This bit is very slashy. I just couldn't resist, so you have been warned.
A Brief Moment of Solace
"No you won't!" Moriarty's voice called mockingly back to Sherlock through the open door in a squeaky manor, the consulting detective retaining his position of aiming the gun in Moriarty's direction. The old door clanged shut, Sherlock immediately moving to free his John. His slender hands moved across the small man's torso, pulling wires from sockets.
"Alright?"
John gave no reply, only sank his head back and sighed deeply.
"Are you alright?"
Please, John, answer me.
"Yeah...yeah. I'm fine. I'm fine, Sherlock. Sherlock!"
The dark-haired man whipped the doctor's coat off as quick as he possibly could, taking the explosives with it. Throwing it down the room away from them, Sherlock turned back to his companion. John sighed heavily, his legs suddenly crumbling beneath him, his eyes closing slowly. Sherlock launched forward to catch the man in his arms. The doctor's head flopped silently onto the other man's shoulder, his entire body becoming limp.
"John?...John!"
Sherlock tried his best to hold the man as best he could without injuring him. The pressure and utter fear of the past situation has proven to have been too much for the small man to handle. Judging from the way he was breathing, Sherlock deduced that John had collapsed from an increased heart rate and, possibly, exhaustion. The detective placed one of his large hands softly on the back of John's head, supporting his neck. Tilting his own head forward, Sherlock lightly kissed John's forehead, then lying the head on his chest, stroking the brown hair gracefully. Yes, he was willing to admit – in his own mind, anyway- that he did have a 'crush' on John; on the man lying so peacefully in his arms. Seeing John in danger had only confirmed Sherlock's emotions to himself: the large amount of fear and dread that had swept over him when the doctor opened the coat. Sherlock was drawn from his thoughts when a quiet voice spoke.
"...I'm glad no one saw that," John whispered.
"I'm sorry?"
"You...ripping my clothes off in a dark room then holding me in your arms and kissing my forehead...people might talk."
"Let them talk," Sherlock smiled, "they would have found out sooner or later anyway." With a final smile from Watson, Holmes leant in gently and kissed the doctor's forehead again. John looked up into sparkling blue eyes and sighed. So Sherlock was definitely gay then, all those hints of girls 'not being his area' and that the detective would be 'lost without his blogger' should've been proof enough for Watson. He now realised that this meant he was gay too, but what does that matter?
Sherlock placed his strong hands on John's weak forearms, helping the man stand up properly.
Pure solace, for a split second.
Suddenly, Moriarty's laugh rifled through their ears.
Looking at John's face, Sherlock's heart suddenly sank when his eyes locked onto the familiar red marker representing the aim of a gun on the small man's forehead, the same happening with John on Sherlock.
This battle was not yet over.
Aaah, only in my dreams would Sherlock and John actually kiss in a show or movie. Ah, well...fangirls can dream can't they? ;)
Review, please?
