Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Sherlock Holmes or any recognizable character and am not making any profit by using them.
Enjoy!
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First Kiss (John's POV)
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John hesitates for only the shortest of seconds; he knows that this will change everything that has been so far. Yet he can´t seem to stop himself, he wants this so much and it feels as though he has forever been wanting it.
With one long step he closes the distance between them and grabs hold of Sherlock´s coat, pulling him close until their bodies are touching.
John´s heart is racing, and for another second he is scared by what he´s just done, scared that it was the wrong thing to do and will send Sherlock running into the opposite direction, but the detective´s expression suddenly softens, and inexplicably, famously, John feels Sherlock´s arms around his back, his hands on his shoulders, tentative and gentle and a little restless. Yet there is nothing frantic about it all, and John suddenly feels calm; with a deep sigh, he turns his face further upwards until his skin meets Sherlock´s.
They simply, tenderly, nuzzle their faces together, inhaling the other´s scent. It feels like home, John thinks. It´s where he wants to be, close to Sherlock, having him safe and warm in his arms. He can´t bear the thought of anyone hurting him, or touching him for that matter. He is overwhelmed by a sudden onslaught of jealousy and possessiveness that is new to him, but then, he has never felt this way.
Pulling back a little, his eyes roam Sherlock´s face, taking in every detail and finding that he knows it already, that the landscape in front of him is as familiar as his own features. And he loves everything about it.
"May I kiss you," he says quietly, only partly making it sound like a question.
Sherlock´s eyes (I could drown in them, John thinks) widen a fraction before he breathes a reply: "You don´t have to ask."
Even though his deep voice is low, it seems to reverberate through John´s chest, redirecting his attention to his still erratically beating heart for a second. He briefly pauses, trembling; his hand finds Sherlock´s face, his fingers caressing the warm, pale skin (so soft), and he can´t but marvel at the beauty of it all, of Sherlock ever so minutely shuddering at being touched like that, closing his eyes for the shortest of seconds- of this moment and their togetherness, for goodness´ sake, before they kiss.
It´s tender and soft and amazingly, purely Sherlock, the way he feels and the way he tastes, and it´s really all John´s ever wanted.
Unhurriedly, they take their time, exploring, allowing themselves to be overwhelmed. They´re both new to this, after all.
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Fin
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