[ Somewhere in the back of his mind, John is vaguely aware there is a mobile going off. But just like in a dream, when the sound of an alarm or someone talking to you into reality makes it way into your dream, he's stubbornly trying not to let this kiss be interrupted. The way Sherlock's arms are holding him so closely and their lips are moving against each other feels much too good just to stop. He can't believe how much a grown man at his age feels like a hormone-driven teenager right now. When the man beneath him makes that decision and pulls away, John very nearly whimpers in protest. Instead, he does the much more 'manly' thing and groans in equal frustration. ]
I'm thinking 'unimportant' would be very good about now. [ John decides hopefully, a wry little smirk pulling at the corners of his lips as he props himself up just a bit on his elbows, without pulling himself away from the very comfortable position atop of Sherlock. A frown is already lining his face as he watches the other read the text, and he sighs when his fears are confirmed.]
You're joking. [ His voice is flat, but he knows enough to know Sherlock is not 'yankin his chain.' Much as they were both enjoying this, he really doubts the other would be that cruel. Not like this. Heaving a sigh this time, he falls back against his flatmate, laying his cheek briefly on his chest, nuzzled beneath Sherlock's chin. For a moment, he enjoys hearing the detective's still quickened heartbeat beneath that warm, pale skin. ]
Not that a case isn't good, of course... and Lestrade wouldn't be asking for you if he didn't really need you. So its probably something highly unusual and right up your alley. [ A beat. He's really trying to convince himself they had better go. ] Probably dangerous too...
[Sherlock for once wishes he didn't have to be called in on this one considering he was already in the middle of a very important experiment that could certainly do without being interrupted. He keeps a hand on the back of John's neck even as he grabs for the phone, not wanting him to go anywhere just yet.
He can't help but agree with John's hope that it's unimportant, though he'd still be miffed about halting this to read a pointless text message. No such luck, of course, because the text is from Lestrade about a new case. He sighs again and shakes his head when John says he's joking.
He sets aside the mobile and tries to muster the energy to get up until John lays his head on his chest like that. His hand finds his hair to stroke it softly, happy to stay like this for now.]
It would be better if it were to come about a few hours later. [It really did seem unfair that he finally experiments with physical affection only to have it interrupted. John's words were true, and it irritated him just how true they were because that would mean leaving this. He hugs John tighter against him, nuzzling his hair and appearing not to want John to get up even though he probably should.]
We'll...pick up on this later, correct? [He asks, hoping John wouldn't be discouraged from trying this again when they had the time. He really really would rather continue now, but it seemed the criminal classes had other plans.]
[ Those fingers stroking his hair, combined with the warmth of Sherlock's body and the beating of his heart all make John a very relaxed man. At least, he's on his way to becoming very relaxed. Unfortunately, what could have been a lovely day spent exploring this new facet of their relationship is marred by the very real murder case. Lestrade was waiting for them. For now, this had to end.
As those arms tighten around him and he hears the detective's words, it suddenly hits John that this is what's most important - not his job at the clinic, not even the cases themselves sometimes, but just this incredible man. He knows the detective would grow terrible bored of a 'domestic life,' but he suddenly muses that just spending a few days, or even a week inside, in bed even, with Sherlock Holmes, would not be a minute wasted. John tenderly presses his lips to Sherlock's breast, just above the previous heart he knows is there, both literally and figuratively, before raising his head to catch that gaze. ]
We absolutely will pick up on this later. [ He grinned crookedly, before leaning over to press his lips against the other man's. The kiss lasts a bit longer than he'd meant it to, but then, this is all still so very new. Its like a new addiction, and he can't help wanting more, even knowing that right now, it won't be enough. With a quiet sigh, he breaks away, looks into those vivid eyes for a heartbeat or two longer... then forces himself up and off Sherlock. Pulling his shirt back on, he starts to button it back up. ]
[It's really taking all of Sherlock's will to just get up, wanting to stay right here under John for as long as possible. He hated getting torn away from something that was going so well so far, and he wanted nothing more than to say 'sod it' and just stay here, or even relocate to one of their bedrooms. He knew he was well on his way to becoming domesticated in thanks to this, but then, their life is already pretty domestic. This really was the next logical step, because this assured that John would never be more than arm's reach away. Sherlock could certainly get used to that.
