Sherlock's Kiss [Fuhua Vampire Colleague]

"What did you say?" John Watson tried to argue again, "I'm not...I'm not a vampire..."

Under Stanford's military uniform, he had a chubby belly. He was familiar with the existence of vampires, quietly staring at John Watson's expression, "I don't hate vampires, at least not now, there are werewolves everywhere, In today's world, werewolves are our common enemy."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Come with me, Dr. Watson." Stanford greeted the officers and soldiers next to him, and asked them to properly accommodate General Patton and his subordinates, as well as the injured civilians who followed the carriage.

These civilians were even a little anxious to keep John Watson, "You can't take our doctor away, what will we do if we don't have him!"

"You will be sent to the poorhouse in Oxfordshire, where there are priests and doctors as well, and you will be well taken care of," Stanford assured, patted his chest.

"But what are you going to do to the doctor?"

Stanford smiled honestly, "I'm an old acquaintance with him, I want to catch up with him, so as not to murder him, you say yes, doctor."

"It's okay, you go to the poorhouse, I'll be fine." John Watson sent them away with a soft voice.

Stanford opened the way ahead, crossing the streets of Oxfordshire. John Watson looked up and saw gray fighter planes passing overhead, the engines roaring, the propeller blades crackling at the tail of the wings, and thick Smoke gushed out from the back of the fighter plane, rolled up with thick smoke, and galloped away into the distance. Judging from the color and style of the fighter plane, it belonged to our own people.

Stanford explained, "The air raid troops sent by the royal family are rushing to other towns to support them. However, the speed is a bit late because of the huge disparity between us and the German army. These air raid troops have been guarding the coastline before, and it seems that the inland will be lost. As for whether we can take back those fallen towns...it’s hard to say.” Stanford sighed heavily, and John Watson couldn’t tell from his ambiguous sigh whether he was disappointed or relieved. Take a breath.

John Watson knew that ending wars took more than just adding a few fighter planes.

Having said that, John Watson has not seen the demon elder for a whole evening plus a whole day, since the werewolf jumped on the roof of the car and he was pulled out by Sherlock, he has lost the trace of this elder , Has he escaped again?It's disgusting.

Stanford led him and Sherlock through the streets of the town, where half of the houses were destroyed by artillery fire, and the remaining half of the houses, which looked like they were about to fall apart, were rebuilt with wood and curtains. Supported by broken bricks and tiles, Oxfordshire has lost its former prosperity and turned into a half-ruined ruin.

Several families were cooking dinner, and the warm mist was overflowing from the collapsed chimneys. John Watson smelled the aroma of human food and began to miss his little home. Just as he gazed at the dim candlelight projected from these windows At that time, Stanford guessed what he was thinking from his expression, and he said: "As for Dr. Watson's family, I saw them once before I joined the army. They were still in London at that time."

"Really?" John Watson looked very melancholy, with a gloomy tone. The war has been going on for more than three months, and now London does not know what it is like.

"The power of the German army is really too great. It is no exaggeration to say that they have invaded half of the world, relying entirely on their werewolf army. We only have live ammunition and live people, and nothing else. Some countries have already played It's over, you know? Many people were persecuted and massacred. Humans killed humans, werewolves killed humans, how terrible."

"Damn war." John Watson cursed, his eyes looked over the ruins, several crosses stood abruptly on the brick floor, and a layer of white wild daisies piled up underneath.

"There was an air raid there yesterday. A German shell fell on it. Three families died. There were children and old people. They were all buried under the brick wall. No matter how hard you dig, they couldn't get it out. Someone made these on top. Look, The cross nailed to the wood took the whole ruins as a grave for burying these families."

"Damn the German army." Hearing Stanford's description, John Watson cursed again.

Stanford led them through a small alley, and a school appeared in front of them. John Watson remembered this school. After getting on the wrong Sherlock train, he came to this school to attend a medical conference and deliver his medical speech in public. At that time, he was only 22 years old, with a childish face, and even his temper was extremely capricious.

