John and Sherlock were running through the streets of London, chasing after a big drug dealer who was riding in a black Jaguar. John's thoughts went back to the day he arrived at Baker Street. It was the second time he met Sherlock and already he was chasing someone with him. Sherlock mapped the streets of London in his head and they managed to catch up with the cab quickly. John knew the city well but Sherlock knew almost every street and every sign.
He had been living with Sherlock for over a year now and the other man still managed to surprise and to amaze him. Life was so much more colorful and exciting with Sherlock.
It didn't take long for Sherlock to deduce who was the man standing behind the big drug corporation that Lestrade called him to help with, and now all that was left to do was to catch the guy. Left, right, left, jump over this roof top, run through this house's garden, left and bam, they caught up with the black Jaguar in a side street that was quite deserted.
Sherlock jumped on the hood of the car and the driver braked in surprise. While he was still in shock, Sherlock climbed off the hood and went to the back, where the drug dealer was sitting. He opened the door and jumped in.
John picked up his pace. Sherlock was not wearing a gun; the man had no consideration for his own safety and would jump into dangerous situations without thinking about it much. John was always there, watching his back, trying to prevent him from getting shot or stabbed.
He reached the car, opened the door and climbed into the front seat. Sherlock was fighting the drug dealer while the driver was trying to take a hold of him, and he was starting to give in.
John grabbed the driver and started fighting with him. He gave him a precise blow to the head and knocked him out, then stepped out of the car and went to the door opposite from where Sherlock had climbed in. In his efforts to take control over Sherlock, the drug dealer had managed to tear Sherlock's shirt down to his lower abdomen. John got into the car and grabbed the drug dealer by his arms, holding them tightly behind his back. Now freed of the man's grip, Sherlock hit him on the head and managed to knock him out as well.
Sherlock and John both panted heavily. "Thank you, John," Sherlock said once his breathing calmed down a bit. He looked down at his shirt and saw what the man now lying unconscious between them had done to it. "Oh damn." He started ripping it the rest of the way down his stomach and then took it off his shoulders.
"Would you mind lending me your jacket, John?" John didn't respond. After Sherlock finished taking his shirt off and threw it on the car seat, he looked up at the other man. John was staring at him, his mouth agape, his pupils dilated.
Sherlock was sweaty, panting, his hair sticking to his forehead, his face flushed. It was a bit too much for John.
Sherlock smiled to himself. "John?"
"Ah? What? Sorry, what were you saying?"
"Can I borrow your jacket?"
"Oh, yes, of course," John said and started taking off his jacket, his cheeks turning red.
Sherlock chuckled to himself and took the offered piece of clothing. "Thank you," he said with a smile. He put the jacket on, deliberately taking his time and stretching across the seat as much as possible.
John swallowed and reached with his hand to wipe the sweat off his brow. "You bastard."
Sherlock looked at him with a smug smile on his face. They heard the police cars arriving and they stepped out of the car to wait for them. John looked at Sherlock as Lestrade walked towards them; the jacket was small on him and he stretched it as much as possible. Still, a line of his waist was visible. John did all not to lick his lips.
"What happened to you boys?" Lestrade eyed them suspiciously.
"The damned drug dealer tore my shirt. He and the driver are both unconscious inside the car. Do your thing."
Lestrade rolled his eyes at Sherlock but then smiled. "Thank you boys." He walked over to the car, calling some more officers to join him. Meanwhile, John started walking towards the main street.
"John, where are you going?" Sherlock asked.
"To catch a cab."
"Woh, woh, I still need you boys." Lestrade called behind him.
John turned around, "Tomorrow, Lestrade. You don't expect Sherlock to stay here like this in the cold now, do you? We will come to the Yard in the morning. Sherlock, come."
Sherlock shrugged at Lestrade and followed John.
"What is the rush, John?" He said when he reached the doctor.
"You know I have a weakness for cars. The Jaguar is one of my favorites. And I have a weakness for you shirtless. And you shirtless in a Jaguar is just too much." A cab stopped in front of them. "221b Baker Street," John told the driver.
