A/N: So I finished this story months ago (I think, not sure) and somehow managed to never post it. Enjoy!
At first it had only been about sex.
For a long time they didn't have sex, they were just flatmates, friends and partners. One night after an exhilarating chase that ended with them crouched behind a stack of boxes in a dark alley, that all changed. Sherlock grabbed John and began to kiss him with an alarming fierceness. At first John was too startled to respond, but he soon was grasping at Sherlock and matching his intensity.
Sherlock stepped back, pulling John with him until John had Sherlock pinned against the wall. It took a moment for them to arrange themselves, but soon John had a firm grip on Sherlock.
Sherlock undid his own pants and slipped them down, then undid John's and tugged out his cock. He then produced a vial of lube from his jacket pocket and was smearing it on John's cock before John fully realized what had happened.
A moment later he was sliding into Sherlock, both of them gasping at the sudden new contact. John held still for a moment, waiting for Sherlock's body to get use to the intrusion. Soon he was moving, he face buried in Sherlock's neck to stifle his groans. He reached one hand between their bodies and grasped Sherlock's cock, stroking it to match their thrusts. Sherlock came quickly in John's hand, sending John over the edge.
Once their breathing had gone back to normal they separated and Sherlock cleaned himself and John up expertly. During the short walk back to their flat they were both quiet. It was only during this walk that John realized they hadn't spoken at all in the alley.
"Last night was highly satisfying," Sherlock said as a way of greeting when John walked into the kitchen the next morning.
"Good morning to you too," John said. He started making tea while Sherlock sat in his chair and watched him.
"We could do that again, and other things," Sherlock said. John stayed silent as he made tea, thinking about what Sherlock might be offering.
"Just sex? Is that what you want?" John asked. He tried not to sound disappointed-he should have known a relationship with Sherlock wouldn't be an option.
"Yes, if you want."
"Alright." John sat down in his chair to read the paper, his fresh cup of tea cooling at his elbow. Just sex, what could go wrong?
A lot.
The sex was fantastic, and there was a lot of it. John would have never guessed that Sherlock was so interested in sex. After a few months they had had sex in half a dozen alleys, Sherlock's room, John's room, the shower, the kitchen table, the desk, the couch, Sherlock's chair, John's chair and on one memorable occasions, in a broom closet at the Yard.
It was just sex they'd kiss, they'd fuck and then clean up and go back to whatever they had been doing. At times it was hard for John to maintain the fiction that they were just friends, especially considering they spent so much time doing things that most friends would never do to each other.
John was working on his latest blog entry one afternoon as Sherlock worked on an experiment in the kitchen. It was just a normal afternoon, except that it was Saturday, and all day John had been imaging where he would take Sherlock if they were actually dating. Dating Sherlock would be difficult, plans would often be cancelled or postponed, but he imagined it would be exciting and worth all of the last minute plan changing.
He looked over at Sherlock and regarded him, his eyes roaming over the body he was intimately familiar with. He didn't want sex at that moment-he wanted intimacy.
"Do you need something?" Sherlock asked without looking at John.
"You, want to go out tonight?" John asked. They went out loads of times before, but it was always obvious they were out as friends and not as lovers. Sherlock raised his head from the microscope and looked at John.
"Sure, where are we going?"
"Dinner, if that's not too boring for you. And there's a new art exhibit that just opened, thought you might like to go and criticize the artwork.," John smirked as he watched Sherlock mule over the proposition.
"Seems acceptable." He turned back to his microscope and John went back to his blog. This time it was much easier to focus.
After getting kicked out of the museum they went home and ended up in Sherlock's bed, naked and tangled in the sheets. It was hitting the point when John would normally get out of bed, get dressed and go to his own room, but he was finding it difficult to leave. They never actually slept together, it was not something they had discussed, this was just how things worked out.
"Stay with me, I know you want to. Its written all over your face," Sherlock murmured in John's ear.
He did stay that night, and every night after.
It started to become more clear that they were in a relationship, so much so that other people had started to notice. Mrs. Hudson had always thought they were in a relationship so nothing change there. Lestrade was thrilled when he found out, which later turned out to be partially because he was happy for them, and also because he won the pool at the Yard of when they would get together. Molly cried, which alarmed Lestrade who had mentioned it in passing when he saw her. He ended up taking her out for a pint, and then later taking her back to his place. Mycroft had known all along. John wondered if he had ever caught them on CCTV when they were in an alleyway. He tried not to dwell on that thought.
The most startling revelation was when the press released a story on them. Sherlock and John were minor celebrities thanks to his blog. They never thought anyone would care enough to write an article about their love lives and include numerous color photos. At least no one had caught them having sex in an alley.
John bought the newspaper with their picture on the front, and then dropped it on the table next to where Sherlock was flipping through a textbook. He had been highlighting sections and muttering to himself when John got home.