"Now this place is used as a temporary treatment center. To put it bluntly, it is a hospital. All the hospitals in the county have been destroyed, and the seriously injured people are all taken in here. The seminary behind it is the almshouse I just mentioned. It is full of innocent people. Homeless civilians are really fortunate in misfortune. The ancient buildings of hundreds of years have not been damaged in the artillery fire. Looking at this college and seeing it standing majesticly, I always feel that Britain is still in a strong and peaceful state. The era. We used to be an empire on which the sun never set, and we were a country that stood up from the foundation of the powerful ancient Roman country."

There is indeed a sense of peace. As soon as you walk into the quiet campus of Oxford University, all the disturbances from the outside world are isolated. There are clusters of white orchids growing under the oblique old oak trees on both sides of the campus, and the fragrance is floating. Everything here is peaceful. , The teaching building is lit with bright light bulbs.

The generator that comes with Oxford University came in handy, no wonder it was used as a temporary hospital.

"Let's go in and have a look." Stanford said mysteriously, leading John Watson and Sherlock to the small building next to it.

John Watson walked up the stairs step by step, and a bright hall suddenly appeared in front of him. There was a gorgeous chandelier hanging in the middle, and the light bulbs on it were tens of thousands of times brighter than the stars. All kinds of medical kits and surgical equipment are neatly placed. Once the enemy invades, these equipment can be taken away by the medical soldiers at any time to facilitate the retreat.

"This building is different from the main building," Stanford said. "It is mainly used for spare equipment storage, and it is also used as a special dormitory."

"A special dormitory?" John Watson asked him back.

"Yes," Stanford said with a mysterious light in his eyes, "it's a special dormitory with special residents. Doctors and nurses basically don't come here to disturb the residents here. I'll arrange two rooms for you. Let's rest here for the time being. London is not available right now. It has been undergoing enemy air raids for 57 consecutive days. The artillery fire has not stopped at all. The bombs falling from the sky are like raining continuously. The whole of London has been bombed Bee honeycomb, you don't know, the iconic bridge in London has collapsed, only the south gate is left, the bridge is broken in the middle, and it sinks into the Thames, all in all, that place is too dangerous to visit for the time being .”

"My family is there."

"They must have escaped, no one wants to be in London now."

Just as John Watson was about to say something more, the door in the corridor opened suddenly, and a pale figure walked out, almost bumping into John Watson. John Watson saw his face and screamed, and Sherlock immediately Jumping over from the side, like a guard, hugging John Watson into his arms, avoiding the figure that appeared in front of him.

This figure was also quite frightened. He staggered a bit, leaning on a cane in his hand, leaning back against the wall, looking at the two of them with a pale face.

John Watson immediately resented and wanted to rush to beat him.

Sebastian Moran clung to the wall, looking at him eeriely, trying to avoid him.

Sherlock reined in John Watson's impulsive behavior.

"John, he's hurt," Sherlock said calmly.

John Watson stopped, looking at Sebastian Moran's injured leg—it looked as if it had been broken and had just grown back, limping.

"Ah? Do you know each other?" Standing among the three, Stanford asked blankly, "This is the vampire we took in. Two weeks ago, he was almost eaten by a werewolf from the German army. We put him on a stretcher." When he was carried back, only half of his body was left, and now he can recover like this... The vampire is simply amazing..."

"Shut up your fat mouth!" Moran yelled coldly, cutting off Stanford's redundant explanation, trembling all over his body, as if he was angry, his demeanor looked like a madman, he waved his hands With his cane, he drove all those who were in the way aside, "Get out of my way!" he roared angrily, bypassing John Watson and Sherlock, and moving forward crookedly in the corridor on crutches.

