This hasn't been edited so I apologise for any mistakes. It's all my fault.
The train car was brought into light from the flickering bulbs. The timer started to count down. Fear hit John like a ton of bricks
"That's just great!" John threw his hands up in defeat. Sherlock just came back from the 'dead' and now he's stuck with a bomb. He was hoping to have a life with Mary. Get married and have kids. Maybe solve crimes now that Sherlock was back.
"Calm down, John. You freaking out isn't going to help." Sherlock replied in a soft tone.
"No! We are stuck here with a bomb with no way of disarming it, calling the police, or running." John paced from side to side. Wait. "Sherlock, go into your mind palace."
Sherlock scoffed. "Do you really think I have how to disarm a bomb tucked around in there somewhere?"
John raised his eyebrows. A silent 'really' was shared. "Yes!"
"Maybe. Just give me a second." Sherlock shut his eyes tight and searched deep in his mind palace. After a few seconds his eyes opened wide.
John saw sorrow in those blue-green pupils. He sighed in surrender. "You have got to be kidding me. The great Sherlock Holmes doesn't have 'how to disarm a bomb' in his mind."
"I'm truly sorry, John." Sherlock fell to his knees and threw his hands towards the wires. The timer beeped with every tick. He looked for anything to stop it. Slowly, he raised to his feet and shook his head.
"God dammit, Sherlock. This is just great!" John was furious at his friend. But he was also scared for him.
Sherlock walked over till he was face to face with John. Their noses brushed slightly.
John leaned back as the space was a little too small for him. But before he could back away to put some distance between them, Sherlock grabbed his wrists and held them tight.
"John. Please forgive me." Sherlock had a small frown on those bow lips.
John sighed and shook his head. "I course I fucking forgive you." He knew he couldn't be mad forever at his friend. After what he had been through. At least he was given the miracle of having him back.
Sherlock smirked and lowered his head to let their lips meet. Feeling the muscles tense at the touch. He was to back up and apologize for the inappropriate behavior but a hand reached and pulled on his hair, bringing him closer.
A tongue swept against his bottom lip and he granted access. He slowly opened his mouth and allowed it to explore the surface of his teeth and finally tangle with his own. It was getting hot and really fast too. They pulled away eventually to get air. Sadly, they needed it to live.
John blushed and looked down at his feet. "That was..." he cleared his throat and wiped his mouth. "Wait! What about the bomb?!"
Sherlock smiled. "The timer shows eight minutes. Want to go off with a bang?"
John always had a secret crush on his best friend and he knew it was stupid. Sherlock said he was married to his work and that he wasn't interested in relationships. But yet here he was just after a snog, suggesting something intimate. John smiled and told himself, why the hell not.
Sherlock slipped off his coat and put it on one of the seats. Removing the scarf soon after. The purple shirt that he secretly loved tugged at the buttons. As if they were hanging on for life.
John watched as the long, slender fingers rested on those angular hips. He just imagined the fingers wrapping around him and tugging slightly. He didn't even realize how close Sherlock was getting until he felt a warm pressure push on the inside of his thigh and moving upward. He groaned as the touch teased the side of his cock.
"Do you want it?"
The deep baritone voice growled into his ear getting his eyes to shoot open. He didn't realize he closed them but it felt too good to care. "Yes. Please yes."
"I don't think you want it enough. Maybe you never will." The hand slowly fell from the place on his thigh.
John reached out and grabbed Sherlock's wrist. "I want this." He hissed his reply. "I've always wanted this."
Sherlock smirked and lower his head for their lips to meet. The lips moved in harmony and John let his tongue explore the texture of the lips. The soft, smooth skin. The light pink that stretched when he bit the lower lip and dragged it in to suck on. A dark moan erupted from the long pale throat of the man in his grasp.
Sherlock pulled back and fell to his knees, letting his pale, long fingers work on the belt buckle. The one thing separating them. The leather belt was released and pulled from the jeans. He looked up to see John's head back against the window of the train car. He took this as a sign to continue. The button and zipper were soon undone and he saw the bulge under the red underwear twitch. The red against the tan skin made himself twitch in excitement.
John waited as the jeans that created friction fell to the floor. He had completely forgotten he was wearing his red pants and should have been embarrassed but he was ready for what was soon going to happen.
Sherlock watched as John's cock sprang out as he lowered the hem of the pants and saw it was already leaking with precum. He slid his tongue on the underside and was rewarded with a thrust of the hips.
"Please, Sherlock. I need you."
Sherlock put the tip of his tongue into the slit. A moan came from above. Sherlock wanted, no needed, to taste John in his mouth. He slid the cock all the way in till it hit the back of his throat. The saltiness trailed down his throat as he swallowed.
John had to stop himself from thrusting forward into the wet cavern that surrounded him. The muscles of the neck contracting and drawing him closer and closer. "I'm getting close, Sherlock." John moaned as that small lick of the tongue caused him to go over the edge. He watched as Sherlock swallowed every drop except for the small smear on his lip.
Sherlock stood up onto his feet and smirked as he looked into the dilated eyes of his friend.
John grabbed hold of the curly hair and brought their faces closer together. He licked up the cum and tasted himself on his lips. "That was... brilliant." John completely forgot about the bomb the last few minutes and it hit him like a ton of bricks.. "What about the bomb? How much time do we have?" He frowned and dropped his hands from Sherlock's shoulders. Waiting for the bomb to go off any second.
Sherlock backed up and chuckled as the facial expression. "You should have seen your face."
John's face went from confused to angry so fast you wouldn't be able to see it. "Sherlock. What are you talking about? We have a ticking bomb on the floor of this train car. There's no time to sit and laugh at my face."
Sherlock was still bent over from laughter and tried to control his breathing. "John. Please don't get upset about this." Sherlock stood straight and walked over to the other end of the car in case John decided to take a punch. "There is an off switch. They put it on the side where no one could see it. It was the only way for me to find out how you really feel. And I've come to the conclusion you feel the same."
John lowered his chin to his chest and breathed in heavy, long breaths. This a thing Sherlock would do and he couldn't expect anything different. Sherlock. You prick. Of course I do. I have since the day I met you. You have always fascinated me and given me a sense of adventure." John went over and placed a hand right above Sherlock's heart. Feeling the beating gave him hope. "Lets go home."
"Home is anywhere you are."
John took Sherlock's hand and they left before the police got there. Back to spend, hopefully, their whole lives together.
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