He manages a slight quirk of a smile when John kisses his chest, forgetting for just a moment that they needed to leave in favor of just enjoying stroking his hair in return. His smile widens when John assures him that they would be starting this up again later. He strokes the back of his neck and all too happily returns the kiss, glad that John let his lips linger for a few extra moments.
He sighs along with John when he pulls back, meeting John's gaze and wishing he didn't have to get up. He pushes a hand through his hair irritably, sitting up and buttoning up his own shirt as he watches longingly as John does the same, annoyed that he wouldn't be able to continue the study of his form until later.]
In the back alley of a nightclub in the Whitechapel district. [He replies, pocketing his mobile before moving to the coat rack to don his coat and scarf, wanting to get this over with so they could get back to what they were doing.]
[ Its John who is the one becoming distracted as he watches Sherlock button his own shirt back up. He's this close to letting out a disappointed sound, much akin to a whimper, as that pale, lean chest is covered once again. The shirt fits the man perfectly, of course, and he looks very good in it, but it makes it worse, knowing the lovely body that lies just beneath that taunting material. Its unfair that the shirt will get to touch his skin while John, unfortunately, cannot - certainly not while they're out in public on a case. Steeling himself up best he can, he finishes with his shirt, absently raking a hand through his short hair. ]
Nightclub. Lovely. So, what, is it a dead body, then?
[ He asks, somewhat dryly, as he shrugs his own shorter coat on, and follows after his flatmate. Just being close to him now is distracting, and they haven't even left the flat yet. The urge to just snog Sherlock is there and its strong, but he does his very best to keep it held in, even as the longing is evident in his gaze. ]
[Despite the unfortunate circumstances they find themselves in, Sherlock still found it rather amusing how they both were staring at the other as they fixed their shirts. He manages a slight smirk at the way John stares at him, unable to wait for when they could get back to what they were doing so he could keep seeing that look.
He nods.] Prostitute. Intestines removed. [He smirks a little, wondering if John had caught on to why this had caught his interest.] Sound familiar?
[He makes it to the door just fine, and it isn't until he waits by the door and glances up at John that a pang of desire hits him again. He can see his own longing reflected on John's face, and that fact more than anything makes him truly regret having to go on this case.
He needed just a bit more to have any hopes of getting through this, so he takes John's shoulders and pushes him gently but firmly up against the wall to snog him hard. It's a very good outlet for frustration, he found, pouring all the unsaid yearning into the kiss to take a bit of the edge off.
He gives a sigh of relief after he breaks the kiss, smiling at John's bewildered expression.]
That should hold me over. I hope, anyway. [He says, kissing him gentler and quicker this time before prying himself off of him so they could finally leave. He knew that urge would probably strike him a few more times throughout the evening, and he only hoped they'd be near a secluded place so he could act on it whenever it came about again.]
[ John frowns a bit, slightly puzzled and a bit alarmed by the description of the body they were meant to examine. While it did seem right up Sherlock's alley, and as a doctor, he wasn't repulsed by the idea of the body... he still would have much rather stay here and continue what they'd been doing. He was fairly certain that made him quite sane. ]
Other than being a bit unusual and right up your alley, you mean? [ His mind is still a bit clouded from those intoxicating thoughts of Sherlock's very warm body and very real lips on his own, however. He's reaching, shrugging his shoulders carelessly. ] Could it be for a black market thing...?
