JohnLock

Well, Sherlock can honestly say he wasn't expecting that. The sudden turn of the tables, well, just because it's a surprise doesn't mean he can't enjoy every bit of it.
He doesn't hold back the slight moaning sound that comes from his throat as he feels John's hand under his shirt. It's like someone just ran an electric current through him and it feels so damned good.

What he doesn't like is the idea of John ever have touched someone else. Of some else ever getting near his John.
I suppose that makes me territorial.
So Sherlock pushes John against the brick wall, kissing him with as much force as he can muster.
 
((Ooh, territorial Sherlock! I love you even more for that.))

Whoah.

John's back hits the wall suddenly, causing him to suck in a breath which is cut short by Sherlock's lips forcefully pressing against his. He's as good as pinning John against the wall, his kisses rough and sloppy. This was not a side effect that John had anticipated, but hell, is he glad of it. What had brought this on? His comment about his experience, obviously... but what about it? Then it hits him. Experience. As in, he's done this before, with other people. Sherlock is... territorial.

Oh, he's going to have fun with that.

He grins against Sherlock's lips, his every expression saying I win!, and moves his hands a little further up Sherlock's back, splaying his fingers wide to cover the most area. Now let's see if I'm right... he decides. "Hmm, jealous much?" he manages to get out between kisses, his tone teasing.

((It just occurred to me that Sherlock usually tucks his shirts in, making the whole hands-up-the-shirt thing much more complicated. STEADFASTLY IGNORING THIS~! *waves hand Jedi-Mind-Trick style* These are not the continuity errors you are looking for!))
 
His brow furrows and he mutters in between those boring breaths, "Shut up, John."
Of course I am, wouldn't you be?
Sherlock doesn't stop his intensity, it's a mixture of love and angst all boiled up into one hell of a kiss. He can't ignore the way John's hands on his back feel, but still, he can't help the frustration.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Sherlock had known he wasn't even near to being John's first relationship but he hadn't really acknowledged it. Now, John wasn't going to get away with bringing it up in that context, not even close. Sherlock presses him to the wall, pausing from the frantic kisses, his voice somewhat muffled by raspy breath.
"How would you feel if I had kissed Irene, hm? So yes, John, I. Am. Jealous."

(Katey, I'm part of your fandom now XD)

 
John's glee is short lived, because at Sherlock's words in an instant John can see exactly what Sherlock means. A flood of anger and possessiveness courses through him with surprising force at the thought, reminding him of exactly how jealous he had been at their almost-flirting. All of those little interrupting comments had had a reason. And then with Moriarty, with his "game" that he played, the way Sherlock had been so entranced with it, so maddeningly attracted to it-

He just found another reason to hate Moriarty. There's fire in his veins.

"Right," he says gruffly, and his hands drop to yank Sherlock forward sharply by his belt loops.

((I saw! <3 You guys make me feel so loved.))
 
He stumbles onto John as he pulls him towards. Sherlock regains his balance and places both hands on the wall above John's shoulders, leaning his forehead against his. He could see those beautiful eyes angry, fired up in a realization of jealousy.
Sherlock lets his hands fall down, grabbing John's, running his finger across the skin gingerly.
"John, you're the only one I've said "I love you" to. You're the only one I've will ever really love. Don't doubt that. Whatever you're thinking about, you are the only one."
 
John just stands there for a moment, taking deep breaths, letting Sherlock rub soothing circles into his hands. That in conjunction with Sherlock's words goes a long way towards helping him calm down. Finally, he sighs and moves his head back, letting loose the tension in his shoulders and giving Sherlock a small smile. "I know," he says softly. Then his smile grows slightly and he chuckles a bit, shaking his head. "Love makes you irrational, I guess."

He reaches up to cup Sherlock's cheek gently. "You know that's true for me as well, right?" he asks tenderly. "That you're the only one?" His voice is loving, but his eyes are serious, because it's so very important that Sherlock understands this, and understands it perfectly. "I have never felt about anyone else the way I feel about you," he says honestly. "You are... so much more, and so much better," he grins at the next words "and so much madder and so much more wonderful than anyone I've ever met, that I honestly cannot imagine being with anyone else." He leans up to give Sherlock a soft kiss. "You blow everyone else out of the water. You always have."
 
