WARNING: Here comes the reason why the story is rated M and not T. I hope you know what that implies, my little Johnlock shippers. So, all I can say is, is that if you don't like it, don't read it. Simple enough. Just to be fair, I will mark the beginning and end with a ;) for those who do not want to read smut, but still want to know how the story ends. Alrighty then. Enjoy. :)
John and Moriarty both stared between the gun and the bomb and back to Sherlock. John was slightly terrified at what Sherlock might do. The next few seconds were agonizing before John heard a familiar bass echo through the pool. Sherlock looked around with a slightly confused expression on his face. Moriarty pulled out his mobile and groaned. John listened and noted the song Staying Alive by the Bee Gees. Oddly ironic ringtone for the situation.
"Do you mind if I get that?"
"Oh, no please. You've got the rest of your life." Sherlock said off-handedly, not once lowering the gun from its holding place.
John put his head against the wall behind him and listened as Moriarty chatted away on his mobile. John and Sherlock were then forced from their temporary comfort when the lunatic yelled.
"SAY THAT AGAIN."
John and Sherlock exchanged a glance and put their defenses up even higher than they already were.
"Say that again, and know that if you're lying to me, I will find you and I will skin you." Moriarty threatened, dragging the word 'skin' out a lot further than warranted.
Moriarty then walked back over to them and looked half dead, "Sorry, wrong day to die."
"Ah, did you get a better offer?" Sherlock asked with sarcasm dripping from his tongue.
"You'll be hearing from me, Sherlock. John." Moriarty droned as he walked away, putting the phone back to his ear, "If you have what you say you have, I will make you rich. If you don't, I will make you into shoes."
And with a snap of his fingers, Jim Moriarty was gone. John put one hand over his racing heart and one on Sherlock's shoulder.
"What just happened?"
"Someone changed his mind." Sherlock said as he lowered the gun, "We better get out before he changes it again."
John didn't have to be told twice before he grabbed Sherlock's hand and dragged them both out of the pool and into the road. Sherlock hailed a cab, climbed in, and pulled John tightly against him and he wasn't planning on letting go any time soon. After a few moments, Sherlock became fidgety and started maneuvering John around again. It seemed that Sherlock had forgotten, deleted, or simply didn't care that people had a right to personal space, because right then he put both arms around John's waist and practically pulled him into his lap. Sherlock closed his eyes and rested his head against John's chest.
"John, I'm sorry. The whole point in me going alone was to avoid putting you in danger. And look what that got you…"
Sherlock's arms tightened around him even more and John felt Sherlock's hand gripping his jacket.
"I realize that you were a soldier, and that was your job. But, John, I…I can't…live without you, John. I won't try."
John forgot all about the cabbie that was giving them the hairy-eyeball and turned to hold Sherlock. He knew that it was difficult for him to push through the nights happenings. Hell, it was a little too much for John to handle. John gently rubbed Sherlock's back and rested his lips against his forehead. When Sherlock finished speaking, John looked down at his detective and combed his fingers gently through those mad curls.
"Sherlock, you know I love you and I will die for you if need be. If that sniper hadn't aimed his gun at you, I wouldn't have let go. You have so much more to offer the world than I do. I would rather die than live one second without you next to me." John bent down a little and kissed Sherlock's lips, "You mean the world to me."
John almost didn't notice the cabbie clearing his throat, urging them to get out, that they were at their destination, that his shift had ended two minutes ago for God's sake. John groaned and paid the cabbie and pulled Sherlock with him into the flat and didn't bother with taking another step upstairs before turning around and planting a kiss on Sherlock's lips, this time not having to tiptoe to reach him.
"I love you. I love you. I love you." He whispered into Sherlock's lips.
Sherlock wrapped his arms around John tightly and pressed him against the wall and for every "I love you" he received, he returned an "I love you too" and a kiss. John tightened his grip around Sherlock, his physical need suddenly growing more urgent. He didn't know whether it was from the near-death experience and adrenaline rush or from it being put off for nearly three weeks, but John did know that he needed Sherlock tonight. John ran his hands up Sherlock's chest and into his messy hair as he kissed those beautiful lips fervently.