[ Not that he has much time to think about it, however. A surprised sound escapes his lips as the taller man pushes him against the wall, and he suddenly finds himself being snogged. Hard. A sort of pleased little moan is muffled as he melts into that kiss, returning it with equally eager fervor, his hands running desperately up Sherlock's sides. Of course, its over too quickly, and he does look quite bewildered, his cheeks a bit pink. The second kiss is much gentler, but lovely all the same, even if it is driving him a bit mad. John manages a little chuckle that's really more of a giggle, shaking his head. ]
Just don't, uhm... well, you probably shouldn't do that in front of Lestrade and the, ah, others. You know how people will talk.
[ He smirks a bit, glancing up at Sherlock with dry amusement. Its all John can do to keep his hands to himself, but he does try, fisting his hands into his pockets before leading them outside to hail a taxi. ]
[Sherlock nods, waiting eagerly to see if John had figured it out yet. He's not disappointed when he doesn't know, figuring John hadn't spent quite as much time studying serial killers as he had.]
It's possible, of course. It would be more probable if it wasn't the same area and MO of a certain, rather famous serial killer who never did end up getting caught. [He could just tell John, but he much prefers dropping hints until he figures it out himself. He's found he rather likes having a willing pupil who didn't dismiss his deductive methods as the rantings of a madman.
Thoughts of the case are put aside for a moment in favor of practically wrapping John up in his coat to push him against the wall and kiss the breath out of him. John's moan and roaming hands at his sides spur him on, deepening the kiss for a long moment before pulling back. He smiles at the way John's look changes from surprise to amusement, wanting to kiss that smile off his face, but knowing they'd never make it out of the flat if he did.]
Certainly not. We'll just have to find somewhere private the next time that urge strikes either of us. [Yes, that's a blank check for John to drag him into an empty room or abandoned alley to do whatever he pleased to him. So, you know, feel free to take advantage of that, John.
He smirks right back at John as they finally get out the door, taking his seat in the taxi and trying, like John, to keep his hands to himself. He doesn't quite succeed, glancing down at John's hand and letting his own fingers inch over to rest his own hand over it, his eyebrows raised in an 'is this alright?' expression. He would restrain himself completely when they got to the crime scene because he didn't want anyone to know about them just yet, being as they were in the very preliminary stages of this relationship of sorts. He hardly cared what the cabbie thought, though.]
[ John's cheeks warm even more in a blush after Sherlock's blatant offer to whisk him away into an alley, or a closet should the urge take over. He's suddenly feeling very much like a hormone-driven teenager, and it has him giggling again. Its all ridiculous, really, but he hasn't felt this alive - at least in the intimate sense - in quite some time. It shouldn't have been surprising, since he had only felt like he was merely existing until the consulting detective came into his life and turned it upside down. So don't you worry, Sherlock - he'll probably take advantage of you, should the opportunity present itself.
Meanwhile, he is still feeling rather flustered even after they've settled into the cab. He licks his lips absently, still able to taste Sherlock there, and remember quite vividly what it felt like to kiss him so hungrily. Still, that hand settling over his is surprising, but of course not unpleasantly so. Catching the younger man's gaze, he meets it with a slight smile. His response is to shift his hand around the others so that their fingers are laced together. The feel of those long, elegant fingers linked with his own is quite nice, really. He wants to do much more than just hold hands with him... but he, too, is afraid that once they start up again... he may be powerless to stop. So, instead, he merely strokes his thumb, making lazy patterns on the back of Sherlock's hand. He hopes its taken as a promise for future 'affections' to come. Its around then that a thought comes to him when he processes the detective's earlier words, and his brow furrows. ]
Famous serial killer... wait, you don't mean Jack the Ripper? That was ages ago - late 1800s, wasn't it? Do you think this might be some sort of copycat?
[Sherlock is really starting to be grateful for his ability to make John blush and smile like that. There is no other word for it than 'adorable', as little as he ever uses that word as a descriptor. It's certainly accurate in this case.
