Disclaimer: I still own nothing…...but I wish these men were all mine.
John followed Sherlock, keeping a steady distance between them. He did not want to get too close and cause Sherlock to change his mind. Sherlock soon came to a warehouse and stopped, standing as though waiting for something. When John settled himself against the side of a building nearby, Sherlock looked to where John was hidden and went inside. John knew he was meant to stay here, how he couldn't say, but he knew now was not yet the time. About an hour passed before John felt movement coming from the warehouse. Sherlock emerged, wearing what appeared to be some sort of Special Forces uniform. Damn, he looked sexy! John followed, his heart pounding in excitement, knowing they were finally going to be having some fun.
Sherlock led him to an area that was well known for drug activity. John's heart stopped beating. How could he be so bloody stupid! Was this Sherlock's secret? He was still using?! How could John have not noticed!? It was when his vision started blurring that John realized he was in tears. He started gasping for air, convinced that Sherlock had betrayed his faith in him, when a voice inside told him not to jump to conclusions. "Pay attention John; give him a chance to show you, to share with you!" John started calming down. It took him some time to relax enough to really pay attention. Suddenly, he saw Sherlock leaving with someone slung over his shoulder. For someone so skinny, he really was strong. John continued to follow Sherlock's shadow, his excitement returning.
When they arrived at their new destination, John was amazed at the unending supply of empty warehouses in London. That Sherlock knew of them was not a surprise, Sherlock knew where everything in the city was located along with the quickest route. He gave Sherlock time to do what he needed before interrupting him. He looked up at the sky, it was a rare clear night and the stars were shining. Finally, he entered the dark warehouse and followed the screams to where he needed to be.
Maybe John should have been surprised by the blood, maybe the serenity of the beautiful genius's face juxtaposed with the gore surrounding him should have repulsed him, but he knew he'd never seen anything so beautiful in his life. Sherlock covered in blood, slowly dissecting the creature suspended in front of him was hypnotizing. He briefly glanced at Sherlock's experiment and saw that it was still breathing. He was in awe of Sherlock's talent. To keep it alive up to this point was difficult; the shock alone could have killed it.
Two organs had already been removed from the body cavity and placed in plastic containers. John wondered if they had room in the refrigerator for Sherlock's newest acquisitions. A third was thrown behind the genius. He's obviously not interested in doing any experiments on a spleen. John wondered how many more organs Sherlock could remove before the body failed.
An hour later Sherlock was done and John had moved much closer to the genius. He didn't know when or why he started moving, but he couldn't seem to stop himself. Sherlock watched him approach from his seated position, keeping his head down, but not trying to move away. John only stopped when he was directly in front of Sherlock. He reached out and lifted his chin until he was looking into his unusual eyes. He could see the uncertainty Sherlock was trying to keep hidden. He really didn't seem know what John would do next. The vulnerability caused John's lungs to close, he couldn't breathe. No one had ever placed themselves so completely at his mercy, not willingly at least.
He straddled the taller man so they would be face to face. He could feel the blood saturating Sherlock's uniform start to seep into his clothing. He rubbed his cheek against Sherlock's covering himself completely in the blood before claiming his lips. He could taste the salty sweetness of the blood, tea and Sherlock. The combination was intoxicating. John licked and bit at Sherlock's lips, his arms around him, one gripping his neck and the other tangled in his curls. Sherlock's hands were gripping John's ass, pulling him closer so their cocks were thrusting together. John didn't even know he could make such high pitched noises until Sherlock pulled them from his throat. Sherlock's moans were like music to John's ears, John's name being said over and over in his smooth baritone. John wanted Sherlock naked, he wanted to touch him everywhere, but he knew they wouldn't last much longer. The excitement of the evening and the total exposure of both men was too much for either to take. This release was inevitable and necessary. They came together, each man screaming the other's name.
John face was tucked into Sherlock's neck as he caught his breath. Sherlock was nuzzling his ear. Finally John whispered into his neck, "Thank you Sherlock." Sherlock chuckled, "I think your gratitude is a little premature doctor. I have a change of clothing. Have you ever tried to travel across the city in the nude?"
John shot up, "Sherlock if you don't loan me your coat I will never forgive you!"
"Oh come on John, we can make an experiment of it, see how far we would get before Mycroft took pity and intervened."
"Sherlock!"
"Fine, fine, I'll loan you my scarf."