Kiss

The streets of London were dark and heavy with a persistent mist and the ever-present sound of traffic rumbled in the distance. Streetlamps flickered and glowed, and lights in houses were switched off as their inhabitants decided it was time to sleep. All in all, it was a normal night in London for everyone but Sherlock and John. For them it was definitely not normal. Sherlock had been wrong about some minute detail of a case, which may not sound too bad, but his mistake had led to him and John walking straight into a trap and subsequently trying to avoid being shot. Between them, they eventually managed to catch the criminal, and fell into a taxi after handing him over to Lestrade.

"How could I have missed the loose button on the victim's coat?" Sherlock was still bemoaning the fact that he had made an error. "Stupid, stupid." He ran his hands through his messy curls as the taxi began its journey back to Baker Street.

"Sherlock, I really have no idea how that tiny piece of information could aid you at all, but do please shut up about it, because my head hurts," said John.

The corners of Sherlock's lips twitched up in a small smile, but he thankfully remained silent and instead turned to look out of the window. John found his gaze inexplicably drawn towards his flatmate and friend. He would have been lying to himself if he said that he didn't find Sherlock attractive, because he really did. The mysterious colour of his eyes; caught somewhere between blue and grey. The way his muscles rippled underneath those ridiculously tight-fitting shirts. The smooth marble curve of his neck that was just begging to be kissed and sucked…

"John?"

Sherlock's deep baritone voice punctured John's thoughts, and a steady flush built up on his cheeks when he realised that he had been caught staring.

"Sorry, I was completely out of it then," John offered weakly as a reply.

"Yes, I had noticed."

The cab pulled up outside 221B and John hastily climbed out of it, leaving Sherlock to pay. Mrs Hudson greeted them in the hallway and briefly chastised them for getting into trouble again, before letting them go upstairs to their own flat. They both hung up their coats and heeled off their shoes, then John went to make some tea and Sherlock paced around the living room, apparently still berating himself for his earlier mistake.

John sighed quietly to himself, finished making the tea and sat down on the sofa. He placed Sherlock's mug beside his own on the coffee table and flicked the television on. Within a few minutes, Sherlock was right beside him, invading his personal space as usual.

"Sherlock, seriously? You've got almost the entire sofa; our legs do not have to be touching." He was absolutely not going to mention what their sudden closeness was doing to his body.

"Interesting," Sherlock said, not making any attempt to move.

"What is?"

"You are."

At that, John moved his gaze away from whatever was showing on the television and towards Sherlock, whose face was only about thirty centimetres away from his own.

"What do you mean?"

"Your pupils are dilated; your breathing has become more deliberate, like you're trying to force yourself to do something…" He reached out and pressed two soft fingers to the pulse point in John's neck. "Your pulse is elevated…" Sherlock's voice seemed to drop an octave. "Need I continue?"

John spluttered for a moment. "I don't know what you're trying to prove, but-"

"Your attraction to me, obviously. Would you act on that attraction if I said I felt the same?" Suddenly Sherlock's confidence was gone, replaced by a quiet vulnerability and a genuine question hung in his words.

"I…what?"

Wordlessly, Sherlock moved John's hand to his neck to feel his rapid pulse. "I must confess," Sherlock said, his voice gravelly. "That I've felt something for you since I met you. I tried to push it away, but it's just become too much…"

John's gaze flickered from his eyes; wide, dark, vulnerable, to his lips; slightly parted, begging to be kissed. Slowly, John leant forwards and pressed his lips against Sherlock's. For a moment, Sherlock was completely still, but then he leant into the kiss, parting his lips to allow John's curious tongue into his mouth. Sherlock moaned softly as John explored his mouth, warm and wet. Their tongues met as Sherlock gained confidence, his hands resting on John's waist as John's tangled into his hair. Eventually they pulled apart, both breathing heavily.

"Sherlock, was that…was that your first kiss?" John asked, untangling his fingers from Sherlock's hair.

Sherlock nodded his head. "I've never been interested in kissing or sex or relationships before, but then you came along and changed everything." He took John's hands into his own. "I want all of those things with you. I'll probably be terrible and I won't know what I'm doing, and I'll still be me but… tell me you want it too?" There was a vague note of pleading in Sherlock's voice.

John gave his hands a gentle squeeze. "Of course I want it too. You know I do." He reached up to cup Sherlock's jaw with one hand and pulled him in for another kiss. This one was a little more urgent, needy. John showed Sherlock how much he was wanted with the swipe of his tongue, the varying pressure of his lips, and the way he gently sucked Sherlock's lower lip into his mouth. In response, Sherlock moaned in encouragement and sucked on John's tongue as it danced with his own. His hands ran over John's body, feeling the defined muscles of his chest, his softer stomach, and the strength of his well-built shoulders. It felt incredible to be this close to someone, to kiss John and be able to put his hands wherever he wanted.

John pulled away, smiling at the disappointed sound Sherlock made as their lips broke apart. "There's plenty of time for that, Sherlock. No rush."

Sherlock merely nodded. "Before we go any further, I think you should know that I'm a…virgin." He looked down at the floor.

John tilted his face back up again. "I know, and it's okay. We can go as slowly as you want."

Sherlock nodded again. "I do want to…you know, have sex with you at some point. Just not yet…"

He looked scared, John realised. "Come here." He held open his arms and Sherlock quickly moved into them, resting his head on John's chest. "There's no need to be afraid. I won't do anything you don't want me to."

Sherlock smiled. "I trust you, John."

"Good, I'm glad. Now come up here so I can kiss you again."