He watches intently for John's reaction to his hand over his, feeling his heart patter away in his chest in anticipation. He visibly brightens when John smiles again and entwines their fingers. It's something so simple, really, but it gives him a little thrill to know he could do that whenever he pleased. Part of him was excited for everyone at the Yard to find out about them, so he could hold John's hand proudly with a look that said 'look what I've got that you don't'. The way John strokes his hand is comforting when they were so unceremoniously interrupted, and Sherlock was definitely looking forward to when they could get back to it.
He watches, fascinated as the realization dawns over John's face. He's so proud of him for catching on so quickly.]
Very good. Yes, I believe so. The killer is using it to toy with us, I'm sure. Jack the Ripper was never caught, you know. This killer is trying to say that he won't be caught as well. [A smirk] He must be unfamiliar with me.
[ John would probably be both flattered and embarrassed if Sherlock ever called him 'adorable.' But his amusement at hearing the detective use such a descriptor would probably win out over his other reactions. As for holding hands for all the Yard to see someday... well, he would be more than proud to also show off his claim on Sherlock. He didn't really defend the detective with Donovan or Anderson called him a freak, or put him down, but inwardly, he really hated it. What better way to show that, yes, Sherlock was very much a human being, you're being rather ignorant and childish, and you're really missing out because I get to really know and snog this beautiful creature. So there.
Meanwhile, Sherlock's praise is so few and far in between that John can't help but be flattered. He's more the modest type, really, and its not as if he thinks he really deserves it, but its appreciated nonetheless, and it turns his smile a bit silly for a moment or two. And then, Sherlock is going on confidently about how's really already got the best of this copycat killer, so why does he even try? John watches him with that sort of awe he often has, and chuckles quietly, shaking his head with some disbelief. He glanced down at their linked hands, his voice quiet. ]
Its going to be bloody difficult keeping my hands to myself through all this when all I really want to do, right now is snog you senseless. [ John looked back up at Sherlock beneath partially lowered lids, his smirk almost sheepishly devious. ] Bad of me to say that, when there's a killer on the loose and someone murdered, isn't it? Suppose I really should get my priorities straight.
[Sherlock smirks back at John's grin at his praise, more than looking forward to finding out what sort of other things John is good at apart from amateur deductive reasoning. He can feel John's awe of him as much as see it, and it picks him up every time because it was so rare that he was complimented or respected for the work he did.
He glances back to John from where he was staring out the window contemplatively, often reading into John's expression what he might say next, but he was drawing a blank at the way John was looking at him now. He's surprised, certainly, to hear all that, though he was similarly afflicted himself. Still, it was all very new to him to have someone express interest in him where it was mutual.
He gives a sly smile and leans in a bit, falling all too easily into flirting in return, though John was the only one where it was genuine.]
I think your priorities are exactly where they ought to be. And you know, it'll be a good ten more minutes before we're anywhere near the crime scene. If you're so inclined to act on your urges- [He has a hungry look about him as he says that word.] -I certainly wouldn't protest.
[ John has witnessed Sherlock flirting with other people before, of course, but it was never truly genuine. It was always just to manipulate someone get what he wanted. It bothered the doctor sometimes - especially in Molly's case, because he had become fond of the young woman... but he certainly didn't mind now. Some part of him realized his flatmate was doing this to get what he wanted, but that was alright with him, because he wanted it just as much. Having that man flirt with him so casually, and flash that sly smile really was John's undoing.
No, actually, it was probably the way his voice caressed the word 'urges' and his expression was so eagerly hungry. John smirked lightly, his heart pounding in his chest once again. ]
You are going to be more trouble for me than usual, you know.
[ Not that he minded the trouble, of course. That amused response was all he could manage, because the urge was relentless and he was powerless but to give in. Leaning in to close that small distance, he shifted towards Sherlock, and wrapped his free hand around the back of Sherlock's neck to pull him in for another kiss. His other hand released the detective's to instead slip inside his coat and curl around his slender waist. He was somewhat aware the cabbie could see - and hear - them, and it was a bit embarrassing yes... but he was quickly becoming lost to passionate snogging once again. In that moment, nothing else really mattered. ]
[John was the only person where he would actually make good on his flirting, and he found he rather liked knowing that the back and forth would end in actual snogging this time. And yes, maybe he really enjoyed the way John looked at him when he turned on his rarely used charm.]
