Hello Beautiful Readers! I'm back! Sorry if this one has any mistakes, I tried to write it all in one go, just hope it makes sense!
As usual I dont own any of the lovely characters, I only admire.
Please enjoy.
The Baker Street Wedding
"Boys!" Mrs Hudson called through the house as she scurried excitedly up the staircase.
Sherlock and John were occupying their usual armchairs opposite each other in their living room at 221B. Sherlock glanced the older lady up and down upon her arrival and looked back to his broadsheet with disinterest.
John, however, turned in his seat and put down his book.
"You ok Mrs H?" the doctor asked. Sherlock let out a sigh behind his newspaper.
The older woman ignored the detective and rushed over to John with her hands tightly clasped together.
"She's getting married" Sherlock said with distaste still holding the large newspaper high to hide his face.
John stood up and embraced his landlady.
"Congratulations! Let's see the ring then" John asked with a full teeth set smile.
Mrs Hudson proudly displayed her left hand for John to take. The ring was modest, a small green stone tightly packed in by the small diamonds that surrounded it.
"Wow, whose a lucky lady" John teased hugging his landlady gently once more as she giggled happily.
Sherlock lowered his newspaper slightly to view this scene with apparent interest.
Sherlock had been feeling a little…odd lately around John. Mycroft's words had burned a hole into his logic brain the last time he had seen him; 'you are getting older little brother, and yet, you have not lived'.
If Sherlock were to 'settle down' so to speak, he would say that John Watson was the logical choice of life partner. Dr. John H. Watson; the straightest man Britain's Army had ever trained; an impossible target.
"So when is the big day?" John asked; snapping Sherlock back into present day.
"Oh, it's Saturday, I hope both of you can make it, I've got jam sandwiches at the reception organised" Mrs Hudson chided as she smiled uncontrollably.
The two were now standing in the kitchen organising themselves to making cups of tea whilst talking about the wedding venue, wedding outfits and guests.
Sherlock realised his face was scrunched up visibly in confusion and he shook himself off, looking back down at the obituaries in today's' newspaper; much more suitable for him.
"Would it have killed you to be a bit excited for Mrs Hudson?" John asked tiredly as he set the cups in the sink once their landlady had disappeared down the stairs.
"Excited?" Sherlock scoffed, dropping his hands and newspaper to reveal John's expression.
"Yes, you know, show some enthusiasm? She deserves to be happy after you got her husband killed." John said to the dishes as he began to wash them.
"She asked me to ensure that he was killed" Sherlock said in his low baritone as he sniffed dismissively, watching John now with his hands steepled, his elbows symmetrical on the armrests of the chair.
"Whatever, she's really happy now and it wouldn't hurt you to show you are too" John said matter-of-factly. "Weddings are brilliant things, you will enjoy it" he mused – more to himself than to Sherlock.
"Why would I go to the wedding? The day is not to celebrate me or indeed, anything to do with me." Sherlock said causally.
This received a reaction.
John stood away from the sink, his feet apart and his soap sudded arm pointing straight at the detective; Sherlock could feel the fire of rage emanating from his short flatmate.
"You are going to this wedding whether I have to wash you, dress you and take you myself – I will do it. You will show some god damn respect to our land lady. She looks after us as if we were her own family. The least you can do is be at her wedding to celebrate her." John's voice was dangerously low and Sherlock could sense he was on borderline territory. He quickly shook his head and rolled his eyes, lifting his newspaper to his face once more and giving in.
"John!" Mrs Hudson called as she walked up the steps to their flat early Saturday morning.
"Oh, Mrs Hudson!" John said adoringly as he looked her up and down. Mrs Hudson shied away from his gaze a little before smiling widely; she wore a well suited white skirt suit with white occasion hat and shoes. The flowers she held were light pink roses and she looked beautiful.
John looked to Sherlock who sat beside him, unwillingly dressed in tuxedo and necktie. To John's surprise the detective was smiling widely at their landlady.
"Mrs Hudson, you look beautiful" Sherlock said as he approached her and kissed her cheek happily.
John's smile widened; "What he said" the doctor joked. "Are you ready to get married?" John asked.
