole body was caught between his arms and lifted up like a blanket. "Let me go!" John Watson hung in his arms, Waving his hands and legs vigorously, chattering non-stop in the aisle, yelling all the way, the ghostly voice never stopped, those vulgar words, those ugly curses kept coming from John Wah The student popped out of his mouth, "God damn bastard! Let go of your hand!"

Sherlock didn't tell him to shut up, but sprinted to the front of the car at a fast speed, and pushed open the driver's glass door with mottled paint and decayed door steps.

The flight attendant was instructing a female driver to speed up. The female driver was about 20 years old, of Caucasian descent, with a pair of beautiful big eyes, a few pretty freckled cheeks, and a stiff black and red uniform. Outlining her slender waist and straight back, bows and emeralds dangled from the bright red vest, her long hair was tied into a neat ponytail, also tied with a green ribbon, the young woman quickly looked at her with an observing gaze She glanced at the two people who were confronting each other at the door of the cab, and then turned her attention back to the instrument panel and mechanical manipulator in her hand.

John Watson was thrown into the corner of the cab, his small body hit the iron wall, Sherlock pinched his chin, his eyes eroded on his face, he stood silently in front of John Watson , with his strong fingers around John Watson's chin, he brought the tip of his nose to John Watson's earlobe to touch the outline of the artery above him, then raised his fist angrily, and smashed it against John Watson's cheek, with an exhausted expression on his face. The full expression escaped from John Watson's body.

John Watson was taken aback by his capricious behavior, but John Watson was still stubborn, there was no fear in his dark blue eyes, only countless surprises and resistance.

"Jasmine, hold on tight, and don't slow down after turning." The purser leaned over to the female driver's ear and continued to instruct her in a down-to-earth tone, and Jasmine nodded.

"I see. I will drive as you say, Mr. Lestrade."

Then the purser named Lestrade fixed his cold eyes on Sherlock's coat, "Sherlock? Why is he in the car? How can you allow him to come up? Don't think about it! Your brother What? Hurry up and help him!"

"Protect this John Watson, Lestrade, I think I'm out of control." Sherlock stopped attacking John Watson with his eyes. Relieved, Sherlock took a step back and jumped out of the cab. Between the opening and closing of the frosted glass door, Sherlock's figure disappeared outside like smoke.

John Watson was looking out from the cab, but he couldn't even search for half a shadow. Lestrade attracted his gaze back from the door, "Hey? John Watson? Why did you appear again? You Got on the wrong car again?"

"Where did he go? My God, who is he? How did he move so fast? Is he crazy? Something out of his mind? Do you know what he just did to me?" John Watson stood Inside the blurred glass, his face was full of anxiety, his heart was beating violently on his chest.

John Watson turned his face and looked at Lestrade full of doubts.

"He's just our conductor," said Lestrade. "Mind your own business, John Watson," he smiled. "He's sure to throw you off the train before dawn. Until then, shut up, Don’t worry about anything, just pretend you didn’t see anything.”

"Someone is chasing him outside, isn't that so! Those people are obviously going to kill him! Is he going to deal with those two shotguns now? How can he handle it? He should hide!"

"It's impossible to hide. Those two have been chasing this train for ten years. If they could hide, they would have escaped long ago. They spared them time and time again, and they chased them again and again. They are determined to want Sherlock and Mike Croft's life, but this matter is a personal grievance between the Fu family brothers, and has nothing to do with you, the little doctor who opened the clinic. How about you, come here, sit down, sit here, yes, there is a piece of paper here Stool, sit down, John Watson, your eyes are so big that you are about to pop out, calm down, here is dry bread, there is dry cheese, let me pour you some water, eat and drink, wait until the train stops Then go home."

John Watson sat on the chair in shock, the bread in front of him was dry and hard, the water in the cup was cloudy as if it had been salvaged from a stream, and the only sounds in his ears were the sound of mechanical gears and the steam from the charcoal stove. dull rumble.

"Is Mr. Holmes in danger? Is he going to confront the two shotgunners?"

