This can be seen as a mini sequel to "Glass" but I originally wrote it to stand alone.
Two things:
a) This story is not betaed, so bear with me here.
b) I'm from the US, so please excuse any inconsistencies with British vs American word usage.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. That honor goes to Sir ACD and Moftiss.
It had been a good day. Saving a couple of lives tends to give John an extra pep in his step.
Sherlock wouldn't really care to hear about his day, but he'd tell him anyway. John chuckles wryly, imagining Sherlock's unimpressed expression when he tells the git about his heroics, and then the frustrated puff of air that would pass between the detective's bow lips before he'd turn himself over on the couch to shut John out.
Arriving at 221 Baker Street, John quickly unlocks the door and rushes up the steps, eager for some tea and perhaps a piece of toast with jam. He's smiling when he reaches the top of the stairs.
"Honey, I'm h—"
Suddenly, there's a wild tangle of dark curls and long limbs rushing forward and ploughing into him, nearly knocking the breath from his lungs.
"Sherlock! What the hell?"
The detective has his face buried in John's neck, so his words are muffled. "I missed you, John. It's so boring when you're not around," he whines. "Why do you have such a dull job anyway?"
John pats his back, signally the hug over, but Sherlock ignores the hint. "Well, actually—"
Sherlock cuts him off this time with warm lips over his own. It's chaste and sweet and almost childlike, just as always when Sherlock initiates physical contact. John grins into the kiss and returns it, naturally taking the lead and progressing the kiss from chaste to a little more intimate. Sherlock lets out a small whimper and copies the doctor's movements. The original playfulness of the kiss quickly changes when Sherlock shifts his weight and tries to jump into John's arms, long legs wrapping around the doctor's waist.
John breaks the kiss. "Jesus, Sherlock, you know you're too big for that." He sounds peculiarly like a parent talking to a child.
Sherlock reluctantly drops back to the ground, moving backwards and pulling John with him. "No, you're just too short."
John's glare is ignored as Sherlock manages to maneuver them to the kitchen where the table is strangely clean.
John eyes the tall man, even as he follows him. "Did you plan this?"
Sherlock looks wounded. "You're so suspicious, John." Then his legs are bumping up against the table and he's pulling John closer.
The doctor may be short, but he's also surprisingly strong, and he knows exactly what Sherlock wants him to do.
Gripping the other man's narrow hips, he bends and lifts the detective onto the edge of the table, moving between those long legs even as they wrap around him, locking him in place. John pulls Sherlock's face back to his and starts the kissing process over again, this time taking it a little further. Sherlock isn't asking for sex this time, but he certainly is asking for a good snog, and John is more than happy to oblige.
Thin lips press against full ones, gently separating them to gain admittance for a warm tongue. Sherlock moans and lets out a little breathy gasp, opening his jaw wider and gripping John's upper arms. Subconsciously, he tightens his legs around the shorter man's waist and they bump together.
"Sherlock," John gasps, pulling away just far enough to allow words, even as he begins fumbling with the detective's shirt buttons. "Sherlock, if you don't want me to take you right here, right now, on this table, I suggest you loosen up a bit."
Sherlock groans, but lessens the viselike grip his legs had created. John moves so they're no longer pressed together in lower regions and continues his assault on the tall man's lips. Pulling that gorgeous top lip in between his own, John finally manages to get the top three buttons undone on the detective's dark purple shirt and spreads the fabric wide to allow access to more of Sherlock's upper chest. Abandoning that mouth, he quickly becomes fascinated with the creamy smoothness of the violinist's neck, sucking and nipping until Sherlock is reduced to a trembling mess and there are marks etched into perfect porcelain skin.
"Should probably keep your scarf on tomorrow," John mutters distractedly, allowing his breath to graze over the detective's damp skin.
Sherlock shudders and drops his head back, revealing a rather inviting Adam's Apple. John, of course, takes advantage of this, and soon Sherlock is unsure how long he'll be able to remain sitting up.
Tongue, teeth, and lips are thoroughly exploring his collar bones by now, taking notice of the dips and planes of his upper chest. John gently bites Sherlock's shoulder and the detective lets out another violent shudder that wracks his entire body.
"John," he chokes out, and the doctor knows he can't go any farther.
He softly smooths the aubergine folds of Sherlock's shirt back over his chest and returns his mouth to the detective's, steadily calming down the trembling body in front of him until their joined lips are lazily caressing the other's.
"Okay?" John asks quietly.
Sherlock nods jerkily, brushing his lips back over John's in a sweetly innocent kiss.
John slowly brushes his fingers through the dark curls on the detective's head and smiles. "I saved lives today."
Sherlock sighs and buries his face into John's neck. "Only mine, John."
Reviews appreciated :) -C