"That uh that thing you offered to do, that was um good," Sherlock could think straight, do to the adrenaline shooting through his body at the sight of the man he loved strapped to a bomb, and a gun trained on his chest. As he verbally fought with Moriarty, he kept making sure John was safe. Then when he seen John jump behind Moriarty telling Sherlock to run and save himself, he froze. He couldn't leave his beloved John behind to die.
John shook Sherlock from his thoughts when he spoke. "I'm glad no one saw that," he still looked spooked and startled as he said the words that confused Sherlock.
The taller man was to lost in thought on how he could get revenge on Moriarty for nearly killing John Watson that he couldn't form a coherent sentence. Only getting out a strangled, "Hmm."
John stumbled on his words trying hard to not make a fool of himself. "You ripping my clothes off in a dark swimming pool," he finally choked out. Regardless of how much he wanted Sherlock to rip all of his clothes off he added, "People might talk." He heard Sherlock say something about an elf but he couldn't quite understand it as his sights fell upon multiple sniper lasers trained on himself. What shocked John tho, was he seen the same sight when he looked up at Sherlock.
He watched as Sherlock head snapped around to find Moriarty back in the pool area, laughing. "Sorry, boys," he calls. "I'm sooo changeable!" He had whimsically decided that Sherlock "cannot be allowed to continue" and must die. When John sees Sherlock glance at him, all he can do is nod, he's going to support Sherlock in any and every way even if it means he's going to die.
John watches as Sherlock aims his handgun at Moriarty, then lowers it pointing it directly at the explosive-rigged jacket now lying nearly at Moriarty's feet. He see's Sherlock hesitate for the first time since he'd met the man, he watched the look of complete defeat spread across Sherlock's face before he pulled the trigger causing the bomb to go off.
When Sherlock awoke he realized he'd just hit his head and there was no major damage. He then thought of John, who had been close to the bomb by at least a foot. He searched around frantically, his sights finally falling upon the shorter man. He was completely still, and it frightened Sherlock that he might lose John. That was until he seen the man twitch, and then open his eyes.
The second blue been green Sherlock was stumbling over to John making sure he was alright in every aspect. "Does anything hurt, John?" When John hesitated to reply back to Sherlock, he added "Come on, John, say something!"
"N-No," John stuttered. He'd never been this close to Sherlock Holmes before. The strange man is now a mere few inches from him and he found it hard to breath. When Sherlock gave him a once over all self control left him. He grabbed Sherlock's face and slammed their mouths together. He felt Sherlock relax against the kiss, humming in satisfaction. John thought back to the conversation at the restaurant overlooking 22 Northumberland Street, how Sherlock said he knew it would be okay if he had a boyfriend, but considered himself married to his job.
Sherlock pulled away first gasping for breath, bliss written clear as day across the young man's precious face. They both looked up as sirens blared right outside the now crumbling building.
"I thought you were married to the job," John teased as he tried to force his breathing back down to a normal rate.
"I am, but you're part of my job," Sherlock mumbled grinning. The smooth pickup line shot John heart rate up, nearly double the amount in which it should be. He smiled up at Sherlock who now held him in his lap, and crouched over him.
As the EMTS got there, they pulled John and Sherlock apart, helping them individually to the awaiting ambulance. They inspected both parties before clearing them with minor scratches and releasing them to go home.
As they left the crime scene, Sherlock wrapped his arm around John, pulling the shorter man to his side. "Shall we go home?" He asked with a wink. Causing feelings to stir inside of John that he'd never felt for another man.
John let out a strangled, "please." making Sherlock laugh and let go. John watched as the near perfect man hailed a cab and they piled in.
"221b Baker Street please," Sherlock commanded the Cabbie. John watched every movement of his mouth, every twitch, finding more and more things to love about Sherlock in every single thing he noticed. When Sherlock caught him staring neither man said a word, but John watched in awe as Sherlock's face turned a interesting shade of red. As they rounded the corner to their street Sherlock winked at the last second before jumping out of the now stopped car and trekking the few feet to their door.
John watched as Sherlock disappeared through the door, and up the stairs. Smiling at the way Sherlock still hadn't changed. When John himself made it up the stairs he was greeted by Sherlock who had him pinned to the wall next to the door, and soon had their mouths slotted together. John moaned into the kiss, feeling his body begin to react to the highly sexual act in which they were performing.
John was about to take it a step further when Sherlock stepped back, mouth swollen and slightly bruised from the violent kissing. "We should go to bed," he gasped looking anywhere but at John. Upon closer inspection John noticed the tent Sherlock was pitching I'm his pants. He never knew Sherlock Holmes could even get turned on, and besides that, the man was huge. John didn't have time to do anything else as Sherlock all but ran from room and down the hall. When John tried to see if he was okay, he realized Sherlock had locked the door into his bedroom. He shrugged and went to his own room upstairs.
"Goodnight, Sherlock!" He yelled before shutting his door, signaling the end to an odd day.