Lestrade didn't answer his question directly, he turned John Watson's straightforward words elsewhere, "What did Sherlock just do to you?"

"Some... incomprehensible behavior." John Watson lowered his head, his face seemed to be dyed a dull red by the afterglow of the setting sun, "I don't understand." John Watson looked at him with a piece of skin peeled off by the iron sheet On the back of the hand, even bandaging can be saved, the injury has been completely stopped by Sherlock's licking, "Maybe he saw that I was injured and wanted to stop the bleeding or something... But I really don't understand, why It has to be... that... and those words that he didn't understand, he looked like he was crazy, he was very excited, his eyes were burning at me..." John Watson was a little embarrassed.

"He licked you?" Lestrade looked at the wound on his forehead lightly, and shook his head, "He hasn't done this for many years, and he really lost control tonight. He just woke up, and his stomach is still empty. At this time, he has to eat a beef meal on the train first, but there is a little accident, Jasmine, you hurry up and ask the cook to get some ingredients to put in the dining car, so that he can have them immediately after he has dealt with those two annoying spirits later. Stuff can satisfy your hunger."

Jasmine said very little, nodded silently, pressed the call button on the front of the car, and communicated with the person on the other side in a very soft voice. Her voice was very small, and the train itself was already full of noisy noises when it was running. , even John Watson, who was sitting behind her, could not hear the conversation. John Watson wondered if the person she was talking to had extraordinary hearing ability.

"You haven't answered a single question so far, purser!" John Watson slammed the table with his fist.

"Please call me Lestrade. Except for Mycroft, everyone on this train calls me that. I have met people like you who are very curious about this train before. I am not scaring you, you know Knowing too much is not necessarily a good thing, the less you know, the easier it is to get out, that overly curious person has since embarked on a very dangerous path, and is living a life with a dagger hanging on his head." This Lestrade The voice was cut off suddenly.

That Jasmine didn't turn her head, her voice was still so weak, "That person is you, Mr. Lestrade."

"Shut up Jasmine, interrupting is not a virtue, and concentrate on the work in hand," Lestrade talked to John Watson again, "Sherlock is different in the world, but he is just your passer-by and has nothing to do with you, You can't keep him in your heart, this is the principle of protecting yourself, if you have lived a happy and comfortable life before, and you still want to be happy and comfortable, stop all questions."

John Watson was about to explode some grievances again, his stomach full of anxiety and doubts had nowhere to go, when suddenly there was a loud bang above his head, Lestrade stood up from his chair, and looked nervously at the direction of the roof , "They're all on the roof! Hunters with no rules and no distances! Wait a minute, I heard Mycroft's voice."

As soon as the words fell, fierce gunshots rang out outside the roof of the car. Several rounds were fired in a row, causing ripples of echoes in the quiet and cold night sky. Pulling down an iron ladder leading to the roof of the car, the ladder was suspended by chains under the sunroof on the roof, Lestrade struggled to climb up, and shouted to the outside of the sunroof, "Mycroft!"

John Watson hurriedly followed behind, his lame leg making a heavy sound on the iron aisle, and he staggered to the bottom of the ladder.

Lestrade grabbed the ladder and lowered his body and yelled at him, "Go back to the cab, little doctor! This is for your own good!"

"Mr. Holmes is up there?"

"You mean Sherlock? Sherlock told you to stay in the cab, you still don't understand what he means? He's protecting you. Go away, John Watson, what can you do as a lame doctor, go The outside is just to die!"

There were a few more gunshots, Lestrade gave up arguing with him, turned around and climbed up, and disappeared outside the skylight.

John Watson stood at the bottom of the stairs breathing fast, raised his head and looked at the small piece of sky shining with stars, the stars receded rapidly, the night fog was thick and the night air was damp and cold, John Watson reached out and grabbed the iron stairs , raised his foot, and climbed a bit.

He raised his face, only a few steps away from the skylight, he was only breathing heavily and his heart beating violently in his chest.