;)
Sherlock nipped at John's lips until his patience wore thin and shoved his tongue into John's mouth. This earned him a throaty moan from John, which urged Sherlock further to slide his hands down to John's hips and press their hips together, rolling his erection over John's. John breathed in sharply as he wrapped his arms around Sherlock's waist and wrestled his tongue against Sherlock's. Sherlock then pulled away and breathed heavily into the air.
"We might want to take this upstairs. Otherwise we may give Mrs. Hudson a heart attack." Sherlock whispered into John's ear.
"And your limbs in the crisper didn't?" John laughed, but not a second later, he was pulling Sherlock up the stairs and into their flat.
They'd barely made it in before Sherlock shut the door, locked it, and pressed John against the door. He pinned John's hands above his head and started kissing and biting at John's neck, leaving pretty little marks across the tender skin. John moaned under the pressure and shuddered as he latched his hands onto Sherlock's and exposed his neck before kicking up his leg and hooking it around Sherlock's waist, pushing the two of them closer.
This earned John a deep moan from Sherlock as the taller man's weight set against him and the door. Sherlock continued to nip and suck at John's neck before he trailed along his jaw and ghosted over John's lips. All the while, John was tightening his leg around his detective and pressed their hips together. John moaned only slightly at the feeling of Sherlock's "arousal" against his.
"Sher…Sherlock." John panted.
Sherlock was slowly loosening his grip on John's hands and let them fall as he wrapped his hand around the back of John's neck, carefully avoiding the still slightly bloodied knot that had formed back there.
"Hm?" was all he could really manage. He was a bit…preoccupied by something going on in their lower regions. This was causing him to struggle with forming a coherent thought, which annoyed Sherlock to no end.
John wrapped his arms around Sherlock's waist and lowered his leg, but kept their hips pressed together.
"Would you rather take this to the bedroom?" he whispered in a low growl. He wasn't called Three Continents Watson for nothing. John felt Sherlock shiver and he smiled cruelly against the man's lips.
"What would you deduce?" Sherlock asked, finally regaining his voice.
John was nearly shaking with anticipation as he grabbed Sherlock's hand and pulled him to the downstairs bedroom and pinned him to the bed. John took in all of Sherlock's body with his eyes and began undoing his clothes. Sherlock's heart rate shot as he tried to pull John's jumper off, but was unsuccessful with his horribly shaking fingers. Sherlock silently cursed himself and let his hands fall to the side and let John strip him down to his pants. Looking at Sherlock's flushed face, John stripped himself down to the same state and planted a hand on either side of Sherlock's head and looked down at him. Sherlock could see the clear hunger reflected in John's dilated pupils.
Even before John had undressed him, Sherlock had felt naked under the doctor's gaze. Now it seemed like every scar, blemish, and imperfection were prominently on display for his love. Sherlock closed his eyes and fought against the want to move John away and cover his body. It wasn't as if John hadn't seen him nearly naked before. But that was usually in the name of science or a case. This was much more intimate and frankly, terrifying. Sherlock shivered under the scrutiny.
John lifted one of his hands and gently caressed Sherlock's face. The blank expression spoke volumes to John as he found every scar, every blemish, and every imperfection and kissed each one with lingering lips. Sherlock kept his eyes closed and breathed as steadily as he could under John's lips. In John's eyes scars and blemishes were not ugly or undesirable, but a memory with a story held in each one.
In his trek across Sherlock's body, John found three freckles leading down the man's side and John followed them down to his hip. When he came to the waist band, John bit it and pulled Sherlock's pants off, exposing him completely. John's breath caught in his chest as he was momentarily stunned by Sherlock's body. He almost felt like he just needed permission to touch Sherlock. Almost.
Before Sherlock could react, John was on top of him again with his face so close to the newly exposed area. John glanced up at Sherlock - whose eyes had flown open in feeling John's hot breath against his skin – and seemed to ask for permission. Sherlock managed a nod and laid his head back against the pillow.
John let out a shuddering breath and closed his eyes. He'd never done this before, so he just imagined how he would have wanted it done to him. Gathering up his courage, John left no time for rethinking and pressed his lips around Sherlock's head. Sherlock gasped out against the pressure and fisted the sheets in his hands. John paused for a moment before slipping his lips over the head and descended his mouth quickly down the shaft.
Sherlock was in a state of euphoria. He'd never felt anything like this before. The sheets were tightened in his grasp as he let out a small moan.
"J…John." Sherlock breathed out.
