This is my first (yaoi) fanfiction ever! So please rate and review, I'd love any comments and feedback thanks!

I watched him as he puzzled over the latest case, whilst lounging on our sofa – I observed those magnificent brows of his; drawn in to a frown of concentration. One elegant hand propping up his finely featured face whilst the other weaved those nimble; violinist fingers through his immaculate hair.

Beautiful...

Filled, as always, with a longing that I have in vain attempted to smother for so long, I felt a fire alight in my loins; a fire of the most lustful kind. I wanted so desperately to send those raven locks in to disarray, to place my hands around that swan like neck and plant kisses all along that alabaster flesh. His skin looked so soft to the touch…

To this very day, I still have no idea quite what came over me, what made me decide to risk throwing away all I had, to finally succumb to the demons that I'd tried so hard to imprison; yet before I knew what I was doing I had left the sofa, and my fears, behind me and was standing over Holmes's desk. He looked up at me.

"Everything quite all right Watson?" he queried, a light of amusement dancing in his grey orbs and a smile with the slightest hint of bewilderment adorning his lips…those lips.

I seized him by the collar; yanking him abruptly in to a standing position, without seeing his reaction, I leaned in and smashed my mouth against his.

Finally, freedom; it was pure bliss, thrusting my tongue down his un-expecting throat, tasting, excavating. My entire being was overwhelmed with so many emotions. I had kept it all under lock and key for so long, dressing my love in the garb of friendship and admiration. I wondered, that with his keen intellect and astounding ability to read emotion with inhuman ease, had he ever suspected?

After what seemed an eternity; an eternity that I would have gladly drowned in, I pulled away. His usually bloodless cheeks were flushed with a hint of pink, he was shaking. I felt a twinge of guilt then, I had been a little rough with him. I gazed in to those twin grey stars; expecting disgust or hatred to gaze back; but I saw neither. There was only shocked confusion and…innocence? A completely child like innocence that I'd never seen in the man before; that was when it hit me;

he must still be a virgin.

I'd often assumed as much and considered the man to have never had any form of intimate relationship; naturally I had no way of knowing for definite. However; seeing that look confirmed it all, instantly any doubt on that matter evaporated.

Before I had felt contentment; but now that flame was firing up again. I wanted him. Previously my troubled mind had needed an outlet and a way to express my feelings; I suppose I couldn't stand to live in a lie anymore. Although there were many things I wanted to do to my dear detective, they where what I would only in my wildest dreams set out to achieve, things that I'd only experienced in my most dark and sinful fantasies. Things that no gentleman should desire to do.

But now…

If no one had taken him before, then I would claim him as my own. He had always been above me in everything; always the master of his trade, always on top. Well that was about to change, I would make his arrogant eyes succumb to me!

"W…Watson?"

Seeing that he had regained the power of speech, I quickly endeavoured to silence him, planting hard, brutal kisses along his well-defined jaw. I didn't want to talk. I didn't want to think. I didn't want all of this to end.

He gasped and then stiffened in my arms; letting out little noises of pain as my kisses turned in to possessive bites, no doubt swelling in to blue marks ringed with the imprints of my teeth. I ran my arms up and down his thin frame. Damn, his skin was every bit as soft as I'd imagined; like silk. I wanted him. My hard length throbbed.

"W…W...Watson!" He cried again. I nipped at his earlobe and then whispered commandingly in to his ear,

"Call me John."

"John." He sighed, trembling, as my hands ran more and more rigorously over him, he was helpless. I needed to explore him; I couldn't contain myself much longer. My erection was practically ripping my trousers.

Savagely I ripped off his tie and threw his jacket over my shoulder; I then began to undo his shirt buttons, pulling many off in the process. Sucking and nibbling at his prominent collar bones and angular shoulders as his top half became bare, inhaling his enticing scent - soap tinged with smoke, only made me need to undress him all the more quickly. He moaned incoherently, sinking down to the floor with me. Laying him upon his back, I tried to control my raging desires and slow myself down. I was acting in blind passion, I needed to steady myself.

