AN: I am new to this fandom. -I saw Sherlock Holmes 2 last week and began shipping these two about 20 minutes into the movie. So much subtext there! I started reading fanfics about them and got inspired with this little plot-bunny. I tried to write them in character but I'm not really sure I succeeded – after all I only have one viewing of the movie to base it off of.

This story is full of firsts for me – first Sherlock Holmes, first romance and first slash fic. I would love some constructive criticism – but bear that in mind and please be nice. There will be a chp2. I'll upload in a few days.

Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock Holmes. If I did Watson/Holmes would be a canon couple.

"What do you want for your birthday Watson?"

The voice pulled him out of the book he'd been engrossed in a moment ago. Glancing over the top of his book, towards the owner of that voice. "Sorry Holmes, What did you say?"

A small sigh of exasperation was heard before "I said 'What do you want for your birthday Watson?' ". Watson shrugged. "You don't to bother with a gift Sherlock." Then returned to his book.

A few moments later he was engrossed in it once again and failed to notice Holmes moving behind his chair. Suddenly there was a hand reaching for his book pulling it from his grasp and a pair of lips whispering in his ear. "What do you want from me John?"

Although Holmes had a habit of invading personal space and Watson really should be used to it; those whispered words caused him to start violently and leap from his chair. "Dammit Holmes! What was that for?"

Calmly Holmes replied "I was merely trying to get your attention."

"Well why did you have to do it like that?" Watson demanded, feeling rather flushed. His mind wouldn't stop replaying the sensation of Holmes' lips brushing ever so slightly against his ear and the feel of his hot breath on his neck...

Noting that Holmes was speaking; Watson quickly snapped himself back to reality.

"Honestly Watson there is no need to get so worked up about it. I am simply trying to figure out what you would like for your birthday alright? So please answer me. Oh and don't give me any sentimental riffraff about "Your friendship is enough for me Holmes."

Watson couldn't help but grin at that. "Do you really think I would say that to you Holmes?"

Holmes however wasn't paying any attention and continued to speak "Perhaps a nice bottle of wine? Maybe a fancy pocket watch? Invite a few friends around for a bit of gambling?" He moved closer to Watson his eyes raking over him as if he could deduce a gift idea from the sight of him. "Hmm, you don't seem to like any of those ideas..."

Watson remained silent feeling himself heat up under Holmes' gaze.

What do you want from me John?" Holmes repeated.

Damn! Did he have to say it like that? Using the exact same phrasing he had moments ago when he whispered in his ear? Throwing his already "active" imagination into overdrive.

What did he want? He knew very well what he wanted. He wanted to feel those enticing lips pressed against his own. He wanted to feel those warm calloused hands dancing across his bare skin. He wanted to see those magnificent Mahogany eyes darken with passion. He wanted to hear Holmes moan in pleasure and know that he was the cause. He wanted Sherlock screaming his name as he came.

"Watson!" The voice snapped him back to reality. "Are you alright?" "Oh yes. Perfectly fine Holmes just -uh – thinking". Watson answered scrambling to compose himself.

"Are you sure? Your breath is labored, you face flushed and sweaty and your pupils are dilated. Those signs are usually indicative of extreme nervousness or arous-"

"Sherlock." Watson cut him off in a warning tone. "Don't bother with a gift for me. There is nothing I want that you will give me. So just leave it be!"

Holmes looked rather surprised at Watson's outburst. Hoping the matter was settled Watson picked his book up off the floor where Homes had carelessly flung it moments ago. Sitting back in his chair he attempted to become once again engrossed in his book. This attempt failed monumentally because he was unable to get the certain images out of his mind. The fact that he could feel the subject of those images staring at him from behind his book didn't help things either. Moments later Holmes spoke.

"You know that was a rather odd way of phrasing that sentence John." Oh hell. He could already see where this was going. Why did he have to be so stupid? Why hadn't he just given Holmes a simple gift idea so he was left alone? Closing his book with a huff he glanced up at Holmes; who paced as he continued speaking.

