[He doesn't know what it is about John that he came to admire so much. Maybe there were two many reasons to count, but the main ones were how John genuinely liked him while the vice versa was also true. He didn't know if it was more extraordinary that John was endlessly fascinated by him rather than hating him like so many others did, or that Sherlock was so interested in such a seemingly ordinary man. John may look like an everyman on the surface, but Sherlock knew better than that. John was absolutely singular, and studying him had become one of Sherlock's favorite pastimes since they moved in together
( ... )
I'm open for anything too. :D We'll have to start plotting, I could go for some good case!rp.shutupimageniusNovember 10 2011, 21:50:33 UTC
[Sherlock couldn't really understand what John saw in him either. Everyone else just saw a cold, deductive machine who couldn't possibly have any real feelings behind that mask. John effortlessly saw beyond what everyone said about him to see that Sherlock was, in fact, a human being underneath all his logic and his spiny demeanor, even though Sherlock hadn't even admitted that fact to himself yet.
This was all so new to him, to be able to feel John's reverence for him in every touch. He wasn't used to being admired by any stretch, so all of this was a lot to get used to, though he certainly was getting used to it. He stares up at John when he pulled back in muted surprise at everything he was feeling, shutting his mouth and feeling silly that it had been hanging open like it was in the first place. He gives a questioning look when John chuckles, for once unable to read what John might say because John had never looked at him like this before. And then he hears the word 'gorgeous' and well...he doesn't quite know what to say to
( ... )
WELL we could always have Lestrade call/text Sherlock, interrupting them here, or finish this first!mightbebloggingNovember 10 2011, 23:04:09 UTC
[ And now its John's turn to be abashed by the other's praise. Yes, he's quite good at praising Sherlock right and left after his brilliant deductions, but the man deserves that. The good doctor, meanwhile, is more the modest, humble type, so he's not an expert at handling praise, especially of this sort and especially from the detective. The first compliment about his 'skills' has the corners of his lips turning upward in a somewhat shy little smile. ]
Well, thanks, I'm... really glad you're liking this. [ He murmurs, watching the other and enjoying the touch, until the next compliment about his 'musculature' comes. This time, his cheeks do warm a bit, and he bits his lower lip in a now more sheepish smile. He's toned from his days as a soldier, yes, but its been a while now, and he's sure his physique has softened somewhat. So its a bit embarrassing, but also makes him feel rather good about himself, and all he can manage is a bit of a nod, glancing away from the other's vivid eyes for a moment. ]
Very much. [Sherlock replies, still surprised at how well he was taking to this activity he'd always assumed was unnecessary and pointless. This is certainly far from it, and he knows it's only because of John. He doesn't miss the color coming to John's face at his compliment, smiling softly at John's bashful expression.]
Not at all. I think our casework has kept you in remarkable shape. [He knows John is humble and not at all boastful, so he took it upon himself to have ego enough for the two of them. He let his head fall back against the sofa after the kiss, smirking lazily up at John and the way he lit up when Sherlock gave his thanks
( ... )
[ 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
( ... )
[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
( ... )
[ 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. ]
[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
( ... )
[ 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
( ... )
[ 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
( ... )
[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'
( ... )
[ 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
( ... )
[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
( ... )
[ 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
( ... )
[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
( ... )
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This was all so new to him, to be able to feel John's reverence for him in every touch. He wasn't used to being admired by any stretch, so all of this was a lot to get used to, though he certainly was getting used to it. He stares up at John when he pulled back in muted surprise at everything he was feeling, shutting his mouth and feeling silly that it had been hanging open like it was in the first place. He gives a questioning look when John chuckles, for once unable to read what John might say because John had never looked at him like this before. And then he hears the word 'gorgeous' and well...he doesn't quite know what to say to ( ... )
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Well, thanks, I'm... really glad you're liking this. [ He murmurs, watching the other and enjoying the touch, until the next compliment about his 'musculature' comes. This time, his cheeks do warm a bit, and he bits his lower lip in a now more sheepish smile. He's toned from his days as a soldier, yes, but its been a while now, and he's sure his physique has softened somewhat. So its a bit embarrassing, but also makes him feel rather good about himself, and all he can manage is a bit of a nod, glancing away from the other's vivid eyes for a moment. ]
Bit out of shape, probably. [ ( ... )
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Not at all. I think our casework has kept you in remarkable shape. [He knows John is humble and not at all boastful, so he took it upon himself to have ego enough for the two of them. He let his head fall back against the sofa after the kiss, smirking lazily up at John and the way he lit up when Sherlock gave his thanks ( ... )
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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 ( ... )
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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 ( ... )
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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 ( ... )
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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 ( ... )
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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 ( ... )
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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' ( ... )
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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 ( ... )
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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 ( ... )
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