It was a frigid winter night, not quite late enough for Sherlock to sleep yet, but the cold had crept up on him to the point where he wore a sheet around him, even over his usual night attire. Cases had been sparse lately and as a result he and John had to cutback on a few things such as heating. Even the tea he had been sipping had gone cold. John was wearing more layers than he normally did when he walked up to Sherlock with a fresh cup of tea. "Here, you need it," he said, handing Sherlock the cup.

Sherlock looked up, glad for the new cuppa, and eyed John's layers. "Cold?" He asked, quirking an eyebrow, though John certainly appeared warmer then he did. John sat down next to Sherlock and nodded. It was really very cold. He wished that he had been able to pay the heating bill. The second John sat next to him, Sherlock could feel the warmth radiating off him and instantly scooted closer to capture some for himself. He knew on average John typically slept sooner than he did, which would mean he would be taking his warmth with him... Sherlock scooted closer still, trying to think of a plan. John's heart began racing as Sherlock came nearer to him. A blush spread on his cheeks. He looked away from his flatmate, trying to calm himself. Sherlock just wanted warmth, he did not want John.

John swallowed. "I... um... I should probably... probably be g-going soon..." he said, wishing his voice did not give away his feelings quite so much. He made no move to go, however, instead staying exactly where he was. Any minute now, he would get up and go to his room... He could not manage to convince himself of this, though...

Panic slowly set in. Now that Sherlock had a taste for it, he was not about to lose his personal heater. Grabbing one of John's wrists just in case he made a sudden move to leave he quickly reasoned, "It's awfully cold in the flat... I wouldn't want you to get sick while you sleep... "

John's heart managed to beat even faster. It took him a few moments for him to be able to speak. "You can't get sick from cold," he whispered. If it had been any other time, he would have been thrilled to stay, but he knew that Sherlock only wanted him for his warmth. He wanted to be more than just a furnace to his flatmate.

Sherlock frowned, that was not the response he was hoping for at all. Oh how he wanted to curl up on John's lap and fall asleep, but "not gay" John would certainly have none of that. Maybe showing concern for John's health the wrong tactic. He would have to reverse things. "But John... it is so very cold... and I..." had his voice just hitched? "That is, we coooould keep each other warm..." his voice grew more nervous as he spoke. John's eyes closed. He knew he could not deny Sherlock anything for very long, no matter how much it could hurt him. He might as well enjoy it while he could. He nodded reluctantly, eyes still shut tight. Sherlock had a small victorious smile and gently pushed John down so he was laying on the couch, wedging himself as close to him as he could. He hesitatingly wrapped his arms around John. He did not think the warmth would have such an effect, but he quickly drifted off without meaning to. "Mmmmm John..." he mumbled in his sleep.

John wished that it did not feel so perfect to be in Sherlock's arms. He turned so that he was lying and facing Sherlock instead of away from him. Sherlock looked so beautiful and peaceful in his sleep... John wanted to kiss his perfect lips, but he would not take advantage of Sherlock like that. He settled on kissing Sherlock's cheek. "Goodnight, Sherlock," he whispered as tiredness and comfort overcame him and he drifted off to sleep.

Sherlock's unconscious body let out a light moan of approval, his head naturally seeking out more warmth rested in the crook of John's neck as he occasionally muttered things in his sleep. Sherlock had admittedly dreamed of John before, but it was usually running through the streets of London with him after criminals. Tonight it was how his lips probably tasted of honey and jam. He did not know that his own lips had parted and gently sucked at John's neck. John's eyes snapped open, yet still the exquisite torture remained. So it was not a dream... He could not stop the low moan that escaped his lips. Maybe this was not his best idea... but there was no way he could move.

Sherlock's legs wrapped themselves around John's waist, a small sound making him stir. What was that unfamiliar taste? Slowly his eyes opened to see he had been sucking on skin... That was not right... Still wrapped around John, Sherlock pulled his head back and suddenly recalled his sleeping arrangement. He blushed furiously when he realized what he had been doing. John unintentionally made a quiet sound of protest when Sherlock pulled back. His years of military discipline were failing him as he could not control or hide his growing arousal. He turned crimson at how obvious his enjoyment of their current position was.

"J-J-John?" Sherlock's pupils were blown wide. Oh god, had he just revealed everything? John would surely leave him now. He started uncurling himself from the smaller man. "I'm sorry, so sorry, I didn't know... I was asleep... and um..."