Mrs Hudson nodded curtly before looking worriedly between the two; "Could one of you give me away?" she asked shyly, "I wouldn't ask, but well, it's a long walk on your own." She added looking at her flowers carefully.
John looked to Sherlock; "Sherlock, you should do it, you have known Mrs H longer than I have" the doctor said quietly. Sherlock nodded curtly and turned to the older female with a very wide smile; he held out his arm for her to take and she took it, reciprocating with a happy smile of her own.
John H. Watson would never admit it, but he was tearing up at the sight of Sherlock walking their caring landlady up the isle. The church was small and the crowd was smaller but the couple looked as happy as could be. Mr Mason stood at the alter with a teeth baring smile directed at his wife to be. Once the consulting detective had reached the alter, he enfolded the delicate hand of Mrs Hudson into the Groom's slightly larger one. With one last smile the tall brunette joined John in the front row.
John didn't know how to express his happiness for Sherlock being beside him and felt a sense of overwhelming pride that the man had done as he was asked. Without fully consenting to it his hand grazed Sherlock's between the two men on the bench. Sherlock looked down at John's hand as it lay next to Sherlock's larger one and he looked to John's face. The soldier could feel the gaze his flatmate was bestowing but chose to ignore it; looking on as the two in front said their vows.
Afterward, the two men shared a smile as Mrs Hudson looked towards them. In that single moment a strange eruption of feelings happened behind John Watson's eyes; there was jealousy, guilt, sadness & happiness. For a split second; John felt alone. Sherlock almost sensed the awkward swallow of his friend and flatmate at his side; he risked a glance down at his dark eyed companion and instantly picked up the thread of John's brain pattern.
The Reception was held in a large building, two streets away from the church. Sherlock and John walked side by side, enjoying the sunshine and being part of a merry group.
"You are not expecting me to dance are you?" Sherlock mused as he clasped his hands together behind his back.
John shrugged, he felt a little depleted and confused by his earlier rush of feelings, not to mention that he knew Sherlock had read them on his face.
"You do whatever you need to do" John said with a sigh.
Sherlock noted the instant snap to Military march that John had acquired in the last few steps and knew his friend was facing some truths; he silently wondered whether today was the day.
Sherlock risked a second glance at his friend; reading the tiredness under his eyes and the sadness in his stance. His friend was in want of a partner; someone to share life with, someone to laugh with and someone to love. Sherlock coughed awkwardly at the thought. He glanced around behind them to see a couple of old ladies following them; perhaps now was not the time to divulge true feelings.
By the time the food had been eaten and the traditional speeches had been spoken; it was dark outside. Sherlock was hovering at the bar ordering a couple of drinks for his Doctor and himself. He glanced causally back at their table in the dimly lit dance hall; the location was nice, the bar was expensive and the crowd was minimal; overall it was agreeable. Sherlock smiled as John caught his eye mid conversation with Mrs Hudson-Mason, to Sherlock's inward delight the smile was warmly returned. Possibly assisting Mrs Hudson down the aisle had brightened his outlook to John.
Once the two drinks were paid for, Sherlock lifted them from the bar and walked elegantly back to the table. It was with slight rage that he had noticed an unknown female's presence in the seat beside the ex-soldier. Sherlock decided not to sit, instead he dropped off John's beverage and walked toward the garden doors, they were open and the walled garden was lit handsomely.
The tall consulting detective chose a spot on a park bench where he could still hear the music within and could listen to the London traffic equally. He glanced around himself to see that he was quite happily alone in the garden of plantation. Sherlock reached into his pocket with his free hand and snatched up his only cigarette. He decided that now was as good a time as ever and rested it between his lips, reaching back into his pocket for his lighter.
"Thought you were doing well on patches" came John's calm voice, Sherlock snatched a quick glance to the open French doors to see the shorter man leaning causally against one.
"It's a celebration, John, I'm allowed one." Sherlock mumbled through his cigarette as he lit it, embracing the drug with closed eyes.
"What was all that about?" John asked pointing back to the bar.
