Author's Note: Again, I am reuploading this work from my other account on archiveofourown so don't worry if you stumbled upon it there. Also, I'm posting a chapter per day so enjoy
Sherlock knew right at the moment he figured that it was John who shot the cabbie, that he was different; that he was special. Somehow, John isn't among the boring, tediously stupid lot that has covered the face of the Earth. Somehow, he and John were two very different people that intersect with each other. He decided to make a Venn diagram of the new data in his mind palace.
He feels this pull towards John that he can't explain. So after the case of the murderous cabbie, Sherlock decided to give in to his instincts and ask John out to dinner. He turned around to see John already looking at him and he felt his heart skip so many beats he's afraid he's going to drop dead just by looking at him. He took a deep breath, "dinner?"
"Starving," John gave Sherlock his award winning smile and he swore he could've felt himself slowly falling for this man and his hideous jumpers. So he smiled back.
"Sherlock!" said the Italian beta, warmly, "anything, on the house for you and for your date!"
He smiled broadly while handing over the menus and left to let us decide what we were going to eat. "So I'm your date?" prompted John.
"Sorry, what was that?"
Sherlock looked confused and the expression didn't suit the detective but it was extremely adorable that john couldn't help but smile, "I was asking if this was a date"
It was silent for quite some time and he thought the conversation was over until Sherlock finally decided to answer, "…if you want it to be"
After their meals arrived, John couldn't stop it but he had to smell Sherlock's scent again. It's becoming highly addictive that it's boarding on alarming but it's not. He feels safe and comfortable around Sherlock. He loves how passionate Sherlock is about his work, how amazing his deductions are and how downright gorgeous he is.
John inhaled Sherlock's alpha scent from across the table and this action doesn't escape Sherlock's attention. He isthe most observant man on Earth.
"Do I really smell that good to you?" Sherlock interrupted.
John's eyes snapped open and he blushed of embarrassment at being caught, he didn't even realise he had his eyes closed during the process.
John looked at Sherlock with undying attraction and affection. Not to mention sexual frustration, mind you. He wet his lips by darting out his tongue and swiping it over his lower lip slowly, tantalising Sherlock with its very suggestive meaning behind the action.
They silently continued their tennis-match of sexual torment, having this unmentioned mutual agreement. Sherlock would occasionally lean back into his chair to show off his torso, teasing it even more with the fact that the buttons should be flying off across the room by now. And John would slowly suck in his portion of the pasta that he was having for dinner while looking seductively at Sherlock. He might as well be screaming to the world that he gives great head.
Clouded by the passion in the air, John couldn't help but let out a moan when Sherlock unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt. The moan didn't escape from under Sherlock's attentive observations. The sound of John's moan sent an electric impulse straight to Sherlock's groin. Suddenly, without warning, Sherlock felt something soft slowly gliding up his calf and the look of mischief on John's face just says everything.
John was caressing Sherlock's leg with his foot slowly. By the feel of it, he had toed off his shoe just to let Sherlock get a small glimpse of what he was missing out on. The look of hunger on John's face is heated and desperate. It does things to Sherlock that he wouldn't even dream could happen to him. He felt himself get harder with every ticking second. His pants getting uncomfortably tight around his groin, he shifted in his seat.
"J-john," Sherlock gasped when his foot reached his hardened cock.
John licked his lips again, and God help him because he couldn't handle it anymore. Sherlock sprang out of his chair and trapped John in his, with both his arms on the sides of the chair while his legs are on either side of John's thighs. He leaned down and licked John's earlobe, sucking it a bit and nibbling once in a while. He gave in to his Alpha hormones.
"Come home with me," whispered Sherlock seductively into his ear, his voice dropping an octave. It sent shivers down John's spine and he was only able to let out a small whimper.
John could feel his arse beginning to wet with its lubrication and his dick hard as rock. He needed some form of release, so he rutted his cock to Sherlock's and they both moaned in pleasure, not caring the other people in the restaurant. Sherlock licked the delicious part of John's neck where all his sweet omega hormones are excreted. Their breaths shallow and fast, forced to become pants of need.
"We- oh God…" John was cut off when Sherlock bucked his hips to John's and they were both the picture of a mess, "We can't do this here. Let's go to your place."
And just like that, Sherlock pulled them both out of the Italian restaurant and into a cab in less than a minute. He continued to devour John's neck as soon as the cab door closed, licking wet stripes. Hot breaths hitting each other's faces, Sherlock turned around to look at the cabbie, "221B Baker Street!" and they slammed their mouths together, immediately darting out their tongues to taste.
It was frantic with clothes half opened and all. When they reached Sherlock's flat, he threw some bills toward the cabbie's direction and pulled John through the door without breaking their mouth contact. John could feel Sherlock's strong grip on his hips, pulling their hard dicks together, seeking more friction. They made their way across the cluttered living room to Sherlock's bedroom, shedding most their clothes on the way there, only leaving behind their pants intact. John in his unexpectedly bright red pants while Sherlock in his black designer ones. Sherlock slammed John against the door of his bedroom while running his hands across John's body, feeling the rough skin under his palms. He slipped a hand into John's pants to cup his lush arse tenderly. John's hole was leaking with the pure need to be filled, he could feel the slide of his cheeks against each other. He was gasping when Sherlock slipped in a finger inside him, stretching his tight little hole.
"Do you like that?" he breathed into John's ear, "Do you like my finger in your wet omega arse?" That was the last thing that John's sane mind could process before he became a begging mess, and he sure as fuck wasn't ashamed of it.