"Oh, he must be very hungry. Blood bags are being distributed in the cafeteria. He is in a hurry to serve dinner. Maybe the two of you are also interested?" Stanford said innocently, not knowing the grievances between them.

John Watson shook his head immediately, but he swallowed.

"What's going on here?" John Watson tried hard to dispel all the images related to blood in his head.

As Stanford continued to lead them through the hallway, with crude light bulbs glowing overhead and wooden floors creaking underfoot, he said, "At first, it was just a few wounded vampires breaking into human homes, and then there were more and more people. There are too many vampires in civilian homes, so we gathered them here. Werewolves treat vampires no more kindly than humans," Stanford blinked, "It turns out that every corner of the city There are vampires lurking everywhere. They usually hide in the market and have never been exposed. Unexpectedly, when the war broke out, many vampires lost their shelters. The miserable scene is beyond description. Not long ago, I watched a peaceful The person who looked so close to him suddenly caught fire in the busy city, and finally disappeared with the wind, leaving nothing behind. It was later discovered that he was a vampire. He had nowhere to hide during the day. They were also persecuted by werewolves just like humans. Well-meaning humans couldn't stand it, so they secretly took in the vampires... This matter has been kept from the army, and it took a long time before it was forced to be made public."

"Why did you keep it from the army?" John Watson looked at the back of his head curiously.

"Because of prejudice, Dr. Watson, the army classifies vampires and werewolves as the same kind. In fact, in our minds, as long as they are non-human things, they are all monsters that deserve to be extinct, including cockroaches and so on... Oh, of course, I'm not saying that Vampires are cockroaches, but vampires are indeed aliens. It is difficult for aliens to get the approval of humans, not to mention the approval of the army that is fighting against alien beasts. We once wanted to kill vampires on the way to eliminate werewolves... Later Discovering that... vampires are actually fighting alongside us. Werewolves are the common enemy of both races, and that is what bridges the gap between us."

John Watson thought silently, and said, "Is it because of this?"

"There should be other reasons... The people of the night, the so-called vampires, are really very tempting. They are so beautiful. Humans are keen to protect beautiful things. This is simply a talent, and no one can bear it." Seeing a beautiful work of art created by God being completely destroyed, we can't help but feel compassion for vampires. Even if we know that they will suck human blood, we just can't bear to watch these beautiful things being destroyed by werewolves and wars. Extermination, this can be said to be some kind of weird nature of human beings. I can’t tell. If it were a wounded vampire that broke into my house, I would definitely protect him. Just like I treat you.” Stanford looked at him with a smile, "Doctor Watson, do you know what you have become now? You have become extremely beautiful and incomparable."

John Watson stared at him with wide eyes.

Standing in front of a room door, Stanford couldn't help but tremble, "Don't look at me with this kind of sight, we have to avoid this kind of sight when we see vampires recently, I found that there is some kind of irresistible magic power in the sight of vampires .”

John Watson quickly looked away, nodded and said, "Yes, we will release the hypnotic magnetic field."

"No wonder, this is amazing. As a medical scientist, I am very curious about the structure of vampires. To be honest," Stanford laughed twice, "If it weren't for their corpses would turn into ashes in the daytime , I really want to dissect it. But every time the vampire’s corpse can’t be preserved for a long time. When they come into ultraviolet light or something, even if they die, the corpse will burn, which surprises me. This is something I have never Species that have been in contact with, do you understand my excitement?"

Sherlock looked down at his stupid head wearing a military cap, and said in a low voice, "Yes, I understand, I once wanted to dissect my own kind."

Looking at his haughty face, Stanford lowered his head timidly, only daring to look at John Watson. He rubbed his hands, showing a hint of humility towards Sherlock, and said, "Doctor Watson, I want to ask you Something. What does it feel like to be a vampire?"

John Watson looked at him seriously, "You can't have such thoughts, Doctor Stanford, it's not a good thing to be a blood-sucking beast."