"What was all what about?" Sherlock asked as he opened his eyes and exhaled the smoke peacefully, lifting a hand to release his neck from his constricting neck tie.
John sat down beside Sherlock on the small park bench.
"Oh, you know, the warm smile, the look of panic, the walking off wordlessly…" John said as he looked to the dark sky; the stars cut off by London's lights. "I'm not stupid you know." John mused without looking at the detective.
Sherlock eyed John carefully; "Where do you get that idea?" he asked half – heartedly as he smirked lightly.
John smiled slightly in return.
"Sherlock, if you don't want to talk about it, then so be it, but if there is the slightest chance that you feel something that is minutely human for someone else, it is always good to tell them. Before it's too late." John said, and with that, the doctor got to his feet once more and walked back into the warmth of the party.
Sherlock finished his cigarette in silence, enjoying the cool air and the dull music from within. He stood from the park bench and threw his cigarette stub over his shoulder, undoing his top shirt buttons with his free hand. Returning to the party he saw Mrs Hudson-Mason sitting with her new husband and decided to speak to them.
"How are you?" Sherlock asked awkwardly over the music as he sat beside them.
"Oh wonderful, Sherlock, just wonderful." Mrs Hudson smiled. "I see John's enjoying himself" she laughed as she pointed to the dance floor. Sherlock looked over in sudden dismay as he saw the young brunette from before dancing slowly with his flatmate.
After a while, Sherlock approached the bar for some much needed alcohol relief. Three small glasses of gin later, John and that woman were still dancing, now talking and smiling across the short distance between them.
The song finished and the two broke apart. Sherlock had an idea. He wasn't sure how quite to go through with his new plan just yet; but then the next song started;
Well it's a big big city and it's always the same
Can never be too pretty tell me your name
Is it out of line if I were simply bold to say "Would you be mine"?
It wasn't exactly perfect, but it would do Sherlock decided. Before he knew it, he was walking across the dance floor; fast approaching the couple.
0000000
John was enjoying himself. He had had a few pints, sure, but then it's a wedding, that's what people do. Melody was lovely, she was much younger than John but she had a million pound smile and beautiful light eyes. She was, however, a little simple. John tried to discuss some topics that were obviously a little past her knowledge; nothing too important – just the economic crisis and the latest set of burglaries that was in the news earlier in the week; John ploughed on regardless, unperturbed by the sickening ignorance of this woman.
John watched the genius re-enter the party and head for Mrs Hudson-Mason, he watched as Sherlock's face contorted with something unreadable as he glanced in their direction.
It was a few songs later that John looked to him again, spying him at the bar; wincing after every glass he finished. John smiled; all of the things Sherlock was and had been; he was not a drinker.
It was with some surprise that the soldier spotted Sherlock making his way onto the dance floor and heading straight for him, stripping his suit jacket as he walked and flinging it in the general direction of a chair. John tensed, ready to be called onto a case, ready to text any individual anything and run down alleyways, run for his life. What he did not expect, however, was Sherlock to ask;
"May I?" upon arrival.
John nodded numbly and held out Melody's hand for his flatmate to take. Again, John was further dumbfounded as Sherlock smiled kindly at her but batted her hand away, firmly grasping John's instead.
Melody stood aghast as Sherlock wrapped his right arm awkwardly around John's back and clasped the shorter man's right hand in his left; he then proceeded to gently sway them from side to side. John couldn't help but laugh, holding onto Sherlock to save him from falling over.
"Dance with me" Sherlock murmured into John's ear, finding the smaller man shiver under his embrace.
John leaned back slightly to look into the detectives' intense eyes. "Thought you'd never ask" he smiled and wrapped his left arm around Sherlock's waist, gently resting his forehead against Sherlock's jaw.
Well it's a big, big city and the lights are all out
But it's as much as I can do you know to figure you out
And I must confess, my heart's in broken pieces
And my head's a mess
And it's 4 in the morning, and I'm walking along
Beside the ghost of every drinker here who has ever done wrong
And it's you, woo hoo
That's got me going crazy for the things you do
The whole party seemed to disappear as John inhaled sandalwood, mint, cigarette smoke and for some reason; engine coolant – the unmistakable smell of Sherlock Holmes was oddly comforting.
