Hi!^_^ I just wrote this without thinking too much, I hope you'll like, please R&R
Disclaimer: Sherlock BBC doesn't belong to me, I wish it did. u_u''
London Scent
John closes his eyes, breathing deeply Sherlock scent. He can smell London, the light fog which embraces the city in the morning. He smells its boring peace, and a moment after he feels a strange strenght tightening is stomach, and a slight pain running from his heart to his leg; there are sounds in his head - bells ringing, people screaming, yelling for help. The imagine of London that Sherlock loves the most, that keeps his brain at work, avoiding it to go rot, spins fast in his head.
Sherlock is looking at him, sneering at him, his eyes shining while watching John s naked body. You know what you re heading for.
John knows he ll forget what peace is. He knows that kissing him, touching him, taking him, he won t ever come back.
Shut up. he says, closing his eyes again. He realised that he d lose his last fragments of quietness in the same moment he crossed Sherlock s eyes at Bart s, the first time they met.
He just has to get used to this.
He presses his lips against Sherlock s, his tongue slipping into the detective s mouth, imprinting his taste in his memory.
He ll get used to this soon, he knows it. It s just a matter of time before he ll become mad as his flatmate - his colleague, his lover.
Just a matter of time.