The secret in Stanford's heart was completely exposed, he didn't know how to reveal it, maybe the longing expression on his face was too obvious, Stanford smiled awkwardly, "Yes, you are right, you have to be a vampire. It's not good to suck human blood... But vampires are really... very magical... Immortal..."

"Don't think about it, it's not as good as you imagined. As soon as the vampire stands in the sun..." John Watson was about to continue, but Sherlock covered his mouth to prevent him from killing the ultimate vampire. Weaknesses are leaked casually.

Vampires can only persist in the sun for 40 minutes. This kind of thing can only be known by the vampires themselves. They cannot be told to any cunning humans. Humans will strictly record them in the book and let these secrets be passed on to the world forever. Vampires have no Any trump card for life-saving is gone, and those mythical legends are useless. The less humans know about the structure and abilities of vampires, the better.

"Yes, yes," Stanford echoed, "Sunlight can burn vampires and turn them into ashes, but I have also seen vampires who don't respond to sunlight. Some vampires can stand in the hot sun for half an hour without dying. The fact is very strange, now there is a detailed encyclopedia for almost every species, even the frogs in the tropical jungle of Atlantis have been written a great book about it, only vampires and werewolves have no scientific records, I think Really want to know the details of their anatomy, and... how they reproduce."

After he finished speaking, the corridor was silent for a while.

"There is no need for scientific records." Sherlock answered him instead of John Watson, "The blood race is very simple, just like you, conceived from the mother's womb in October, and then slowly grow from a child to an adult, we We also need the upbringing of our elders. Until we reach adulthood, we will gain strength, beauty and speed from blood, and obtain eternal life and dominance. But in fact, we will not die even if we do not suck blood. Every month, Scarlet Hunger will Filling our body and mind, we will inexplicably want to be bloodthirsty, as long as we use self-control and the support of some medicinal wine, this hunger and thirst will soon subside." None of his words touched any forbidden area related to the weakness of the blood race.

"Medical liquor? I've never heard of such a thing."

"When I have time, I will let all the vampires living here have a bite or two."

"I heard that you can convert humans into the same kind." Stanford cut into this sensitive topic eagerly.

"Yes, conversion, of course, you humans still call it venom infection, or a more beautiful word, first embrace, but these words all mean the same thing, that is conversion, in our blood race, conversion is a A very cumbersome ceremony."

"How complicated is it?"

"In the beginning, you have to be drunk by a vampire. You will be drained of every drop of blood until your body turns white. This process will take a whole night. Then you will accept the new blood given to you by the vampire, and then you will Rebirth, the last and most important step, you need a living sacrifice, you need to drink a living person yourself to completely complete the conversion."

Stanford's eyes were faintly glowing with yearning, and Sherlock stared at his longing light, and continued, "Then you will become a monster, you will hate daylight so much, and you would rather stay in the dirty and smelly sewer If you don't want to come out to look at the light, you will never be able to move freely. Only the night belongs to you. You will break with your former friends, because you have become a member of another race, born with blood and human physiology. The structure is different, after humans transform into vampires, the body is still human flesh and blood, so, in fact, no matter how you transform, you can't really become exactly the same as vampires. At best, it's a poor copy."

As he said this, he glanced at John Watson.

Obviously, John Watson was not angry, he agreed with Sherlock's words, he felt that what Sherlock said was right, he was just a copy, never a real blood race.

Stanford was poured cold water by him, and he seemed a little resentful, "I don't really want to become a vampire, I just have a strong curiosity about how vampires create other vampires, and I am curious about it from the perspective of a medical scientist. , I can't imagine that I'm going to drink human blood, the taste of blood must be disgusting..." Stanford explained duplicity, in fact, his voice has been exposed to the ears of John Watson and Sherlock, Stanford yearns for eternal life, yearns for The magic of eternal youth.

Just like many human beings in this world, they greedily yearn for the power of immortality, and are willing to do anything to keep their appearance young, even if it means harming other people's lives. both.Paradoxically, there are a lot of humans who don't have much aversion to vampires.