"People will talk" John said calmly.
"They refuse to do little else." Sherlock reasoned, smiling and rearranging his arms carefully, pulling John closer.
So if you're crazy, I don't care, you amaze me
Oh you're a stupid girl, oh me, oh my, you talk
I die, you smile, you laugh, I cry
And only, a girl like you could be lonely
And it's a crying shame, if you would think the same
A boy like me's just irresistible.
The song drew to a close but the two men did not separate, in fact, they did not break apart until several songs later, and it was Mrs Hudson-Mason that interfered; demanding a dance with each of her 'boys'.
Several hours passed, Sherlock's face was beginning to ache with the sheer amount of smiling he was partaking in; a new experience for him.
It was with some alarm that the Consulting Detective spotted a hungry glance on the face of his flatmate across the table's surface and he stood in one fluid movement signalling to John that he was going outside again.
The garden was a little more full now, couples paired off in the shrubbery, talking seriously or engaging in something a little more romantic. John followed Sherlock closely until they were hidden away in a corner of the gardens, there was a small wooden bench between leafy trees, hidden neatly by a bush.
They sat down together; "Sherlock" John started but the taller man did not want to hear any more, he dived in, unsure of himself for the first time in his life, and placed a kiss on John's rough lips.
John's eyes did not have time to close as the kiss was started and over before he could breathe.
Sherlock watched anxiously as John stared at him.
"Not good?" Sherlock asked after an awkward pause.
"A bit" John murmured.
Sherlock's eyes darted around their dark location until he had to move, had to pace, John watched as Sherlock walked away slightly to turn heel and walk back.
"Sherlock, come here" John ordered.
The taller man stopped mid-pace to look up at John, who now stood in front of him.
"Try again" John said bravely, squaring up his shoulders, now prepared for what was to happen.
Sherlock stood for a moment surveying his companion, eventually, he leaned down to place a second delicate kiss to John's lips, however, this time John latched onto him, wrapping his strong hands into the dark untouched curls of Sherlock's hair, he guided the man further down in order to kiss him passionately and quite literally take his breath away.
"Ah so that's where you two are, we were looking around in there but couldn't find…." Lestrade stopped talking the minute he saw John and Sherlock rip apart, John appeared very flustered whereas Sherlock did not turn around to face the police inspector.
"What are you doing here, Lestrade?" Sherlock barked, wiping at his mouth before turning round.
"Well, it's a wedding" Greg answered, looking between the two awkwardly. "It's a wedding of a friend…or am I not allowed friends?" The man chuckled.
"You said 'we'?" Sherlock bit harshly as he looked behind the salt and pepper haired detective anxiously.
"Ah yeah, Donavon and Anderson came with me. They're inside" Greg explained pointing with his thumb to doorway behind him.
Sherlock turned slightly to view his blushing companion and smiled wickedly at him.
"Ah, Sherlock, can I talk to you before we go in there?" John mumbled, looking up through his eyelashes at Lestrade.
"I'll, er, be inside" Greg said before turning and walking back into the busy dance hall.
"Come on, John, we can lay it all to rest without question if we make a scene." Sherlock pleaded as he walked close to John.
"And what would we be laying to rest exactly?" John asked quietly, fixing Sherlock with a solid sideways stare.
Sherlock furrowed his brow.
"Don't…don't do that" John said tiredly.
"Do what?" Sherlock asked, puzzled by John's request.
"You're doing the 'we both know what's going on here' face, and yet again, we don't." John explained dully.
"I thought we had just made it clear - ?" Sherlock questioned.
"It's obvious that we are having some sort of a conversation but I may need you to use your words like a big boy." John said resolutely.
"Fine" Sherlock huffed "John, be my life partner" it was more of a command than a question but either would have stunned the shorter man. "And once you say yes, we can go in there and display it." Sherlock finished, towering over the Military Doctor.
John threw his head back and laughed, he managed to glimpse the look of confusion on the detectives face before he dissolved once more into giggles.