John Watson should be the person who dislikes death the least in the world. His consciousness of wanting to live is stronger than anyone else's. Danger, danger, endless danger, John Watson's sensitive intuition has been clamoring in his body to tell him the roof of the car There will be a terrible situation, but at this time, for some reason, John Watson wants to get closer, and get closer. He doesn't want to just retreat like this, and then all the secrets about this train will end here.

John Watson climbed to the highest point, poked his head out, the arrogant wind on the roof whizzed through his hair, his short bangs flew in the air, John Watson climbed out and knelt on the On the roof of the car, I couldn't stand up because of the furious wind, and I had a panoramic view of all the scenery in front of me.

Sherlock's figure looms majestically in the center of the roof, his graceful silhouette flowing through the mist, suggesting his immense power.

Looking at him, thought John Watson, in the night mist, against the shadows of humble trees growing from the roots of the earth, he was like a phantom, a white phantom in a dream, like a pale ghost in water. The ghost stood far away on the roof of the car, with Mycroft Holmes and Lestrade standing behind him. The two behind him were silent, like Sherlock's followers.

The two gunmen had already moved from the horses to Sherlock's eyes. The silver muzzles of the guns were shining gray under the moonlight. The two gunmen were wearing heavy leather jackets and a soft hunting cap. The one was a young mixed-race black man with thin cheeks, a man of considerable size, and a thick, rough beard above his lips. Judging from his demeanor, he might be her husband or her lover.

The two gorgeous black horses were still chasing the train and the owner on top of the train firmly near the rear of the car.

Hearing Sherlock's laughing voice, the king's laughter drifted in the wind: "I can break Anderson's thigh again and make him lie down for half a year before he can sit up by himself, or this time it's your turn, Donovan, I I have never been rough on you, but this time I can consider using some careful thought on you, and remove the joints of your body one by one, so that you will never want to chase me again in this life."

"Last time we were negligent and were defeated by you. This time it won't happen. I will fill your whole body with this sterling silver ammunition, so that the moonlight can pass through your body as easily as through a window screen."

Seeing Lestrade take a step forward, Mycocroft fixed his shoulders to prevent him from being impulsive. Lestrade reprimanded the two gunmen and said in a low voice, "Donovan, Anderson, For the sake of me and you two being old acquaintances, don't embarrass the Holmes brothers anymore. They are not really worthy of your hunting targets. They are not the ones who do all kinds of evil. You can't stubbornly treat these two brothers because of their origins. bias."

"Boss, the reason why I still call you boss shows that I still respect you," Donovan said with no nostalgia in his cold eyes, "but you betrayed the hunter clan ten years ago and took refuge in this twisted and dirty clan , work for these soulless beasts, you are a traitor, you can't wash away this, they are the descendants of the devil, you are bewitched by their temptation, come back to our ranks, boss, There's still time before you're completely converted by them."

Lestrade looked like he wanted to jump over and beat them up with his bare hands on the roof of the train, his eyes were red with anger, "They never took the initiative to seduce me, I chose to stay on this train, Donovan, can't you recall how many times Sherlock showed mercy, allowing the two of you to go home with half your life and reflect on each time?"

"Oh, Sherlock Holmes, you are playing tricks on human beings, like a cat catching a mouse and letting it go, poking with your sharp claws, you are playing with us in the palm of your hand, trying to get our forgiveness and mercy, but we will not gullible."

Sherlock was extremely indifferent and did not make any rebuttals or explanations, "The grievances between you and my race have existed since ancient times. I never hope to resolve them. Only bullets can relieve them. But you underestimate me too much. You can't hit me. Let's shoot."

"Brother, wait! Why did our new passenger escape?" Mycroft was concentrating on facing the enemy, and at this moment he turned his head in the wind and saw John Watson's appearance. This look reminded John Watson of a Huge black vulture.