He stepped into the cab and Sherlock followed him, smiling to himself.
The moment they entered the apartment, John started taking his jacket off Sherlock's body. He kissed Sherlock hard on the mouth and Sherlock kissed him back with the same intensity. They exchanged sloppy and rough kisses while John took the jacket off Sherlock and threw it on floor.
"I would have fucked you right then and there in the Jaguar if those unconscious men weren't lying in it and the police weren't on their way," he said between kisses. Sherlock laughed and grabbed John's waist, drawing him closer. He started pulling John's shirt out from inside his trousers and stroked the skin he exposed with his long fingers. He then pulled John's jumper and shirt over his head and threw them on the floor.
John pushed his hips forward, his groin pressing against Sherlock's, which earned him a moan from the detective.
"Mmm," he mumbled before planting a kiss on Sherlock's lips. "I love it when you make those kinds of sounds."
Sherlock stroked John's sides and stomach, leaving soft kisses on his jaw line. He lowered himself and started kissing down John's chest. He laid soft kisses on John's nipples and John threw his head back, moaning. Sherlock bit his left nipple.
"Oh, you bastard," John breathed. He lifted Sherlock's head and kissed him hungrily. Sherlock started working on John's trousers, opening the button and zipper as fast as he could. He shoved his hand down John's pants and the other man groaned as he cupped his erection. He started moving his hand and John shot his head back again. Sherlock attacked his exposed neck which looked so beautiful and inviting under the dim light of the hall.
John grabbed Sherlock's hair tightly while thrusting into his hand and groaning. There was no way they would make it upstairs; John wanted him there and then. He let go of Sherlock's hair and went to open the button on his trousers while the other man was still working steadily on his erection.
"Fuck." John bit his bottom lip. After a while he managed to open the button on Sherlock's trousers and unzip them.
"You are so beautiful," John whispered and started nibbling on Sherlock's neck. He grabbed Sherlock by his waist and moved him closer to himself. Their cocks brushed against each other as John kissed him. Sherlock breathed hard into John's mouth and picked up the pace of his hand. John pinned him to the wall and started biting and sucking his neck and shoulder blade.
After having dried up from the chase, they were heavily sweating again, their clothes clinging to their bodies. John was thinking of the bath they would be taking afterwards and smiled to himself. He bite down hard into Sherlock's neck and the other man's surprised gasp quickly turned into a moan. He grabbed John's waist with his unoccupied hand and sunk his fingers into John's skin as he picked up his pace.
John kissed and licked over the bruised skin and held on tight to Sherlock as he felt he was nearing his climax. He reached down with one of hand and took Sherlock's cock into his hold. He started moving his hand up and down, at first slowly but then matching Sherlock's pace.
"Fuck. Yes. Yes, John. Keep going. Yes." Sherlock breathed hard, his head leaning on the wall. "I know someone who owns a car rental agency. I got him out of prison once," he said between heavy breathes, "I bet he has Jaguars as well. Maybe he can arrange something for me."
John let out a loud moan, the thought driving him wild. He grabbed Sherlock by his neck and started leaving wet kisses on his chest. After a few more moments, John came in Sherlock's hand, shouting his name in his release. His hand stopped moving on Sherlock's cock and he rested his head upon Sherlock's chest. When he regained his breath, he resumed his movement, laying wet kisses on Sherlock's neck and face.
It didn't take long for Sherlock to follow suit, releasing himself in John's hand. He rested his head on the wall again and drove on the waves of his orgasm as John stroked the hair at the back of his neck.
When Sherlock's breathing calmed down, John lifted his head and planted a soft kiss on his lips. "That was brilliant." He smiled at the detective.
Sherlock stroked John's cheek with his fingers and pulled him closer. "It bloody well was," he said close to John's ear. John kissed him again and bent down to pick up their clothes.
"Meet you in the shower in a minute," he said as he walked towards their bedroom to put the clothes there. Sherlock smiled to himself and stepped away from the wall. He headed over to the bathroom, taking the rest of his clothes off on his way.