Sherlock smiles, because with just those words, all his anger subsides.
He speaks softly as John parts his lips,"I'll always be your one and only mad lover, eh? I can live with that."
As long as he's all his, that's what matters. He can be content with that. Now the kisses slow down, there is still that desperation, but he's back to the Idea that he can just turn around and snog John whenever.
Because for the moment, he's his John.


-going to bed now, night!
 
"Mmm," John agrees with a hum, as he kisses Sherlock back, slowly but deeply. There's something wordlessly being communicated between the two of them, like a confession, like a promise. It's only you. It's only ever been you. You are all there has ever been and all there will ever be, and if you were to disappear I too would cease to exist. You are mine, and I am yours. And when they slowly pull away from each other, forehead resting against forehead to breathe, racing heartbeats matching perfectly, John knows that they are irrevocably linked.

"How much time do we have left before they get here, do you think?" he asks, voice little more than a murmur, eyes closed peacefully.
 
His voice is hollow from all the kisses, "Give or take four minutes with Anderson behind the wheel. Then they have to do the processing out he front desk...I'd say we have seven and a half minutes to ourselves."
Sherlock's glad they resolved that quickly, because John and him have to focus on what's important. They also have to tell each other things, emotional things, and Sherlock is happy to get the load off his chest. Looking at John, he can see it. See what without a doubt is the most important thing to Sherlock. There is no way he'd ever let that slip away.
He takes a few moments to breathe before resting his head on John's shoulder.
 
John has to smile at the way Sherlock has to stoop a little to accomplish it, but he wraps his arms around his detective just the same. "At least we've got the rest of our lives after this to make up the lost time." For a moment he wonders if he's said too much, revealed how he fully intends to stay with his Sherlock until his very last breath, but he figures Sherlock already knows that, considering the sorts of things they've been saying. And, he realizes, he wants Sherlock to know that. He wants Sherlock to know that he's not going anywhere, ever, that he wants to spend the rest of his life with him. That he loves him that much.

He doesn't know what he'd do, if he lost his detective.
 
"Well, that's something at least. Because, you know, I'll never leave you either, John."
And, god, he means that. He's meant it forever, because the beginning of time for Sherlock is the second he saw his John walk through the doors of St. Barts. Anything before that didn't matter. Everything after did.
Sherlock was nothing without John. Nothing without his one miracle.
"Mycroft was wrong. It's not a disadvantage, not like this." he murmurs into John's shoulder to no one in particular.
 
((Aaaaand the Reichenbach feelz are back. TT.TT WE WILL NEVER ESCAPE THEM))

I'll never leave you. Those words echo through John's head, and now he wishes he had a memory as good as Sherlock's because he wants to remember this forever, all of this, all of these moments: their first kiss, their first "I love you"s, Sherlock's voice promising him forever, everything. He wants to record every detail - how Sherlock's lips feel on his, the sound of Sherlock's voice when he's making those bold declarations, how it feels to hold and be held, the emotions thrumming through his veins. He never wants to let any of it go, because it's all important, all so important. It's his whole world.

He kisses Sherlock's forehead gently. "What's not?" he queries, a confused quirk of a smile on his lips.
 
(We're not haunted by the Fall. We miss it.)

"Oh, it's nothing." he looks up at John, smiling from that gentle kiss, still clutching on to him, "Just something Mycroft said to me. He was wrong, as usual. I just hadn't figured it out until now."
Sherlock kisses the John under his chin, it's the closest place he can reach from his current position, he doesn't want to move. He enjoys this being able to lean against John, something so, well, non-platonic and relationship like. The thought makes him grin.
"He said that caring wasn't an advantage. And well, I believed him. But like I said..." Sherlock makes a happy humming like noise.

(When one is under the influence of FEEELINGS, one must write fluffy fluff fluffness. I wonder what Sherlock's humming does sound like...)
 
((And every time we re-watch it, it's like it's saying, "Welcome back."))

Oh. John wonders when that happened. Was it because of him? Or was it something else? And why would Mycroft say something like that? He puts the questions out of his mind impatiently. This moment is about Sherlock, not about Mycroft. He rests his head lightly on Sherlock's, closing his eyes peacefully. "What made you change your mind?" he asks, voice soft.

He can just feel Sherlock about to make some sarcastic remark about being an idiot, so he quickly clarifies, "I mean, I would have thought you would consider it a disadvantage. The distraction, for one," he kisses the top of Sherlock's head lovingly again, "and the way it makes us both susceptible, for another." He pauses for a moment, almost wishing he hadn't mentioned that, but continues, "Not that I consider it a disadvantage." He tightens his hold around Sherlock. "You're worth the danger to me."