"Yes…?" John let go and looked up at Sherlock.
Sherlock sat up enough to reach for the night stand and picked up a small bottle. He pressed the lubricant into John's hand and looked into John's face. He knew his was bright red from what would have been an epic blow-job and the uncharacteristic embarrassment he felt. He was almost afraid to ask this of John. Sherlock didn't mind what they had been doing; he loved what they had been doing. But this…this was something intimate and personal and he wanted it, but needed to make sure that John wanted it as well.
John's hands slightly trembled as he took the bottle. It was smooth and cool in his hand. He looked up at Sherlock and knew his face was just as red as Sherlock's was. He gently placed a hand on Sherlock's hip and kissed the skin there.
"Are you sure?" he asked quietly, "Because we can wait if you're more comfortable. I don't want to rush you."
John held the bottle firmly in his hand. He wanted to do it. Oh, he wanted to do Sherlock more than anything else at the moment, but he needed to make sure that Sherlock was completely ready. John didn't want to hurt Sherlock's feelings or pride; because they wouldn't be the only things hurting. Sherlock put his hand on John's chest – right over his heart. He closed his eyes and felt the quick rhythm under his fingers.
"I need you. I need this." He ran his hand down John's chest then around his back, "Please."
John wrapped his arms around Sherlock and kissed his lips, "As you wish."
John sat up and opened the bottle's lid. New. After squirting out the lubricant onto his fingers, John warmed it up by running his fingers together in soft motions.
"It's going to hurt a little, so just relax. Ok?"
John kissed down Sherlock's faint happy trail and moved to his destination. He then kissed Sherlock's bony hip as he spread the detective's legs and ran his fingers methodically over the entrance before slipping one finger in. Sherlock found it hard to keep calm, but he managed. He kept himself from jumping when he felt John's finger slide in. It didn't necessarily hurt, but it wasn't extremely comfortable. After a couple of minutes, John noticed Sherlock's nod as a signal to slide another finger in.
Sherlock let out a quiet moan as John reached his free hand up and caressed the back of Sherlock's neck and rubbed soothing circles around the tense muscles there. After a soft kiss to Sherlock's hip, John lightly licked up the detective's happy trail while moved his fingers languidly.
John breathed in sharply when he felt Sherlock arch his back off of the bed with a moan when John brushed against his prostate. John looked down at Sherlock, not surprised to see the sheets clinched in his long hands.
"Do…do that again." Sherlock breathed out.
John almost didn't understand Sherlock's request, but the realization flashed across his mind a moment later. John slid his arm down from Sherlock's head and perched up on it give himself some support as he pushed his fingers a little deeper to find the detective's prostate. John could feel his body reacting to Sherlock's and he felt as if every nerve ending was vibrating and he could hear the rush of his blood in his ears.
Sherlock was gripping the sheets in earnest and biting his lips to refrain from making any embarrassing sounds. He was trying to hold on, but his control was slipping from his fingers. His and John's escapade would be cut short if this kept going.
"Stop. John, stop." Sherlock breathed out with a slight crack in his voice.
"Are you alright?" John asked as he pulled his fingers out slowly, "Did I hurt you?"
That thought terrified him more than anything.
"No, I was…" Sherlock leveled his breathing and flushed a little, "I just needed a moment."
It finally occurred to John that maybe they had been moving too fast for their first time. John knew he had no trouble with it, but he had to force Three Continents Watson to stop back and allow Dr. Watson to assess the situation. John held the back of Sherlock's head and placed a tender kiss on his lips.
"We can slow down if you want. There's no rush." John kissed Sherlock's neck, "It's alright."
"No, I just needed to…calm down for a minute."
Sherlock loosened his hold on the sheets and put his arms around John and let out a soft laugh.
"Things were about to be cut short."
John blushed and kissed Sherlock's chest.
"Sorry," he said quietly, "we'll go a little slower."
John waited a few moments before sliding down Sherlock's body again and kissed the alabaster skin on the way down. When he finally reached his destination, he asked no questions and resumed his work with two fingers rather than one. Sherlock was almost sorry for the loss of contact, but that was quickly erased when John's lips met his skin. He breathed in sharply as he felt John work to stretch him.
"John." He called out steadily, to avoid concerning John again. He found John's hand that wasn't occupied at the moment and John entwined their fingers together.