Sherlock watched with some amusement as his friend melted in front of him, finding his giggles somewhat infectious, he started to join in.
After a while the pair calmed down, John wiping at his eyes and Sherlock still chuckling somewhat.
"So you'll stay with me?" Sherlock said mockingly.
John straightened up and took a step towards the tall genius. "Come off it, Sherlock, you know the answer already, you knew it from the moment you smiled at me from the bar"
"I did, but its curtsey isn't it? To check first before making an assumption, that is the usual expected procedure?" The taller man said, finishing with a breathless cough.
"True, but there is no usual in this case" John said as he signalled 'them' with his arms.
Sherlock smiled. "Come on" he said, holding out his hand for John to take.
"Sherlock" The soldier started; "I might…it's been a while…I might lose control." John said quietly, looking at the extended hand.
Sherlock took a further step towards the shorter man, a step that wasn't really there to take; making John's body flush with his own.
"Then lose it" he said huskily.
John swallowed as he stared into Sherlock's eyes, a darker grey than he had ever seen them.
"Sherlock…it's all happening so fast." John said in a whisper, running his hand across the taller man's left cheekbone.
Sherlock leaned down once more and kissed his flatmate, this time, lingering gently on his bottom lip, deliberately slowing down this kiss to show that he could.
"I'll still be here by morning" Sherlock whispered against John's pale lips.
John smiled, he had never before seen his friend this way, he liked it a lot.
"Lets give them something they can talk about then" John said, his smile extending along with his hand.
Sherlock smiled widely and encased John's hand in his own. They walked side by side onto the dance floor; noting that the hall was fuller now with evening guests. A few familiar faces watched on interestedly as Sherlock immediately pulled John closer and wrapped his arms protectively around him.
John sighed contentedly and once more wrapped his arms around Sherlock, leaving his hands to rest on his sharp shoulder blades, burying his face in the taller man's neck.
"John" Sherlock said as he leaned down and nuzzled John's hair with his nose.
John smiled into Sherlock's bare neck.
Sherlock's heart seemed to jump alive, he had never really been aware of it, never used it in the emotional sense certainly, suddenly it was the only thing he felt.
John lifted his head to look Sherlock in the eye. He saw the passion, the protection and the love all behind those light grey eyes and instantly knew what Sherlock was trying to convey without words.
"I know" John said quietly.
Sherlock's brain seemed to become a little like an old vinyl record that had gotten stuck.
"I feel the same" John mumbled before looking down at the pale pink flower pinned to Sherlock's lapel.
Sherlock leaned close to John's face, his eyes narrowed; "Prove it" he dared.
John smiled and allowed his hands to travel down the taller man's back, coming to rest above his trouser waistband.
"Gladly" John muttered as he stood slightly on his tip toes to kiss the consulting detective.
Sherlock's hands weaved into John's short cropped blonde hair as he stooped into the kiss, he tilted his head to the left in order for the kiss to progress. The Doctor moaned slightly at the feel of Sherlock's fingers grazing his scalp and Sherlock smiled as he answered with his own. Surrounded by loud music, they could only sense each other.
By the time the two broke apart for air, they were aware of more than a few sets of eyes upon them. Sherlock encased John once more in his arms and they resumed their dancing.
"Ignore them" Sherlock whispered breathlessly as he kissed John's temple.
"Sherlock, we'd better not do that again, not here at least" John said in a strained voice. The tall brunette looked down at his friend.
"Why?" He asked, seemingly put out.
John pulled Sherlock's hips to his own and Sherlock instantly knew why, he licked his lips.
"Ah" The detective said. "Should we go home?"
"We'd better not" John said gently. "Not yet" he added hastily at the furrowed brow he had received from the consulting detective. "Stay for the flower-throwing thing, then we'll sneak off" John said as he flicked his stare between Sherlock's eyes and lips.
After a few beats of silence between songs Sherlock furrowed his brow and looked down at John; "When is the flower thing?" he asked.
"I don't know, it's usually after the cake" John mused, looking around the hall.
Sherlock growled; "Are you sure we can't just go now?" the consulting detective said in a husky voice.
