Right uhh so this is my first ever fic and I would love it if you R&R.
oh yeah and I don't own anything... Unfortunately!
Enjoy!
Sherlock turned to John with a look of panic on his face. "John, I'm dying." He said in horror.
"No, you're not, Sherlock, it's only a small burn." John replies with worry on his face.
"I am" he insisted "Painfully and slowly."
"I'm sure I would have recognised something that serious if you were." John tried to reason, the panic making his voice waver.
"I mean I'm slowly dying, everyone is, and I know nothing." Sherlock insists stepping closer to John and invading his personal space. John let out a sigh of relief that danced across Sherlocks' cheek.
"B-but you're the most intelligent man on earth" John stuttered as his heart reacted violently to Sherlock's closeness. He'd accepted that he had feelings for the man ages ago, but still shocked himself with his reaction to Sherlock. Looking up at the tall detective he saw something close to sorrow flickering across his face, but Sherlock schooled his expression before John could be sure.
"You are. You know everything. And what you don't know you can deduce in a matter of seconds." John reassured him.
Sherlock lifted his hand to stroke John's face and slowly, hesitantly brought his lips to meet John's. Before Sherlock could register anything, John had taken over and pushed the Detective against a wall, letting his hands roam freely across Sherlocks' back. The taller man let out a squeak of shock as their hips brushed and John backed off suddenly.
"I'm sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry" He muttered again and again as he straightened himself before running up the stairs to his room, leaving Sherlock standing against the wall, his hand on his lips, stunned. John knew that his reaction was stupid, both reactions he should say. His first, being kissing back, it was obviously an experiment of some sort, and his second, being apologising, it had been Sherlock who initiated the kiss so by rights he should be apologising.
Sherlock was, in a word, shocked. He never expected John to actually have feelings for him, despite all his genius deductions, John was a constant surprise. He was unpredictable. But after what Sherlock had rather idiotically done just three minutes earlier, he had uncovered a completely new facet to the gem known as John. Since when did he start thinking of John in metaphors?
Slowly and quietly climbing the stairs to Johns' room, avoiding the 3rd and 9th step with worryingly practiced ease, he knelt outside the door and listened.