John Watson and Sherlock listened to his heart quietly, but neither of them said anything more.

Stanford opened the door, pulled the rope connected to the light bulb switch, lit the lamp, stood under the light bulb, and there was only his black shadow on the floor. He said enthusiastically: "Dr. Watson, you sleep in this room. As for Mr. Holmes, Please follow me upstairs, there is a vacant room there."

"No need." Sherlock whispered softly, his face was dappled and blurred by the dim light, Stanford felt an invisible oppressive force, squeezing towards his body, he obviously kept avoiding Sherlock's sight, but now he Finds that doesn't help much, as there's something irresistible about even Sherlock's voice.

"Don't give me another room, I just sleep in the same room as John."

The voice was gentle and full of attractiveness, which vibrated Stanford's heart like a resonance, and Stanford felt dizzy.

He heard Sherlock say again: "Please go out, I don't need you for the time being."

Stanford involuntarily took two steps outside the door, closed the door, and stood outside sweating profusely.God, he couldn't do any resistance at this moment.

He bowed his head and sighed, thinking, if only he could become such a powerful and beautiful vampire, look at John Watson transformed into so radiant, with charming eyes and hair the color of gold coins I don’t know if his body will become more handsome after becoming a vampire, whether his appearance will also be fascinating, whether his eyes will become hazy and deep, yes, he has definitely come to a conclusion , like John Watson, no matter how pudgy he is, he will become attractive if he can get his precious first embrace.

Stanford stepped out of the hallway step by step.

John Watson's room shone with the soft light of an electric lamp. Compared with John Watson's memory, the tungsten filament in this electric lamp was much dimmer than that in the dungeon, and the material was not so delicate.

He was alone with Sherlock, who stood at the window, frowning, while John Watson sank into a chair, lost in thought.

"It seems that this academy has taken in many vampires who escaped from the war and werewolves. I didn't expect that even Sebastian Moran is here." John Watson looked worried.

"It worries me, John."

"I understand your concern, Sherlock, the vampires here seem to be very well-behaved, but maybe they are all illusions. Once the war is over, will the vampires retaliate and treat human beings as livestock again, and treat them as dinner one by one? Enjoy it. Think about how insidious Sebastian Moran is. If he hadn't been seriously injured, how could he willingly submit to the shelter of humans? Once he fully recovered from his injuries, the consequences would be hard to imagine. "

"Yes, that's what I'm worried about." Sherlock turned his head and smiled slightly, "But I have another way to avoid this bad consequence."

John Watson tilted his head in the chair and looked at him stupidly.

Three days later, when the vampires lined up in the cafeteria to get blood bags, what they got in their hands was no longer human blood drawn from humans, but a glass of thick and sticky black wine. The two sides of the table looked at each other in blank dismay.

Especially Sebastian Moran, sitting in the dining chair, looking at the glass that has changed from human blood into bloody medicinal wine, his face is almost crooked, he is holding the big glass, looking up, thinking Swallowed the medicinal wine that suppressed blood desire, then angrily slammed the cup down on the dining table.

The other blood races did the same. They silently sipped the medicinal wine in their cups that they had never drunk before. It tasted very strange. It smelled like human blood, but also had the rusty smell of metal. All the blood races drank it down without a drop. Medicinal wine.

That night, including Sebastian Moran, none of the blood races aroused bloodthirsty desires, and the fierce and hungry eyes of the blood races suddenly softened, and their eyes on those busy human doctors and nurses instantly softened a lot , which surprised and relieved the human beings who had always been worried about them. That night, all creatures in the entire Oxford University—including humans and blood races—including the nightingales and cicadas on the trees—including the roses and orchids in the flowers, all Creatures live wonderfully and peacefully.