"Eager, are we?" John asked with some amusement.
"Only as eager as you" Sherlock said, avoiding his co-workers eyes.
"Sherlock? Have you ever-?" John started to question.
"No, John" The detective interjected.
John stood aghast for a few moments before he lay his forehead back against Sherlock's jaw line. Over Sherlock's shoulder he spied the look they were receiving from Greg Lestrade at a nearby table. To his surprise it was a look of warmth, a faint smile as if he was happy for them. John allowed his eyes to roam the crowd; finding Donavon and Anderson dancing beside them, Mrs Hudson-Mason and her new husband dancing the other side and some officers of the Met sitting at a far off table – god knows why they were there. John was pleasantly surprised that there was no vengeance, no hatefulness and this time, just for this evening, there was no one out to hurt them.
"I love you, Sherlock" John said without meaning to. It was quiet but it was heard. John froze in the taller man's arms, stunned at his own admission.
Sherlock faltered only slightly, squeezing his hold on the Doctor reassuringly.
"Not as much as I, you" Sherlock mused into John's ear.
"Prove it" John chided, nudging Sherlock's chin with his nose.
"Oh I will" Sherlock said, his eyes filled with fire as he glanced down at John's face. "As soon as we get home" he whispered.
John involuntarily trembled as he felt the words wash over him, he felt as giddy as a school boy and as untamed as a wild horse, he couldn't believe how much had changed in one single evening. With some irony his eyes glanced past the young female from earlier; Melody, over Sherlock's shoulder.
"She wouldn't stand a chance against me" Sherlock mused comically as he twirled them around the dance floor.
"Come on, let's go and talk to Lestrade, he looks lonely" John said, narrowly avoiding the cackle that could have escaped his throat at Sherlock's comment.
The taller man sighed but resigned to taking John's hand, tucking his other into his tight suit trouser pocket. They walked side by side towards Lestrade's empty table and sat down beside him.
"Hi Greg, sorry about…earlier." John started with an apologetic smile.
"Its ok, I see that you've covered some ground this evening" Greg mused gruffly.
John and Sherlock shared a glance before John turned back to the DI with a smile; "Just a bit".
The three talked for roughly half an hour before a tall cake was wheeled out from the bar door. The photographs were taken, the Champaign was poured and Sherlock was awarded a large dollop of white icing to his nose much to John's amusement.
Sherlock's long fingered hand wound its way around John's waist and into his front trouser pocket as the females in the room prepared to catch the bride's flowers.
"John, you should be in there" Mrs Hudson-Mason called. John flushed a rather lovely shade of fuchsia but shook his head negatively pointing to Sherlock instead.
Much to Mrs Hudson-Mason's delight, Sherlock parted from John's side and stood at the back of the small huddled crowd of well dressed females.
John ran a hand over his eyes before peeking through his fingers at his partner, who of course, caught the small bunch of pink roses. Surprisingly, none of the females seemed to mind as John congratulated the taller man with a brief kiss.
As the clock struck 2am, the crowds dissipated; starting with the bride and groom catching a cab to their hotel.
"Well, John, you were right" Sherlock mused in the back of their freshly caught black cab.
"I was right?" John asked, his back tucked into Sherlock's side, the taller man's legs outstretched and an arm draped over John's chest. "Right about what?"
"Weddings are brilliant things, and I did enjoy myself" Sherlock said dully.
"See?" John said looking up at his detective "and it's not even over yet" he said with a wink.
Sherlock smiled; "Am I to become another of John Watsons' conquests?" he asked.
"Well, if we are now life partners, congratulations; you won" John laughed.
"Oh good" Sherlock teased.
Once the cab had stopped, Sherlock paid the fee and the two exited onto the street. Sherlock inserted the key into the door lock but stopped to turn to John.
"You have a text" he said simply.
John furrowed his brow and dug in his trouser pocket for his old familiar phone. Sherlock unlocked the door and headed inside.
John read his text in awe;
John, please take care with my little brother. – MH.
"Who was it?" Sherlock asked as he closed the front door behind John.
"Uh, well, it was Mycroft, actually" John murmured as he stood in the hallway, staring down at his phone.