Sherlock immediately turned around and met John Watson's eyes. John Watson stood up on the roof of the car with his knees. He was surprised to find a, and then a pale and cold palm appeared on the roof of the car. John Watson Watson watched in horror as those dim and frightening shadows were crawling out from the bottom window of the car. These vaguely human-like things climbed up the roof of the car like snakes. These strange figures slowly appeared in the darkness. , all pale people, are coming out of the train one by one under the eyes of John Watson, at least twenty or thirty, crawling collectively on the roof of the car with all fours, inhuman pupils, naked/exposed corners of the mouth / With snow-white fangs, glowing with the light of the moon, surrounded the two gunmen.

John Watson didn't have time to think about the scene in front of him. In the next second, a huge smog covered his eyes. John Watson's cheek was held by cold hands. He was tens of meters away at the moment before. , at this moment, the distance was so close that it was breathless, sticking to John Watson's heels, he struck with a beautiful posture, his arms and wrists were like night, John Watson was fixed by him and couldn't move his head Moved, forced to look directly into those pale, silent, cold eyes, the gray eyes seemed to pierce the darkness, piercing directly on John Watson's heart.

Sherlock spoke to him with an incomparably gentle voice, and the bottomless black bass carried a silent hypnotic power, which contained mysterious and unspeakable comfort and strong sedation, penetrating into John Watson's limbs, "My John...sleep, you are tired...Dear John, you don't need your testimony this night, you have longed for sleep and rest...a soft bed and sweet dreams are waiting for you...sleep ...John, there is nothing worth worrying about... Close your eyes, these eyelids look tired... Use them to cover everything, and all the ominousness will leave you, go to sleep... Close Close your eyes, my John."

The voice lingered repeatedly, it sounded gentle, but in fact it was tough, like an order. The words made people feel an irresistible magic power in their ears. John Watson trembled inexplicably, standing in front of him helplessly, his eyes fixed on In his pupils, his arms hung heavily on both sides of his body, his fingertips began to go numb, and he blinked blankly at Sherlock, his whole body was light and almost weightless, and he collapsed limply.

Sherlock hugged him tightly, with faint flames in his dark eyes, John Watson drowned in his arms, fell, he saw the pain in Sherlock's eyes, the pain kept tightening his heart, John Watson Sheng fell down again, Sherlock hugged his body tightly, not letting him kneel down, John Watson couldn't escape from his clear eyes, there was an amazing ability to absorb souls, testing John Watson Willpower and courage to live.

"I dont want to sleep……"

"Go to sleep, my John."

"Oh, no..." John Watson stared into his morning star eyes, "what's wrong with me..."

"Come on, sleep in my arms."

"No...I don't want to..." John Watson managed to squeeze out the last trace of resistance.

The gray vision was filled with dense fog, and the unfathomable pupils were like two black dahlias in full bloom. The surrounding world was completely cut off by these eyes. John Watson felt so small, and his willpower almost collapsed Almost lost all defenses.

"You are so strong, so tenacious, John Watson, let me kiss you, open your heart and let me in." Sherlock lowered his beautiful eyelashes, lowered his lips, and the lip line was so beautiful John Watson looked at his lips approaching him in a dazed drowsiness, soft, cold, and intimately pressed on John Watson's lips, the lips were against him, and the lips were hidden. The sharp touch lightly brushed John Watson's thin and small lips, and John Watson trembled violently under his lips as if dying, and a low and broken grunt came out of his throat, like a frightened animal .

"Yes, that's it. Listen to me, my John."

Then the consciousness no longer had any response, John Watson completely obeyed him, cut off everything with his eyelids, and fell into endless darkness.

The author has something to say:

First of all:

I wish a happy Chinese New Year, and I wish all the children's shoes a happy family (sex) and good health

For those who celebrate the Chinese New Year, this chapter must be given to you who want to read it as a congratulatory gift

Because the author is going on a blind date tomorrow on the second day of the Lunar New Year (how is it possible~

I want to go back to my natal family (no!

Going to catch a few vampires and play mahjong (yes, this is the right answer!

Ask for favorites, ask for favorites, ask for favorites, ask for breaking news and chat (quickly tell me what kind of meat you want to see

In short, come back on the third day of the new year (February 2) to update the next chapter