A/N: This is a little fic that popped into my head after I saw dauntingfire's amazing work "Just...stop" on DeviantArt and it's probably a good idea to take a look at that. Unfortunately I can't post a link here but here's the address
art/Sherlock-BBC-Just-don-t-179070173
Sorry for anyone reading my Star Wars story Models but I've been bitten by the Sherlock bug. Anyway, first Sherlock fanfic, enjoy.
Disclaimer: Everything is either the show's producers or ACD's.
John trailed behind Sherlock; the lanky detective still full of his case-related buzz while his shorter companion battled with fatigue. Hurried footsteps failed to keep up with the longer strides, hence John's position following the sweep of a dramatic black over-coat. He was so tired it took his brain a few seconds to realise that Sherlock had turned down an alleyway to their right.
"Sherlock?" he mumbled.
The tall genius didn't stop, just threw an absent reply over his shoulder,
"Shortcut."
Following Sherlock-now wasn't that a surprise-John couldn't help but notice that the Consulting Detective was oddly distracted. By now he'd usually be explaining to John how he solved the case, though not without the odd half-scathing, half-teasing comments about the Docter's intelligence.
But now he was seemingly having an internal debate. Knowing that he would be asked if he was needed, John continued concentrating on placing one foot in front of another. Suddenly the taller man seemed to reach a decision and whirled back around towards him. Proceeding to pin him against the wall of the alley, Sherlock bent his head and kissed him softly, at odds with the way he had roughly pushed the Docter.
John swallowed a moan-God he had wanted this for so long-as he deepened the kiss, his tongue slipping into Sherlock's mouth. Both of them were breathing heavily by now, and Sherlock broke away from his mouth to kiss a path down his neck.
"Sherl..." John started to speak but broke off as Sherlock gently bit his pulse point. Gathering his wits, John pushed against the taller man's chest.
"Sherlock, stop." The genius stopped sucking on John's neck and looked up at him, eyes dark with desire and hair in disarray. "Just...stop."
"Why?" Sherlock asked, hurt and confusion in his face.
"Because I, I don't want this to be a casual thing or...an experiment or something," said John, hating how he sounded.
The reply was soft but resolute, "John, this is not casual thing for me, or an experiment."
"But how do I know?"
"John, I love you."
John gaped. "You love me?"
"Yes," said Sherlock, looking at the ground. "I...ah, understand if you don't feel the same, I mean I know you're attracted to me but..." he was burbling now, but stopped suddenly when John placed a single finger upon his lips.
"I love you too, you unsufferable, brilliant man!" he was grinning broadly now, tiredness swept away at the news that Sherlock loved him too. Sherlock laughed then, and the sound shot straight to John's groin, he couldn't help but kiss him.
"Let's go home..."