"Asking you to take care of me?" Sherlock scoffed.
"To take care with you" John corrected, still looking down at his phone.
Sherlock bolted the door and turned to face John.
"Maybe that is nice of him. The idea itself of what we have unleashed unsettles me." Sherlock mused before he bounded up the stairs to their flat.
John pocketed his phone and ran after his flatmate.
"If you are having second thoughts, that's ok, just tell me and we can go back to normal" John said calmly, leaning against the kitchen bunker watching his flatmate flick the kettle on.
Sherlock swiftly approached John and pinned him to the kitchen counter.
"No, I never want that" Sherlock paused, aware that his face was one of anger, he calmed himself instantly; "Don't ever think that I don't want you" he said, looking down at the sink behind John "I only meant that…" Sherlock struggled for words and finding none of his own, he decided to pinch Mycrofts' "..I'm getting older…but I have not yet lived."
John's smile was soft and warm, directed only to the Consulting Detective.
John turned slightly and flicked off the kettle; "Time for you to learn then" he whispered as he reached his hands up Sherlock's neck and curled them into the taller man's hair. Once he had gotten his hold, he gently brought Sherlock's lips down to his level and kissed him.
Sherlock wrapped his arms firmly around John's back, holding on allowing himself to be kissed gently, he felt an odd sensation in the pit of his stomach and felt something stirring below his belt line.
"John" Sherlock said, breaking the kiss with some alarm.
"It's ok, Sherlock, that's natural, come here" John said gently, nuzzling the detective's cheek with his nose comfortingly whilst his steady hands went to work on removing his belt.
"It's ok, Sherlock, let go, relax, I've got you" John said in between kisses to the taller man's jaw line.
Sherlock leant into John and followed the experienced mans' instructions.
After a moment or two of passionate and slow kisses, John picked up the pace, grasping Sherlock's curls tighter as his tongue wandered across the border to slide along Sherlock's plump lip. Sherlock shivered at the sensation; opening his mouth for better contact.
Sherlock learned quickly, picking up the pace himself this time, he leant into John more, making his back bend slightly over the counter as he devoured all that he could.
John managed to break apart long enough to breathlessly whisper "bedroom" before his eyes flicked lustily up to Sherlock's eyes and down to his mouth in a fraction of a second and then they fluttered closed as Sherlock kissed him again.
Upon hitting the mattress the two men grappled with each other slightly to remove bulky clothing.
Sherlock's eyes flew wide as his hips were ground against by the shorter man that was currently straddling him.
The two men paused in wonder at the sensation they shared. John leant on his hands, one either side of Sherlock's head as he deliberately and slowly nudged his boxer clad hips into Sherlock's.
Simultaneously they moaned.
Sherlock, with his addictive personality placed large strong hands either side of John's hips and moved the doctor against him again, this time allowing a growl to escape his throat.
This growl took John by surprise as it travelled straight to his groin, making it twitch against Sherlock's matching tented underwear.
"God, Sherlock" John breathed as he fell backward, resting again on his hands behind him.
Sherlock had now taken control, moving John firmly against himself, suddenly he pushed John fully back and hovered over him like a predator surveying his favourite prey.
John's eyes were wide with lust as he stared at Sherlock's almost black eyes, mere inches from his own.
Without further word they kissed, a kiss that was completely uncontrolled and full of desire. It didn't take long for Sherlock to lose himself completely, giving in to this natural high as it washed clearly over him.
John watched in awe as Sherlock's eyes rolled and his body writhed wildly, the sight was more than enough to push the soldier over the edge too.
The pair remained in their positions, panting and minds reeling.
"Did that really just happen?" John asked in shock.
Sherlock allowed a giggle to escape his lazy lips. "Yes and you loved every minute of it" he stated matter-of-factly.
"So, when's our wedding then?" John asked with a wide smile.
Sherlock sat up on his knees surveying John seriously. John smiled mischievously as he caught sight of the white stain on Sherlock's black boxer shorts.
Sherlock smiled "I'm free tomorrow." He said.
John's jaw dropped.