Alleyway

A\N- SAVING ME IS OUT IN CASE YOU DIDN'T KNOW.

Anyway. I got this idea from a comic. Also, I found some random prompt: "John and Sherlock find themselves in a confined space during a case and stuff happens."

Warning: very slight sexual themes, language, and a completely "oblivious" Sherlock.

ALSO I AM SO SORRY BUT I DIDNT REALIZE THAT SILENCE WAS SCREWED UP. I FIXED IT IF YOU WANT TO GO AND READ IT AGAIN. IT MAKES SENSE NOW.


John could hear Sherlock's heartbeat.

It was fast, pounding against his chest, but most likely from adrenaline. John's head was forced against him, the brick walls against their backs not allowing much room for the tight alleyway. His heart was beating just as fast. But it wasn't from the escape.

"I think we're clear." Sherlock mumbled, voice low and deep and right into John's ear. His hot breath swam against his neck and he shivered, trying as hard as he could to block all inappropriate thoughts of his best friend.

"Good." John breathed, looking up at the pale man towering over him. Sherlock's face was already within close proximity, but suddenly he was leaning closer, forearms braced against the brick on either side of John's head. Blushing profusely, John turned it sideways, clenching his eyelids shut. No. You don't want him to kiss you. Or snog you senseless. Or fuck you so hard you won't be able to remember your own- shit. StopstopSTOP. "Sh-Sherlock, what're you-"

"Observing, John. Observing. Are you quite alright? Your face is red and you're breathing heavily." John dared to take a peak at him. He honestly looked curious, like a child not knowing that they're doing any wrong. But for all he knew it was an act. Sherlock was a genius, after all. John sighed heavily, attempting to halt the sudden blood flow to his groin.

"I-I'm f-fine. The running w-wore me out is all." Sherlock snatched one of John's hands that remained by his side to check his pulse, brushing against his thigh on accident. Or possibly on purpose. John half-way stifled a moan as he lost control of himself. The blush exploding across his face, he prayed that Sherlock wouldn't react badly. He looked down, wanting to avoid his beautiful, piercing eyes.

"You brought your gun?" Sherlock inquired innocently. John would've laughed if it wasn't him that owned the erection. "N-no."

And then everything clicked for Sherlock.

"...oh."


A/N- considering a sequel. Don't count on it. But if you want to read a continuation of this just tell me. I'll think about it.