Gently removing his trousers I planted softer kisses on to his chest and wondrously flat stomach. His flushed face, ruffled hair and apprehensive expression where so unlike the Sherlock I knew.

It was completely indescribable how it felt to have him at my mercy.

As I discarded his final garments, I decided to take a look at my handiwork.

He was perfect. A true work of art, surely he must have been heaven sent. He was striking enough in clothes; out of them he was simply stunning. Smooth, like the purest white marble; blotched only where my love bites where purpling nicely. His dark hair was a gorgeous contrast to that snow like skin; and so elegant! A strange mixture of feminine beauty merged with the sharp angles that are granted to the male portion of our race. I swear that there was not one ounce of superfluous flesh on his body, he was all legs, eyes and taught muscle. I hungrily roved my eyes over him, taking in every willowy curve; preparing myself to pounce; ready to ravage him…until I met his eyes.

He looked so vulnerable and so completely afraid. Those two pools of grey were filled with fear. I had never seen his features graced with such pains.

My animal craving for dominance melted instantly. I thought hard. This was not fair on him. Deep down I knew that my love for him was too strong to allow me to ever hurt him or force him to do my bidding. Lust is so much weaker than true love. But what had I done? What was I preparing myself to unleash upon the only person I will ever truly adore? But most of all, what was I to do now? I loved him. If I ever did anything I wanted to make this enjoyable; for him and for me. But why would; or should, he ever consider merging with me?

I moved over to him; he flinched, but I carried on forward, taking his slight frame in to my arms, he felt so delicate; like I could break him at any moment if I chose. He remained still for some time, but then I felt slender arms and stealthy hands embrace me. We stayed like this for some time.

As I felt tears sting the corners of my eyes, it was I who chose to break the silence.

"Holmes, I'm so sorry!"

He broke away, lifting his head from my shoulder he pulled back so that our eyes could meet.

"Surely after this, my dear John, we should be on a first name basis?" Wearing a wry smile, a sparkle of his usual dry humour shone through. I couldn't believe it; the man had almost completely regained his composure.

"After all…you did demand it of me." He spoke this with more than a mere tinge of bitterness.

I choked back more tears, and laughed what sounded rather like a sob.

"As witty as ever! But I deserved that one…Sherlock." It felt odd; but not in the slightest disagreeable to call him by his fore name.

He smiled a small, strange and slightly sad smile at me. I could no longer look at him, allowing my tears to flow freely; I turned to stare at the carpet. He'd been nothing but kind, noble and an extremely good friend to me all these years, and what had I done? I had nearly abused him; taken advantage of him in his very home. I didn't deserve to be looked upon by something so magnificent.

Sharply my breath caught in my throat as long, lean fingers gently tugged my face.

"Oh what am I to do now?" I cried, to no one in particular.

"This."

Soft lips engulfed my mouth. It wasn't a hungry, desperate kiss like that I'd enacted before; forcing my tongue in to every crevice of his mouth, leaving him gasping for air. Instead this was gentle and warm. I could have gladly stayed like that for ever; until the unravelling of time itself. But apprehension tugged at my mind,

"Sherlock...why are you doing this?"

He bit the lower lip of his sculpted mouth; nearly drawing blood; lost for words – a new experience for the man. Gently I reached for his pointed chin and lifted his gaze to mine.

"Because…" he looked away, but struggling; he turned back to me, "because I love you John."

Bliss.

Looking back, all from that point dissolves in to one blissful blur.

He loved me.

He loved me.

He still loves me.

Once it had been established that our feelings were mutual, it was no longer I who would be the first to act and he resumed his place, as he had always been, as the master…

But I'm working on that. Those grey eyes will become clouded by passion

And it will be my doing.

But until then, I'm happy that the one who; I will swear, was made for me, returns what I feel. I do not care if it is unnatural, to us; it is the most natural thing in the world.

I love him. I always have. I always will.