((I am now on an Epic Quest to find out. XD))
 
"I suppose you are right in some points but it's not negative." he slips his lanky arms around John's neck, "And that word, distraction, it makes it sound like it's a bad thing. Kissing you, holding you, it is a highlight of any experience. So yes, you can be distracting in the best possible way, but I like it. I really like it. Love it actually."
He wonders why John even has to ask, couldn't he read it off Sherlock's expression.
"As for the danger...I won't let anyone touch you, if you hadn't realized, I can be a bit protective. Anyone tries to hurt you, and they'll end up like The Wall. So, it's more of a disadvantage to them if they don't wish to be full of holes."

(Take me with you!)
 
John raises his eyebrows, an impressed grin growing on his face. He likes being a welcome distraction. It's a much better response than he had hoped for, Before. Not only that, but he decides he quite likes Protective Sherlock, as well. The fierceness in his eyes when he talks about what he would do to anyone who tried to hurt John is very attractive. "Well then," he says contently, putting his hands on Sherlock's hips and leaning up. "I'm not one to argue with that logic." He kisses Sherlock firmly for a moment and then leans back, sighing. "They'll be here any second," he says ruefully. He sighs, conceding to the necessity of it. "Oh well. At least I get to watch you work." He tugs Sherlock's fancy shirt straight again. Best not to look... well, like they were making out in a morgue.

((If I find something, I will link you immediately, I assure you.))
 
"So," he starts, smirking slightly as John lets go of the shirt, "You find my work attractive then?"
He loves the way the John blushes immediately, how he can't help it. Sherlock could just kiss him again. And again. But he's already pulled away and in the corner of his eye, Sherlock can see the lights in the hallway turn back on.
Damn Lestrade.
He doesn't make any sort of acknowledgement to it, he's very keen to see what John answers.
The detective can wait.

(Sorry about the wait, my email wasn't getting the notification so it messed up things. And I would love if you sent any pertaining links :D)
 
John seems to be doing an awful lot of smiling in the few hours since they admitted their feelings for one another - and with good reason. Also, blushing. That's happening quite a lot as well. He can feel the heat rise to his face, but manages to stay somewhat in control of how red his face goes. The smiling, not so much. He spots the lights in the hallway as well, but ignores them for a moment more, because he has to at least get this answer out before they are interrupted.

"Of course," he replies, and leans up to kiss Sherlock once more - a rushed kiss, but a genuine one. "How could I not?" he adds when he pulls away. He grins up at Sherlock again and takes his hand casually just as Lestrade opens the door.

((And I apologize for the wait on my end, as well - I'm currently working on compiling our entire RP into a nice, neat word document, which involves a lot of reformatting, and while I'm at it I figured I might as well check our verb tenses and all, so it's taking quite a bit. We should be proud of ourselves - we've written around 21,300 words! It's 41 pages at the moment in Arial and Times New Roman, single-spaced, size 12. I'm quite excited. XD))
 
It takes a few seconds to turn away from that expression on his John's face, a wide-eyed grin stretched across. He's never seen John this visibly happy and it pleases him. When he does turn around however, he tugs John closer by his hand.
Lestrade raises his eyebrows, but it appears he's already gotten use to the idea of Sherlock and John.
He holds back a laugh, He even expected it, hadn't he?
 "I hope we've actually been productive?" The inspectors voice was highly sarcastic as usual.
The corner of Sherlock's mouth goes up, "Well, we are professionals, aren't we? Mature and responsible."
Alright, he can't hold back a his grin anymore at that.

(SWEET! You know that's a lot considering we've only been doing this for a week and a half. Oh, we are brilliant!)
 
John has to look away to try to hide how much he's struggling not to laugh, biting the inside of his cheek to prevent it. He really can't be blamed for the way his shoulders are shaking with his silent amusement. He clears his throat, trying to compose himself. "We-" he starts, but his voice comes out quavering from the effort of TRYING to keep it steady. "We've done quite a bit since-" but no, with that, he's gone, unable to control his laughter. "I'm sorry, it's not-" he begins, but has to finish the statement by waving his hand ambiguously because he can't BREATHE.

((Sorry about the wait! Was out shopping for my costumes for a con all day with a friend. One of them is actually fem!Sherlock! :) ))
 
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