Sherlock stood on the school road in satisfaction, sniffing the moist fragrance in the air. He was wearing a suit with a golden vest inside, and he looked heroic. He thought of John Watson's clothes and demeanor tonight, and his pale face appeared. happy smile.

Wearing a white coat, John Watson was standing in the operating room with a concentrated expression on his face. He was taking out a bullet for a wounded man. Before he entered the operating room, Sherlock branded a kiss on his forehead. John Watson remembered this encouragement Kissing, the corners of the mouth in the mask couldn't help revealing a happy and sweet smile.

"Would you like alcohol? Doctor?" the nurse asked from the side.

John Watson quickly got his mind back from Sherlock, and refocused on the wounded in his hands, "Give me the gauze first, thank you."

John Watson completed three operations overnight, and the nurses were exhausted. He hurried out of the operating room, took off his hat and mask, and put his hands in the pockets of his white coat. He couldn't wait to meet Sherlock.

Walking down the long corridor, John Watson passed a door.

He walked over quickly, then stopped suddenly, then slowly backed up, and stood in front of the door again.

(blood bag storage room)

There's a sign like this on the door.

John Watson stood at the door of the room and refused to leave for a long time. He raised a hand and touched the locked door reluctantly. It was no longer difficult for him to break the metal doorknob. It can be said that it was easy. .John Watson put his palm on the same cold doorknob, and with a crack, the handle twisted and broke immediately, and the door opened a gap inward. John Watson swallowed desperately to moisten his burning throat.

He sneaked into the storage room quietly. This small space is very narrow. There are two drop-down subway cabinets standing against the wall. There are ice cubes and blood bags in them. The ice cubes are replaced every two days from the frost-making machine Take out the ice, chop it into pieces and put it here.

John Watson stuck his whole body against these lovely cabinets, rubbing his cheek against the cold and hard iron cabinets, ah, blood, so much blood.

He opened one of the cabinet doors and looked at the blood bags classified according to blood types inside. John Watson showed a seductive smile, as if he was about to pounce on him. He quickly grabbed a bag of blood and put it in his mouth. Pierced the firm plastic package with sharp teeth, cold but sweet blood flowed into his throat, John Watson drank a bag within a few seconds, and he licked his bright red and soft lips happily , and start attacking the next bag.

He put bag after bag of small snacks between his lips, drank up the blood inside, he sighed long, like a person who drank fine wine, he found that blood with different blood types also tasted slightly different For example, type O blood is relatively sweet, type A blood is relatively light, but tastes great, type B blood can actually taste slightly salty, type AB blood and some other rare blood types are slightly thicker Some, all in all, John Watson prefers blood type A. He has drunk 5 packs of this blood type in a row, and he is sucking his finger stained with bright red plasma.

A pale face appeared ghostly on his shoulders, John Watson was startled, his whole body hit the cabinet with a messy sound, his lips were bright red, and he was still clutching half a pack of drinks. He immediately hid the blood bag of Type A blood behind his back, but it was useless to hide it now.

Sherlock tilted his head and stared at him, "What the hell are you doing... John." His voice sounded very severe at the moment, and John Watson thought he was terrible.

John Watson stammered, "I'm just... passing by..."

"Passing by?"

"And then I don't know what happened, and then I'm standing here, and then I'm like this, and then I have this thing on my hands, and then..."

"Then what?"

"And then I don't know what happened ... I don't know."

"You don't know? You don't know what you're doing?" Sherlock looked at him sullenly, his gray eyes were so scary and scary.

John Watson blinked, shrunk his neck in front of him, and said dryly, "I'm fucking hungry..."

"Are you hungry?" Sherlock kept repeating his words, which made John Watson feel uncertain.

Sherlock lowered his eyelids, staring at him intently.

John Watson suddenly frowned, and looked at him bravely, tightly clutching the remaining half of the blood bag in his hand, he suddenly raised his hand, and tried hard to suck all the blood in the blood bag.