"You said 'there is nothing I want that you will give me.' This implies -" Watson stood waving his hand in an attempt to cut Holmes off. "I didn't mean anything by it Holmes; it was just a little slip of the tongue."

Holmes quirked an eyebrow at him and replied calmly "Watson don't play games with me. You will lose. I know that you said exactly what you meant. You always do. Whatever you mean is obviously upsetting to you; judging by the fact that you didn't reprimand me for throwing your book on the floor like you always do.

Now the question is what exactly do you mean?

As I was saying before; If you had said something else like 'There is nothing I want that you can give me' that would make a bit more sense. It would imply that there is something you want but I am unable to give it to you. Perhaps something outlandishly expensive. However you said 'There is nothing I want that you will give me.' .Saying that implies that there is something you want that I am perfectly capable of giving you but I am unwilling to." He stopped and turned towards Watson. "What could you possibly ask for that I am capable but unwilling to give you John?"

Watson's heart was pounding heavily at the question, but he remained silent. Seeing he wasn't going to answer Holmes continued speaking.

"I am coming very close to solving this little puzzle. Now are you going to tell me yourself or do I have to figure it out?"

He watched Watson intently; the ball was in his court. Watson's mind was reeling. Why did he have to be so bloody observant! It was just one little word. Damn. Should he tell Holmes himself? He'd managed to keep his secret for years now and after one little slip-up it was going to be out in the open. Should he just let Holmes figure it out? Maybe he would get lucky and Holmes would come to an erroneous conclusion that he could easily refute. But he knew better. He could practically hear the puzzle pieces clicking together in Holmes mind. Any moment now he would have it. Taking a deep breath he forced himself to look Holmes in the eyes. As blue met mahogany they both spoke. "I want you Holmes." "You want me Watson." Watson's voice was low and heavy at his admittance. Holmes' was tinged with disbelief. The silence that followed was so thick Watson felt as though he might suffocate. Finally forcing himself to speak he nodded and said "Yes Holmes. I want you."

Something seemed to soften in Holmes face and he strode purposely towards Watson; stopping when their noses where almost touching. Then he said "Are you sure John?" Holmes proximity was overwhelming him. With the delectable "Holmes" scent enveloping him and those mahogany eyes boring into him all Watson could do was nod slightly. With that Holmes closed the distance between them.

Watson could scarcely believe it and for a moment stood there dumbly with Sherlock's lips pressing against his. He felt Sherlock start to pull away, obviously confused by the lack of reaction. Watson quickly wrapped his arms around Holmes one mid-back the other snaking it way through Sherlock's dark curls; pulling him closer. Sherlock responded in kind, wrapping his arms around Watson; then gently nipped his bottom lip. Watson mirrored his action and they continued on like this for a few moments gently nipping and pulling. Watson moved his hand out of Holmes' hair gently trailing his fingers down his neck. Holmes moaned at the contact. Watson couldn't help but smile into the kiss. That sound was amazing. Taking advantage of the smile Holmes quickly slipped his tongue into Watson's mouth; tracing its contours. Now it was Watson's turn to moan. Fighting for dominance he reached his own tongue into Holmes' mouth. God this man tasted amazing. Coffee, tobacco and something else as delicious and difficult to describe as Holmes himself. This man was a brilliant kisser. Then again he was brilliant at everything he did so it should come as no surprise.

Finally they broke apart desperate for air.

Stepping back a bit he saw that Holmes lips were swollen and his eyes were dark. He could only imagine what he must look like. "I could get used to seeing him like this." Watson mused silently to himself with a smile. Then Holmes spoke, his voice low and husky. "Well Watson, you want me for our birthday you've got me. I'm all yours." At those words Watson's eyes darkened with a look of hunger and with a low growl he quickly tackled Holmes lips; anxious for the rest of his gift.