I suppose it's good for both of us that you love trouble, then. [His voice is low in his eagerness, too ready for John to eliminate the distance between them, just like that. He shifts closer too, resting a hand on John's side to loosely grab at his coat. His other hand rests on his chest, just over his heart to study how the tempo changed during this activity. He's pressed up just perfectly against John's side like this, tilting his head to press the kiss a bit deeper and enjoy these few minutes before they'd be forced to part yet again.
The cab driver -and the rest of London, for that matter- didn't even exist for all he cared at the moment. It could all blink out of existence and he wouldn't care, so long as he could keep snogging John. Propriety certainly wasn't very high on his list of cares at the moment, made obvious by how he's sucking on John's bottom lip before pressing his tongue against his lips to beg entrance into his mouth. Not exactly standard decorum for cab rides, but Sherlock was never one to care much about etiquette, especially when he's enjoying himself so much.]
[ John didn't mean to be verbal, but he couldn't help the quiet mixture between a moan and a slight whimper that escaped his lips, muffled when Sherlock sucked on his lower lip like that. He was only all too willing to part his lips and allow that tongue to slip deliciously into his mouth. Their tongues met in a slow sort of tangle, causing him to lean into the kiss that much more. For someone who may not be well-practiced in the art of snogging, the consulting detective is doing a very fine job. Not that John should be surprised, of course - Sherlock doesn't do anything unless he can do it well.
Meanwhile, he's enjoying sucking on his flatmate's tongue, his hand on that waist slowly roaming down to rest upon his thigh. That almost devious hand squeezes Sherlock's thigh gently. The other hand is still wrapped around his neck, fingers tangling in that unruly, dark hair. Oh yes, the cabbie is certainly getting a show tonight. Although John will probably be a bit embarrassed as soon as they get there, right now, he's not terribly concerned. Instead, he breaks the kiss only to graze his teeth lightly upon Sherlock's lower lip, then press tender kisses along his jawline... only to return eagerly to capture his lips once again. ]
[Sherlock smirks against his lips when John moans like that, all too excited about how easily he elicited that reaction. He feels John lean into him and is all too happy to tug him closer. It's true that he's not used to this, but it makes him all the more invested so he can get good at it quickly. Based on how John's reacting, he's thinking he's coming along quite well indeed.
He gives a soft groan at the way John sucks on his tongue and squeezes his thigh, pressing closer to really attack his mouth. His hands fist into John's coat, hugging him close as John kisses over his jawline. God, he really wished they didn't have a case now, because he was getting far too aroused by all this. He's almost trying to pull himself into John's lap to get closer, meeting the kiss enthusiastically.]
I'm thinking 'unimportant' would be very good about now. [ John decides hopefully, a wry little smirk pulling at the corners of his lips as he props himself up just a bit on his elbows, without pulling himself away from the very comfortable position atop of Sherlock. A frown is already lining his face as he watches the other read the text, and he sighs when his fears are confirmed.]
You're joking. [ His voice is flat, but he knows enough to know Sherlock is not 'yankin his chain.' Much as they were both enjoying this, he really doubts the other would be that cruel. Not like this. Heaving a sigh this time, he falls back against his flatmate, laying his cheek briefly on his chest, nuzzled beneath Sherlock's chin. For a moment, he enjoys hearing the detective's still quickened heartbeat beneath that warm, pale skin. ]
Not that a case isn't good, of course... and Lestrade wouldn't be asking for you if he didn't really need you. So its probably something highly unusual and right up your alley. [ A beat. He's really trying to convince himself they had better go. ] Probably dangerous too...
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He can't help but agree with John's hope that it's unimportant, though he'd still be miffed about halting this to read a pointless text message. No such luck, of course, because the text is from Lestrade about a new case. He sighs again and shakes his head when John says he's joking.