"Yes?" John replied huskily while debating whether to insert a third finger. He kissed Sherlock's skin again and held his gaze.
Sherlock squeezed John's hand and nodded, mostly to himself. He didn't know how to put this tactfully, so he decided with direct. (As if there was anything but direct statements.)
"I'm ready." He said quietly, locking his eyes on John.
John cupped Sherlock's neck and brought a kiss to his lips while he slid a third finger in and began to pick up speed, though still moving slowly. John tried to keep himself in check, but he shook with anticipation. He needed Sherlock, needed to be inside him. Once he felt Sherlock open up, John moved onto his knees after slicking himself with lube and tilted Sherlock's hips up for a better reach. With a soft squeeze to Sherlock's hand, John lined himself up and eased himself in.
Sherlock closed his eyes and moaned in a loud, strained baritone. It hurt. It hurt a lot worse than he imagined, but he didn't want to stop. Instead, he held onto John's hand, focused on breathing again, and focused on John. John held Sherlock's hand firmly in his and placed a kiss on his knuckles. After his detective finally relaxed, John started moving his hips slowly and let a small moan escape. Sherlock let out a low moan in response and tilted his hips a little higher. Sherlock grabbed John's neck, pulled him down and kissed him hard while meeting his thrusts.
John was unabashedly breathing out at this point as he started to pick up speed. He experimentally twisted his hips at different angles, hoping to meet Sherlock's prostate every other thrust. From the moans he heard, he considered himself to be doing a good job. John returned Sherlock's kiss hungrily and slid one hand to the detective's hard and dripping cock.
Sherlock broke from the kiss and bit down on John's shoulder and sucked at the skin hard. He breathed shakily and it was by sheer force of will that he didn't come right then and there. John groaned and hissed under the pressure and breathed out as he picked up the pace. Sherlock pulled his head back and examined the love-bite. He didn't break the skin, but there would be a pretty mark there in the morning.
After blinking his eyes a couple of times and clearing the stars away, John continued to thrust into Sherlock. Harder, faster, more powerful. He drove forward and rubbed Sherlock in time with each of his thrusts.
"John," Sherlock moaned loudly, "John!"
Sherlock arched into John's touch and after a few more strokes and thrusts, Sherlock came into John's hand with a stifled cry as he bit down on John's collar. Sherlock fell back and breathed heavily, still moaning as John thrust into him. John was completely undone by the sight. Two thrusts later and he felt himself pour into Sherlock, his body shaking with the impact of the orgasm. He could barely breathe as his sight sharpened once more and he slowly slid out of Sherlock and fell down beside him.
;)
When his breathing returned to normal, Sherlock turned on his side to John and ran his fingers over his slightly sweat dampened hair. John breathed heavily and half smiled. After raising his hand to Sherlock's soft cheek and stroking his beautiful cheekbone, John leaned forward and kissed Sherlock softly.
"How…how was that?" he asked, suddenly a little self-conscious.
"Surely you don't need me to answer that question," Sherlock said, sitting up a little to look at John, "you being a reasonably intelligent man, I'd suspect you knew. But, I will explain if I must."
Sherlock held John around his shoulders and spoke in low tones.
"That was amazing, extraordinary, wonderful, brilliant, and fantastic." Sherlock said, mimicking John's praises for his deductions.
Afterwards, Sherlock pulled John in for a soft and languid kiss.
"Oh, and I love you, John."
John smiled against Sherlock's lips and melded into the kiss.
"I love you too, Sherlock. I love you so much." John pulled Sherlock into his arms for a gentle embrace.
After he let go, John grabbed a flannel from the bedside table and cleaned himself and Sherlock off and kissed Sherlock's belly. After putting the cloth away, John laid back and pulled Sherlock into a close embrace.
"Sherlock?"
"Hm?" Sherlock responded while pulling the duvet over himself and John and snuggled in.
John ran his fingers through Sherlock's curls and rested his head against his loves.
"Sherlock, I need to know. Why do you love me? Why did you choose me of all people? I'm just…just John. What's so special about a retired army doctor?" John asked, Moriarty's words buzzing in his mind.
Sherlock nuzzled his face against John's neck and took a deep breath and kissed the soft skin there.