"Don't apologize," John said quickly. He did not want Sherlock to release him, not when he had only just started to feel hope. "Y-you're still... still cold." His arms wrapped around Sherlock, hoping that Sherlock did, in fact, want to stay.

Sherlock froze momentarily before returning to his previous position around John, who felt significantly warmer from the combined body heat. "I was dreaming," said dream popped back into his mind making him blush more, "... I was unaware of my actions..." John tried very hard to not stare at Sherlock's lips, but they were so close... John could resist no longer. He brushed his lips against the detective's gently. Sherlock's lips were softer than he could have ever imagined. "Hmm?" Sherlock hummed confusedly, but made sure John's lips stayed in place for a chaste kiss. Was he dreaming? He had to be dreaming this. Seeing as Sherlock was not objecting, John put more pressure into the kiss, his lips parting slightly. One of his hands found its way to Sherlock's hair and delighted in the feel. His hair was almost as soft as his lips.

Sherlock let out a deep throaty moan. This was most definitely not a dream. He huddled as close to John as he could, slipping his hands up the back of John's clothes. John moaned as well. The hand not buried in Sherlock's hair slid down the taller man's back to his arse. His tongue slid along Sherlock's lower lip. Sherlock's mouth opened in a small gasp. John was heaven. "And here I thought you wouldn't want to stay with me through the night."

"There's nothing I want more," John replied. "Nothing but you." His tongue slipped into Sherlock's mouth. He had never felt as at home as he felt in Sherlock's arms.

"I love you John," Sherlock whispered, his breath ghosting against John's skin before he continued snogging him.

John felt like he was going to die of happiness. "I love you too, Sherlock." He had wanted to tell Sherlock for so long, but he could not risk their friendship. He had hoped that maybe his feelings would lessen over time, but they had only gotten stronger.

"You've no idea for how long I've wished you would say those words," Sherlock said, smiling. He had watched John from afar for so long, he did not think this moment would ever be possible, or that he had missed his chance long ago.

"You've no idea how long I've wanted to say them," John replied. "I didn't because I thought that you would deduce my feelings for you and, since you didn't say or do anything, you didn't feel the same." He did not want to admit out loud how much the possibility of Sherlock rejecting him scared him. John had been rejected and heartbroken before, he could not bear it if Sherlock rejected him too. He loved Sherlock too much.

"Sentiment... not really my strong suit John." Sherlock thought his own actions had been loud enough. Had he not taken the jar of eyeballs out of the microwave for John? Gone to restaurants despite not being hungry just to be with him? Run off all of John's 'girlfriends'? Clearly John was bad at picking up on his hints.

John nuzzled Sherlock's neck. "I suppose we were both just blind." The affectionate nuzzling soon became gentle nips, licks, and kisses. John knew that he would never get bored of this.

"It should seem so." Sherlock gave a low grumble at the excess amount of clothes John was wearing, it was cold... but he was sure he could think of an alternative method for warmth that involved fewer articles of clothing. He began removing John's jumper.

John heart beat faster. Sherlock would not remove his jumper for no reason, considering the temperature... It did not take a genius to figure out Sherlock's intentions. "Hold that thought," he said, untangling himself from Sherlock and standing. He held out a hand for Sherlock to take. "Care to take this somewhere more comfortable? Your bedroom perhaps?"

Sherlock smirked, "John, you're brilliant, I hope you are aware of this." he got to his feet with a bit of a stumble, still half asleep from a moment before, and grabbed John's hand as he marched him off to his room.

"Why thank you, love," John said, grinning. He closed the door behind them.

With predator like movements, Sherlock grabbed John by the waist, picked him up, and gently tossed him on the bed. He was definitely awake now and climbed up after John, hovering just above him, a mysterious glint in his eyes. John's legs wrapped around Sherlock's waist and pulled him closer, capturing Sherlock's lips with his own. He was starting to heat up and definitely agreed with Sherlock's desire to remove his clothing.

"Mm, I think I could get rather use to this," Sherlock purred in his deep, resonating voice. He pulled the offending jumper over John's head and flung it to the side, kissing John passionately again. John moaned. Heaven itself could not be more wonderful than this. He worked on removing Sherlock's jacket.