He sets aside the mobile and tries to muster the energy to get up until John lays his head on his chest like that. His hand finds his hair to stroke it softly, happy to stay like this for now.]
It would be better if it were to come about a few hours later. [It really did seem unfair that he finally experiments with physical affection only to have it interrupted. John's words were true, and it irritated him just how true they were because that would mean leaving this. He hugs John tighter against him, nuzzling his hair and appearing not to want John to get up even though he probably should.]
We'll...pick up on this later, correct? [He asks, hoping John wouldn't be discouraged from trying this again when they had the time. He really really would rather continue now, but it seemed the criminal classes had other plans.]
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As those arms tighten around him and he hears the detective's words, it suddenly hits John that this is what's most important - not his job at the clinic, not even the cases themselves sometimes, but just this incredible man. He knows the detective would grow terrible bored of a 'domestic life,' but he suddenly muses that just spending a few days, or even a week inside, in bed even, with Sherlock Holmes, would not be a minute wasted. John tenderly presses his lips to Sherlock's breast, just above the previous heart he knows is there, both literally and figuratively, before raising his head to catch that gaze. ]
We absolutely will pick up on this later. [ He grinned crookedly, before leaning over to press his lips against the other man's. The kiss lasts a bit longer than he'd meant it to, but then, this is all still so very new. Its like a new addiction, and he can't help wanting more, even knowing that right now, it won't be enough. With a quiet sigh, he breaks away, looks into those vivid eyes for a heartbeat or two longer... then forces himself up and off Sherlock. Pulling his shirt back on, he starts to button it back up. ]
So... where are we meeting Lestrade?
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He manages a slight quirk of a smile when John kisses his chest, forgetting for just a moment that they needed to leave in favor of just enjoying stroking his hair in return. His smile widens when John assures him that they would be starting this up again later. He strokes the back of his neck and all too happily returns the kiss, glad that John let his lips linger for a few extra moments.
He sighs along with John when he pulls back, meeting John's gaze and wishing he didn't have to get up. He pushes a hand through his hair irritably, sitting up and buttoning up his own shirt as he watches longingly as John does the same, annoyed that he wouldn't be able to continue the study of his form until later.]
In the back alley of a nightclub in the Whitechapel district. [He replies, pocketing his mobile before moving to the coat rack to don his coat and scarf, wanting to get this over with so they could get back to what they were doing.]
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Nightclub. Lovely. So, what, is it a dead body, then?
[ He asks, somewhat dryly, as he shrugs his own shorter coat on, and follows after his flatmate. Just being close to him now is distracting, and they haven't even left the flat yet. The urge to just snog Sherlock is there and its strong, but he does his very best to keep it held in, even as the longing is evident in his gaze. ]
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He nods.] Prostitute. Intestines removed. [He smirks a little, wondering if John had caught on to why this had caught his interest.] Sound familiar?
[He makes it to the door just fine, and it isn't until he waits by the door and glances up at John that a pang of desire hits him again. He can see his own longing reflected on John's face, and that fact more than anything makes him truly regret having to go on this case.
He needed just a bit more to have any hopes of getting through this, so he takes John's shoulders and pushes him gently but firmly up against the wall to snog him hard. It's a very good outlet for frustration, he found, pouring all the unsaid yearning into the kiss to take a bit of the edge off.
He gives a sigh of relief after he breaks the kiss, smiling at John's bewildered expression.]
That should hold me over. I hope, anyway. [He says, kissing him gentler and quicker this time before prying himself off of him so they could finally leave. He knew that urge would probably strike him a few more times throughout the evening, and he only hoped they'd be near a secluded place so he could act on it whenever it came about again.]
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Other than being a bit unusual and right up your alley, you mean? [ His mind is still a bit clouded from those intoxicating thoughts of Sherlock's very warm body and very real lips on his own, however. He's reaching, shrugging his shoulders carelessly. ] Could it be for a black market thing...?