"There's an article about us, they've given us a nickname as a couple-Johnlock. It's not even clever," John said. He went about making tea, hoping this would calm him down, while Sherlock read the article.
"These are some good pictures of us. Do you always stare up at me like a lost puppy?"
"Oi! Watch it!"
"They seem to believe we have been secretly dating and just now went public. At least they got something right." Sherlock tossed the paper aside and went back to his textbook.
The papers then started to report that John and Sherlock were secretly engaged and were planning their wedding. This rumor started thanks to Sherlock and a joke Lestrade made.
"If I was a minor celebrity I'd mess with the press. Make them think I spend all my time at Doctor Who conventions or that I'm secretly planning my own wedding." Lestrade had meant it as a joke, but Sherlock had taken it rather seriously.
They laughed about it and then didn't talk about it, until Sherlock took John to a bakery and started having him sample cake. Later that day they looked at center pieces and then they got sized for tuxes. John thought about putting an end to it, but Sherlock seemed to be enjoying himself so much that John let it continue on.
They bought the papers with the articles about their secret wedding planning, laughed about them and then had sex. After a few weeks of wedding planning (Sherlock seemed to think of everything, they'd even registered for gifts) they were lying in bed and John couldn't help but imagine being married to Sherlock. The satisfaction of telling people that Sherlock was his husband would be incredible.
"Do you ever actually want to get married?" John asked. Sherlock had been half asleep, John's questions pulled him back from the brink of sleep.
"Obviously, whose wedding did you think we were planning?"
"We're getting married? When? Why didn't you tell me?"
"I thought it was obvious. I apologize, I will warn you well in advance of our next big life decision. And the wedding is in two months. I'll admit I did get a little carried away. At first it was just a joke, but eventually I realized I wanted to marry you. So we started to plan our wedding." He propped himself up on his elbows and looked down at John who was still trying to wrap his head around the fact he had been engaged for a few weeks without realizing it.
"Mrs. Hudson is going to be thrilled when we tell her. Who do you want to be your best man? I was thinking Lestrade for me, and maybe Mike for you but-" John stopped Sherlock from talking with a kiss.
"I love you. You are mad, and brilliant and odd and perfect in every way," John said.
"I love you too. I'd be lost without my blogger."
"No, John! You are asking too much of me!" Sherlock was stomping around the flat, his dressing gown flowing dramatically behind him.
"I'm only suggesting it would be a good idea seeing as-"
"Good idea? John, asking Mycroft to be my best man is a horrible idea!"
"He's your brother, and he does actually care for you. In his own Mycroft way."
"You're just doing this so Lestrade can be your best man instead."
John rubbed his hands over his eyes and sighed. For a moment he stood still, eyes closed and listened to the sound of Sherlock moving around. When he opened his eyes again Sherlock was leaning against the kitchen doorway and watching him.
"You actually think this is a good idea? He always sticks his nose where it doesn't belong and tries to make things go his way instead." Sherlock looked like an overgrown teenager as he stood and pouted.
"Yes, I really do."
"Fine, if you say so."
John moved so he was standing in front of Sherlock with only a few inches between them. "Have I ever told you how sexy you are when you pout? It must be those lips." John licked his lips and then closed the distance between them.
"Are you trying to get me to do what you want using sex?" Sherlock asked.
"I already got you to agree, so I don't think that fits with this situation." John said as he started to nip at Sherlock's neck.
The familiar footfalls of Lestrade sounded on the stairs and they separated, trying to hide their disappointment.
"I've got a case, if you're not too busy," Lestrade said.
"Sure, Sherlock just needs to change." Sherlock grumbled about being told what to do but went to change.
John stood on the balcony of their hotel room looking out at the busy streets of Paris below them. Sherlock was still asleep, sprawled naked across more than half of the bed. He wanted to let him sleep a bit longer before waking him up to tour the city.
"How long have you been up?" Sherlock asked when he joined John a few minutes later. Sherlock had thankfully remembered to put on a pair of pajama bottoms. He wrapped his arms around John and rested his chin in John's shoulder. Their wedding bands glinted in the early morning sun, drawing their attention to them for a moment.
"Not long, want to get ready and go get breakfast?" John asked. He turned around so he was facing Sherlock and wrapped his arms around Sherlock.
"If we must. There are so many better things we could be doing that don't involve leaving the hotel room." John laughed and kissed Sherlock.
"We're married now, we have all the time in the world to do that later. Paris is not something we get to see everyday." Sherlock rolled his eyes but went to get ready for the day.
Sure they were married, but some things never changed. Luckily, they did. Who knew that a few minutes of passion in an alley could turn into something so wonderful?
The End
A/N: So I always used to say that if I was famous I'd mess with the paparazzi by wearing an engagement ring and then later I'd not wear it, things like that to really stump them...that's how I came up with the end bit. Hope you liked it, until next time!