Sherlock practically ripped John's shirt off, his hands glided down his smooth torso slowly to the top of his trousers, playing with the belt. John followed suit and removed Sherlock's shirt, albeit more carefully than Sherlock had his, and threw the shirt off to the side. His hands ran along Sherlock's pale chest.

"You're so perfect." Sherlock said, almost reverently. He leaned down and trailed kisses over John's body, occasionally licking and nipping.

John moaned. "How on Earth did you get to be so good at this?" he asked breathlessly. His trousers were starting to feel much too tight.

"I observe, commit things to memory, deduce..." Sherlock licked his tongue all the way up John's stomach to his chest and leaned towards his mouth, "and you are my current ongoing experiment." John shuddered as Sherlock's tongue slid along his torso. He would have not liked being just another of Sherlock's experiments, but Sherlock was far too distracting. He could hardly think straight, though a vast majority of his thoughts strongly resembled 'take me now.' He reclaimed Sherlock's mouth in a passionate battle of tongues. Sherlock rubbed against John's waist unashamed, he was entirely too much fun. "I think you are still wearing far too much love." He slipped back down to John's pants and began removing them.

John moaned. "You are... far, far too good at this..." He wanted Sherlock so badly. More than anything in the world, he wanted Sherlock. "Sherlock!" he moaned loudly. His hands quickly removed Sherlock's trousers.

Sherlock grinned wide. He loved how John called his name. Removing John's trousers completely, he cocked his head to the side, hands running up John's thighs. "And what is it you would like me to do now?"

John blushed lightly. "Have your observations not told you what I want?" he whispered. What he wanted Sherlock to do was not something his modesty would allow to be uttered aloud.

"I believe I have an idea... much more fun to hear it from your lips though." Sherlock's fingers looped inside the band of John's pants, debating whether to tease him more or pull them off.

John's blush turned from light pink to bright crimson. "I want you," he said simply, hoping that was enough of an answer to appease his amazing tormentor.

Sherlock kissed his inner thigh. "And I you love." He pressed his mouth to the front of John's pants and lightly kissed him before pulling them off. It felt freeing for John to be rid of his pants, though his blush deepened further since he had never expected to be without his pants in front of Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock smiled. John was stunning with a blush. He had been to war, saved lives, killed for Sherlock, but here he was perfect and exposed for him with a blush. "You're incredible and I love you."

"I love you too," John said. He pulled Sherlock close enough to kiss his exquisite lips. He would never be able to get enough of this; it was too perfect and wonderful for him to ever dream of having enough. He wanted, and fully intended, to kiss and hold Sherlock like this forever. There was no way Sherlock would ever grow tired of snogging John. Just like his dream, he had a faint sweet taste like honey. Sherlock's right hand glided down John's chest until it reached his waist, taking John in hand.

"Sherlock," John moaned into said detective's mouth. How did mere observations teach Sherlock this?

"Good?" Sherlock asked, unsure of himself, as his hand slowly worked John, his thumb gliding over the tip. John nodded mutely, unable to find his voice. Sherlock was so incredible with his hands. John was not sure how much longer he could last before he entirely gave into ecstasy. Sherlock paused momentarily to remove his own pants, his hand continued pleasuring John. John's hand timidly reached out to brush against Sherlock, curious, even in his haze of lust, to see what effect he would heave on the taller man. Sherlock let out a deep, throaty moan at the touch, internally begging John to continue. Encouraged by Sherlock's moan, John grasped Sherlock more confidently, copying on his lover what Sherlock was doing to him. "Ahh John..." he moaned again, speeding up his own movements with John and scooted closer to him. John followed suit, though the combination of Sherlock's hold on him and his on Sherlock was almost more than he could take. With his other hand, Sherlock guided John's hand away and laced their fingers together as he pressed his cock against John's.

"Sherlock... Can't last... much longer..." John panted, his eyes closing. Sherlock grinned and waited for the last possible minute before leaning down and taking John in his mouth, sucking lightly. That was more than John could take. He came into Sherlock's mouth with a shout of the brunette detective's name. Hearing John undid the detective, causing him to come as drank the shorter man down, exhaustion overcoming him. They could clean up later. John curled around Sherlock and fell asleep, whispering, "I love you, Sherlock."

"I love you, John," Sherlock told John. He wrapped his arms around his doctor's sleeping form, falling asleep to the beating of his heart.