[ Not that he has much time to think about it, however. A surprised sound escapes his lips as the taller man pushes him against the wall, and he suddenly finds himself being snogged. Hard. A sort of pleased little moan is muffled as he melts into that kiss, returning it with equally eager fervor, his hands running desperately up Sherlock's sides. Of course, its over too quickly, and he does look quite bewildered, his cheeks a bit pink. The second kiss is much gentler, but lovely all the same, even if it is driving him a bit mad. John manages a little chuckle that's really more of a giggle, shaking his head. ]
Just don't, uhm... well, you probably shouldn't do that in front of Lestrade and the, ah, others. You know how people will talk.
[ He smirks a bit, glancing up at Sherlock with dry amusement. Its all John can do to keep his hands to himself, but he does try, fisting his hands into his pockets before leading them outside to hail a taxi. ]
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It's possible, of course. It would be more probable if it wasn't the same area and MO of a certain, rather famous serial killer who never did end up getting caught. [He could just tell John, but he much prefers dropping hints until he figures it out himself. He's found he rather likes having a willing pupil who didn't dismiss his deductive methods as the rantings of a madman.
Thoughts of the case are put aside for a moment in favor of practically wrapping John up in his coat to push him against the wall and kiss the breath out of him. John's moan and roaming hands at his sides spur him on, deepening the kiss for a long moment before pulling back. He smiles at the way John's look changes from surprise to amusement, wanting to kiss that smile off his face, but knowing they'd never make it out of the flat if he did.]
Certainly not. We'll just have to find somewhere private the next time that urge strikes either of us. [Yes, that's a blank check for John to drag him into an empty room or abandoned alley to do whatever he pleased to him. So, you know, feel free to take advantage of that, John.
He smirks right back at John as they finally get out the door, taking his seat in the taxi and trying, like John, to keep his hands to himself. He doesn't quite succeed, glancing down at John's hand and letting his own fingers inch over to rest his own hand over it, his eyebrows raised in an 'is this alright?' expression. He would restrain himself completely when they got to the crime scene because he didn't want anyone to know about them just yet, being as they were in the very preliminary stages of this relationship of sorts. He hardly cared what the cabbie thought, though.]
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Meanwhile, he is still feeling rather flustered even after they've settled into the cab. He licks his lips absently, still able to taste Sherlock there, and remember quite vividly what it felt like to kiss him so hungrily. Still, that hand settling over his is surprising, but of course not unpleasantly so. Catching the younger man's gaze, he meets it with a slight smile. His response is to shift his hand around the others so that their fingers are laced together. The feel of those long, elegant fingers linked with his own is quite nice, really. He wants to do much more than just hold hands with him... but he, too, is afraid that once they start up again... he may be powerless to stop. So, instead, he merely strokes his thumb, making lazy patterns on the back of Sherlock's hand. He hopes its taken as a promise for future 'affections' to come. Its around then that a thought comes to him when he processes the detective's earlier words, and his brow furrows. ]
Famous serial killer... wait, you don't mean Jack the Ripper? That was ages ago - late 1800s, wasn't it? Do you think this might be some sort of copycat?
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He watches intently for John's reaction to his hand over his, feeling his heart patter away in his chest in anticipation. He visibly brightens when John smiles again and entwines their fingers. It's something so simple, really, but it gives him a little thrill to know he could do that whenever he pleased. Part of him was excited for everyone at the Yard to find out about them, so he could hold John's hand proudly with a look that said 'look what I've got that you don't'. The way John strokes his hand is comforting when they were so unceremoniously interrupted, and Sherlock was definitely looking forward to when they could get back to it.
He watches, fascinated as the realization dawns over John's face. He's so proud of him for catching on so quickly.]
Very good. Yes, I believe so. The killer is using it to toy with us, I'm sure. Jack the Ripper was never caught, you know. This killer is trying to say that he won't be caught as well. [A smirk] He must be unfamiliar with me.
