Hidden amongst books
Disclaimer: I own nothing! If I did, there would be lots of kissing and smut!
John Watson ran his hands through his short hair in frustration. Who knew finding that book would be so hard? Even Sherlock, who had agreed to come after much hassling, had no luck finding it, and of course, both men were too prideful to ask for the librarian's help. A sigh escaped the doctor's lips, his patience was wearing thin; he'd been searching for at least two hours already! This place was huge; books covered every shelf and corner.
A worn cover caught his eye. There was nothing special about it, it was small, bound in fading red leather, and covered in dust. He pulled it out with a small cry of triumph and turned around to show his roommate. Perhaps he should have remembered he was standing atop one of the stairs the establishment placed around shelves to reach the higher levels.
As he turned, his foot slipped and he came down, tumbling closer to the floor. He closed his eyes tightly and placed his palms out, as if to stop the fall. A grunt and soft lips against his own made his blue eyes snap open. Sherlock had his arms around him; John's hands were braced against his roommate's chest and their lips were pressed together. A dark blush overtook the army doctor's face as he hurriedly put some space between the dark haired man and himself.
Sherlock stared inquisitively as John stuttered out apologies and rushed off with his book to the desk. In his rush, he missed the smirk that graced his roommate's pale lips.
The walk back to 221B was made in awkward silence, at least on John's part. Sherlock was too occupied staring at his doctor's blushing face to take notice of the quiet that surrounded them. His brain was going a million miles per hour, trying to decipher what could possibly be going through the blond man's head. Could it be possible? All the tiny details seemed to say it was, but his uncertainty begged to differ. It truly must be important if something made the consulting detective doubt himself!
All was quiet when they got to the flat, Mrs. Hudson was out again. John sat down as soon as they got inside and pulled out the book, his keen eyes immediately beginning to scan the lines as his brain put all the letters together to form words, words turning into sentences, and sentences into knowledge which he stored away for further revising at a later date. Or, at least, that's what Sherlock thought. He stared, unblinkingly, at the small man; his blue eyes roving over his figure, taking in every small detail.
He sprung up without warning, startling the reading man into looking up curiously and a little bit warily. Sherlock stalked forward until he was in front of John, whose eyes were guarded yet inquisitive as they looked at him. He slowly plucked the book from the blond's lax grip and put it on the table, not bothering to mark the page as he knew John would find it later anyway.
He gazed intently at John, whose face began to warm up, a feeling he was slowly getting acquainted with as of late. He leaned closer, carefully gauging the ex-army doctor's reaction; dilated pupils, a slight increase in breathing, quite possibly accelerated heartbeat. Sherlock smiled; his lips a mere hair's width away from John, his John, whose blue eyes were wide with lust and want.
Without hesitance, he caught John's soft lips in a passionate kiss, all teeth and battling tongues, fighting for dominance relentlessly, the searing heat coursing through their bodies, making them shiver with pleasure. They separated; a mutual agreement to take this elsewhere. They rushed to the bedroom, stopping occasionally to push the other against the wall and ravish him completely until they couldn't breathe. Sherlock shoved John on the bed, not even bothering to close the door. He sprawled himself over the smaller man, his lips seeking purchase in his neck, biting and nibbling every inch of skin available to him.
His long, dexterous fingers quickly undid all the buttons of John's shirt, thanking every deity he didn't believe in that the man wasn't wearing a jumper today. A small cry of pleasured surprise escaped the doctor as the other man clamped his teeth around his nipple. His hands sensually massaged their way down his chest, his talented tongue following their path torturously slow. John's fists were clenching sporadically, his eyes shut with pleasure, his breathing erratic.
Sherlock smirked to himself as he felt a shiver run through his partner. He looked up, a coy-ish smug look in his eyes, carefully drinking in the image of John laying so wantonly on his bed, cheeks flushed, legs spread, shirt open, chest heaving, eyes closed, and panting breaths escaping his kiss-swollen lips.
He slithered sinuously up his roommate's body, his fingers skimming softly up and down his sides, and captured his lips in a passionate embrace.
They laid next to each other, breathing heavily; bodies molded together, two pieces of a puzzle. The smile would not leave either one; they had finally gotten what they desired. Who'd have known it would be because of one pesky book?
A/N: I swear, I wanted this to be a lemon, but I was unable to write it, I am deeply saddened by this. Maybe someday I'll find the words to write my lemon. This isn't good, at all, but I wanted to write something to inspire my muse. So, as always,
Review?
Much love,
Rai