"You are all the things I never have been, John. Kind, loving, and caring. These were the things that I scoffed at. The things that I thought made people weak. The things that I thought I didn't need. I had the work, and that was enough. There was no one to try to get me to sleep after staying awake for days on end. No one cared if I went without food for long intervals and then forced me to eat 'just one damned plate' of food. I was just a freak."
Sherlock stopped for a moment and looked into John's watery eyes.
"And then you limped into my life with that ridiculous cane that you didn't need. And you became all of the things that I needed and more. You actually cared. No one ever had really cared. I still scoffed at first. I bit back at you for trying to mollycoddle me, but I never really meant a word of it."
There were tears in Sherlock's eyes now that matched John's.
"I was alone, John. I always had been, and I didn't think I needed anyone."
John accepted the hand that came to rest on his wet cheek and wipe the tears off.
"I needed you. You were everything I never knew I needed or wanted. You are everything I need and want. You are not just John. You are my John. My own John Watson."
John rested his hand on Sherlock's cheek and gently stroked the skin with his thumb. Each word that came out of Sherlock's mouth nearly brought a new tear to John's eye as he choked down his cries of love and sympathetic hurt. John then wrapped a strong arm around his Sherlock and brought him closer and enveloped him in a close embrace.
"Sherlock, do you realize how much you've changed my life?" John asked while pressing his face into Sherlock's hair.
Sherlock shook his head against John's neck and held on tightly. He almost felt as if he let go of John for even a second, John would disappear. None of this felt like it could be real. Like it could ever happen for someone like Sherlock Holmes. John held the back of Sherlock's head in one hand and wrapped his other arm around his back. After taking in a breath, John began.
"Sherlock, you deduced my life within seconds of meeting me. You knew almost everything. Just almost." John rubbed his fingers through Sherlock's curls, "What you didn't know was that I…I."
Words were failing him at the moment. How does someone tell the person they love about a terrifying part of their past? Would what he have to say put Sherlock off? There was only one way to find out, and that was to man up and just let it out already.
"Mike Stamford introduced us on a very important day."
Sherlock looked up at John and clued in, already trying to guess what kind of day.
"It was…the day that…I was going to kill myself."
Sherlock's face fell.
"I was broken, Sherlock. I'd lost most of my friends to the war. I almost lost my sister to alcohol completely. My old friends had moved on and most of them had forgotten me. I was left behind. I had no one in my quiet, dull life. It was too quiet. I was so alone. The day I met you, I thought you were a pompous arse, and a bit of a creeper. That's only partly true. But when you deduced me, I felt thrilled. It felt amazing to know that someone finally saw me. I needed – still need and want – you. No one is as quick or clever or as amazing as you. And you, my love, my genius, are not a freak. You gave me a second chance and you fixed me. I owe you so much." John kissed Sherlock, "I love you so much."
Sherlock let the tears escape his eyes as he kissed John's lips gently for a moment, and then buried his face in John's neck. Had he really helped John that much just by being himself? Everyone always told him not to be himself, but by doing that, he saved the man he loved. Maybe he wasn't as horrendous as everyone made him out to be.
"I love you too, John." Sherlock mumbled into John's skin.
John held Sherlock close and nuzzled his face into his hair. He could feel the grips of sleep playing with his eyes, but he wanted to stay awake and hold his Sherlock. He'd almost lost him that night and John wanted to touch him; feel his breath against his skin. John placed a gentle kiss to Sherlock's head and held him close. Sherlock gripped John and breathed in his scent. He'd come too close to losing him and the memory of John with a bomb strapped to his chest completely unnerved Sherlock. He shuddered and held John tighter.
"Don't go anywhere. Don't leave, John."
John kissed Sherlock's head firmly and tightened his grip, "I'm not going anywhere. Never."
And for the moment, that was enough for Sherlock; for the both of them. They had no idea where Moriarty was, or what he had planned. They didn't know who else would come after them, but it didn't matter. At that moment, they were safe in each other's arms. Everything else could wait.
Oh my goodness, guys! It's over! I just again want to thank those who read this story and made one writer very happy with your reviews and follows and sticking around until the end. I promise, 221bSuperPotterWhoLocked and I will be doing more stories/episodes and posting them on here; the Johnlock fun is not over! Again, thank you and I hope you had as much fun reading as 221bSPWL and I did writing. Much love to you guys! *hugs all around!*
