Fatal Attraction
Sherlock Holmes was a man of different tastes, he, unlike many of the men around him hated people acting stupid. How men could find women cute when they didn't even know the periodic table was a complete mystery to him. The only person that Sherlock could stand intellectually was John Watson. John was what Sherlock called Clever-ish, he wasn't stupid but he could never match Sherlock's ability to know practically everything, still he was helpful. Maybe this was why Sherlock was somewhat attracted to him. It did make sense, John was the only human that could stand living with him, which was just fine. Sherlock wouldn't have it any other way.
But Sherlock hadn't always harboured feeling for John, no, it had all started at the pool. Moriarty had threatened John's life, he was strapped to a bomb with a sniper pointed at his chest. John's face gave away no fear, it was his voice and eyes that gave it away. His voice became a hushed whisper and his eyes were pleading, almost begging for Sherlock to save him. Sherlock would never admit this but it had, to put it in terms that most people used, almost broken his heart when he saw John for the first time. But he was sure that his heart had shattered when he thought John was the enemy. This gave Sherlock no choice, so he put on a façade and fought Moriarty, who made his escape at the last second.
As soon as Sherlock was sure Jim was gone he ran over to John and ripped off the coat and the bombs. John had seemed surprised at Sherlock's urgency with him, it was like he didn't want John hurt. And the way Sherlock had just given the Missile plans to keep John safe, it was like nothing mattered, like all Sherlock wanted was John safe and sound. John was sure he felt his heart warm slightly but he shook it away, Sherlock didn't feel or have feelings like that, why would John change that? But when John looked in Sherlock's eyes when they were laughing he was sure he saw relief, They were okay.
Sherlock hadn't questioned Moriarty till now, in truth Sherlock thought that Jim was gone, he was far from right. The man was so changeable he came racing back to threaten them again. He gave them a choice, Sherlock glanced at John who nodded. John chose death and if John died so would Sherlock.
The sound that they both heard next saved them, a ring tone, Staying Alive, how ironic in their current situation. The tension that had built in the room disappear and Jim sauntered away, a better offer in sight obviously. Sherlock couldn't actually believe that they were alive, it was a blessing in the form of police sirens and Lestrade handing them matching orange shock blankets.
Sherlock took his without a word to the D.I. and leaned against one of the many police cars that surrounded the area. He met John's eyes and noticed they were glassy and with no indication John threw his arms around Sherlock and held on tight. The gravity of the situation had finally hit him. They had nearly died. Him and Sherlock nearly died together. That thought alone made him want to hug Sherlock and never let go.
For Sherlock this was heaven, pure heaven. He didn't feel guilty at all when John began sobbing. John clutched Sherlock's coat and moved one of his hands, that had been around Sherlock's waist, to his hair. John found himself muttering.
'I can't believe I almost lost you. You Sherlock, of all people. I never want to feel like that ever again. So just so you know, I'm just going to hold you for a while.'
Now Sherlock didn't know what to do, John was clinging to him like a life raft. Should he hug him back?
John did seem in need of a hug, but it was confusing. So he did, it was an awkward first hug between the two. It was basically Sherlock holding the sobbing army doctor in his arms, trying to look like he wasn't enjoying himself. This was going to be a long night.