Sherlock quickly hugged him by the waist and dragged him out of the blood bag storage room. John Watson was holding the door frame at the door, refusing to let go of his hands, "Let me drink one more bag, just one... "

"No." Sherlock said resolutely, "It's not much. You know how scarce resources are during the war. If you continue to eat like this without restraint, the next time you rescue the wounded and don't have enough blood bags for blood transfusion, then you It's no different than murdering a life."

"Just! One! Bag!" John Watson's sharp claws scraped long marks on the door frame, Sherlock carried him on his shoulders, and strode him away in the corridor, away from this tempting world place.

John Watson is like a little shou struggling in a trap (wrong! Typo!) John Watson is like a little beast struggling in a trap, thumping Sherlock's back hard on his shoulder, "Damn, I beg you!"

"It's useless to beg me. Why is your appetite so big and scary? You almost emptied half of the blood bank."

"I want to take another sip, even if it's just one sip! These blood bags haven't hurt anyone, and the current blood collection technology is very advanced!"

"I know. But that's not why you're out of control. You're out of control."

"I'm not out of control, I'm wide awake."

"Are you sober?" Sherlock put him down, pushed him against the wall, and looked at him. "Don't you realize that you're contradicting yourself? You clearly resist drinking blood, but you just sipped it when no one was around." So fierce, you are already full, but you don't realize that you have obviously lost control, and your desire to drink blood is actually a desire to kill."

"How is it possible?" John Watson felt his heart skip a beat when he heard the word killing. How could he be eager to kill.

"Once the bloodthirsty is excessive, the blood race will be extremely excited, and then full of killing intent."

"No...impossible, it is impossible for me to want to kill someone."

"Maybe you didn't want to kill people just now, but what will happen if I haven't appeared after you drink all the blood bags? John? You will start to wander around the hospital insatiably Other living people for you to continue your bloodlust."

John Watson was stunned, and Sherlock's serious expression frightened him. He didn't look like he was scaring John Watson with nonsense at all.

Oh my god... so if John Watson stays in that blood bank and sips without restraint, he will kill tonight?

"Looking around, is tonight really that bad, leaving you bored and trapped in hunger and thirst, don't you want to do something else on this beautiful night to divert your attention from hunger?" Sherlock said abyssally The pupils were burning, shining softly, full of longing, extremely deep, shooting into the depths of John Watson's heart, he raised a hand to touch John Watson's chin, and held him up, this hand was extremely cold , born of ice and snow, Sherlock lowered his gaze, focused on his lips, seducing him, calling to him, crushing him.

John Watson felt passion/desire rushing up his spine, he couldn't help closing his eyes, Sherlock slowly lowered his lips, covering his lips, John Watson raised his hands, and put them on his neck in a daze, Standing on tiptoe, Sherlock poked his tongue in, tasting the aftertaste of the blood that he greedily ate just now, and the other hand slid down his back, and with a little force, he squeezed a large piece of John Watson's buttocks. The plump flesh was pinched in the palm of his hand, so John Watson groaned/groaned in his arms.

Sherlock held his chin firmly with one hand, and rubbed his buttocks between kisses with the other. John Watson groaned after being kissed, and slowly stood up in front of him, poking proudly at Sherlock's On the thigh, Sherlock smiled, and pressed the bulging part of John Watson's trousers with the tense muscles of his thigh. John Watson gasped, and he could hardly bear this torture. He wished that Sherlock could tear him apart immediately. The cumbersome clothes, kissed his whole body, and then entered him ferociously, hitting him until he couldn't speak.

"Come on, you idiot really believe his rhetoric?" A lazy voice echoed at the dark end of the corridor.

John Watson quickly pushed away Sherlock's kiss, and stared blankly at the pale ghost floating out of the shadows. A few seconds later, this ghost appeared under the light. Oh, John Watson realized that it was not a ghost, it was a ghost. william.

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Ended in Chapter 77.