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Meanwhile, Sherlock's praise is so few and far in between that John can't help but be flattered. He's more the modest type, really, and its not as if he thinks he really deserves it, but its appreciated nonetheless, and it turns his smile a bit silly for a moment or two. And then, Sherlock is going on confidently about how's really already got the best of this copycat killer, so why does he even try? John watches him with that sort of awe he often has, and chuckles quietly, shaking his head with some disbelief. He glanced down at their linked hands, his voice quiet. ]
Its going to be bloody difficult keeping my hands to myself through all this when all I really want to do, right now is snog you senseless. [ John looked back up at Sherlock beneath partially lowered lids, his smirk almost sheepishly devious. ] Bad of me to say that, when there's a killer on the loose and someone murdered, isn't it? Suppose I really should get my priorities straight.
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He glances back to John from where he was staring out the window contemplatively, often reading into John's expression what he might say next, but he was drawing a blank at the way John was looking at him now. He's surprised, certainly, to hear all that, though he was similarly afflicted himself. Still, it was all very new to him to have someone express interest in him where it was mutual.
He gives a sly smile and leans in a bit, falling all too easily into flirting in return, though John was the only one where it was genuine.]
I think your priorities are exactly where they ought to be. And you know, it'll be a good ten more minutes before we're anywhere near the crime scene. If you're so inclined to act on your urges- [He has a hungry look about him as he says that word.] -I certainly wouldn't protest.
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No, actually, it was probably the way his voice caressed the word 'urges' and his expression was so eagerly hungry. John smirked lightly, his heart pounding in his chest once again. ]
You are going to be more trouble for me than usual, you know.
[ Not that he minded the trouble, of course. That amused response was all he could manage, because the urge was relentless and he was powerless but to give in. Leaning in to close that small distance, he shifted towards Sherlock, and wrapped his free hand around the back of Sherlock's neck to pull him in for another kiss. His other hand released the detective's to instead slip inside his coat and curl around his slender waist. He was somewhat aware the cabbie could see - and hear - them, and it was a bit embarrassing yes... but he was quickly becoming lost to passionate snogging once again. In that moment, nothing else really mattered. ]
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I suppose it's good for both of us that you love trouble, then. [His voice is low in his eagerness, too ready for John to eliminate the distance between them, just like that. He shifts closer too, resting a hand on John's side to loosely grab at his coat. His other hand rests on his chest, just over his heart to study how the tempo changed during this activity. He's pressed up just perfectly against John's side like this, tilting his head to press the kiss a bit deeper and enjoy these few minutes before they'd be forced to part yet again.
The cab driver -and the rest of London, for that matter- didn't even exist for all he cared at the moment. It could all blink out of existence and he wouldn't care, so long as he could keep snogging John. Propriety certainly wasn't very high on his list of cares at the moment, made obvious by how he's sucking on John's bottom lip before pressing his tongue against his lips to beg entrance into his mouth. Not exactly standard decorum for cab rides, but Sherlock was never one to care much about etiquette, especially when he's enjoying himself so much.]
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Meanwhile, he's enjoying sucking on his flatmate's tongue, his hand on that waist slowly roaming down to rest upon his thigh. That almost devious hand squeezes Sherlock's thigh gently. The other hand is still wrapped around his neck, fingers tangling in that unruly, dark hair. Oh yes, the cabbie is certainly getting a show tonight. Although John will probably be a bit embarrassed as soon as they get there, right now, he's not terribly concerned. Instead, he breaks the kiss only to graze his teeth lightly upon Sherlock's lower lip, then press tender kisses along his jawline... only to return eagerly to capture his lips once again. ]
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He gives a soft groan at the way John sucks on his tongue and squeezes his thigh, pressing closer to really attack his mouth. His hands fist into John's coat, hugging him close as John kisses over his jawline. God, he really wished they didn't have a case now, because he was getting far too aroused by all this. He's almost trying to pull himself into John's lap to get closer, meeting the kiss enthusiastically.]
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