[ John wasn't offended by that 'are you daft' look, since yes, he's quite used to it by now, and right now, its very comforting. It actually makes him smirk quietly in dry amusement, relief flooding through him when Sherlock reassures him that everything is much better than alright. When the detective went on to explain how fine he was with the fast pacing, a bit of color actually warmed the good doctor's cheeks sheepishly. He shook his head, gaze glancing down to those addicting, heart-shaped lips, the elegant neck... and the back up to those pale eyes before he could lose all his focus completely. It was a very easy thing to do when you were straddling one Sherlock Holmes and eager to get back to all that intoxicating snogging once again. ]
No, no - I'm very good with this pacing. I just... well. [ His expression softened into a little smile. ] I want you, Sherlock, more than I've wanted... well, anyone, really. It almost scares me how badly I want this. So please don't doubt my feelings on this. Unfortunately, I'm not yet to the
( ... )
[Sherlock enjoys the stunned silence thoroughly, especially when it's finally broken by John's praise. He gives him a slight smile, holding back the desire to just whisk out of there and kiss the breath out of him as soon as he could.
He's annoyingly dragged from that train of thought when Lestrade starts asking questions. He shares that silently yearning gaze with John for just a split second before addressing their obvious questions.]
What we're dealing with here is a copycat killer of Jack the Ripper. Someone with medical training, just like Jack, based on the cuts. Jack had five canonical killings, and this is the first. The second was eight days after the first on Hanbury Street.
[He answers whatever lingering questions Lestrade has, looking fairly antsy about getting out of there. He finally gets impatient after a few moments.] If you have any more questions, you can text me. Now, though, I have a previous engagement. [He was certainly looking forward to being there to conclude the case several days later, but now he
( ... )
[ Lestrade still looks rather surprised, and with good reason. Sherlock had solved a case in record time, and apparently had another 'engagement' to attend to. Of course, they had no idea said engagement involved his flatmate, much snogging, and most likely the removal of articles of clothing. That thought alone made John's insides do flips of anticipation. He swallowed hard, pretending calm and casual as was the norm, and merely nodded to Lestrade. He noted Donovan still looked wary, but he ignored it. ]
Have a good evening, then.
[ With that, he ducked his head a bit, and resisted the urge to go racing after Sherlock and rush them into the nearest alley. He had a bit more control than that, being a grown man and all, so surely he could wait until they were safely back in their flat. Honestly, he couldn't think of a time when 221B Baker Street had looked more welcome and inviting. But all the 'waiting' was really catching up to him. Once they were a safe distance from the crime scene, and he was walking at the other's side, did he
( ... )
[Sherlock didn't much care if anyone had gotten suspicious in the end. People had been saying things about the two of them since they'd met, so it didn't really matter that much, in truth. He was feeling the anticipation just like John was, so all that mattered to him right now was getting out of there.
He met John's gaze when they were far enough away from the crime scene, offering a slight smirk in return.]
I've had to hold their hands through far simpler deductions than this one. I'm not terribly worried.
[His expression turns contemplative after a moment.]
Would it be so terrible if they knew? [He asks, curious how John felt about anyone knowing. He knew it was a bit early to be saying anything about it, but he was wondering if John would be proud of being in a relationship with him or want to keep it a secret.]
[ John looked over at the taller man, studying his expression thoughtfully. Instead of answering right away, he simply slipped his hand comfortably into Sherlock's, giving it an encouraging squeeze. It didn't matter if they were far enough away from the crime scene or not. He decided he really didn't care. The soft smile and tender look on his face was for Sherlock and Sherlock alone. ]
No, Sherlock. It wouldn't be terrible at all if they knew.
[ He absently licked his lower lip, thinking for a brief moment how to explain it without offending Sherlock. Oh, he most certainly wanted this new development between them, that much should have been quite obvious by now. ]
Its still just very new, this thing we have. I don't feel like we should have to explain ourselves to anyone yet... and I'm not exactly sure a crime scene with a dead body just lying there is the best time to tell everyone. [ He paused, chuckling lightly in dry amusement. ] But you should know, next time Donovan calls you a 'freak,' I'm likely to just punch her, even if
( ... )
[Sherlock watches John for a long moment, hips lips quirking into a slight smile when his hand finds his. He felt that strange sensation in his chest again, a sort of tingling warmth at the knowledge that John would be alright with the rest of the world knowing about them.
He gives a nod of understanding when John explains it. Sherlock really didn't care what anyone thought, but that didn't stop him from wanting to understand exactly what they were before showing anyone else.][He replies, smirking when John chuckles. His expression is decidedly approving when John's protective instinct kicks in.]
I'm sure no one will blame you for that. [He was just fine with ignoring all of her insults, but he certainly wouldn't argue if John finally tried to teach her a lesson. It was comforting to know that John was there for him in every capacity, even though he had always considered himself an independent creature
( ... )
Probably wouldn't look good on my record, going around punching police officers like that, though.
[ John wouldn't have blamed Sherlock for ranting and raving. He's rather impatient himself, although he's a bit less likely to show off said impatience. As it is, it seems to take too long for a cab to finally stop, even if it was probably only a minute or two. Once it does, he almost stubbornly does not release the younger man's hand, crawling into the back seat behind him. After the cabbie is informed of their destination, he finally settles back, forcing himself to let out a slow breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. Glancing at Sherlock, he smiles crookedly, almost feeling sheepish and a bit shy in his anxiety to return to their flat. As much as he wants to snog the other man right there and then, he instead controls himself, deciding instead to let the anticipation keep building. What he does do, however, is take Sherlock's hand and bring it up to his lips to kiss his knuckles gently - tenderly, while holding his gaze, and the
( ... )
[Sherlock would swear up and down that everyone and everything in London was out to make this trip back to the flat as agonizingly long as possible. He climbs into the cab, sighing irritably to himself as he calculated in his head that the very soonest they could be home was fifteen minutes, which may as well have been years for how far off it seemed.
He tapped the fingers of his free hand impatiently on his knee as they rode, only pausing when he looked at John and relaxed a bit when he saw his smile. He watched, transfixed, as John picked up his hand and kissed his fingers, smiling softly at the calming gesture. John managed to relax him quite easily, his fingers stilling as he enjoyed the attention. He leans over to rest his head against John's, counting down the minutes until they were home.
When they finally arrived, he tossed some money at the cabbie and all but dragged John up the stairs, feeling like he only took his first real breath as soon as he pressed their door closed.]
[ John relaxed against Sherlock in the cab, his smile softening even though inwardly, he was still buzzing with anticipation. He was still surprised and humbled to know this impossible, lovely, brilliant man would become so emotionally invested in an ordinary man like him, would even want him... it wasn't something he could put into words. Then again, he probably was the more romantic of the two
( ... )
[Sherlock would certainly tell John he was being ridiculous if he ever were to think that he somehow wasn't worthy of his attention. John may not be perfect, but then Sherlock didn't really believe perfection existed. He did believe that John was perfect for him, though. He made him better, and called him brilliant when others called him a freak. That alone made all the difference for someone so used to being written off and insulted at every turn just because he was a bit (read: extremely) eccentric
( ... )
[ To put it simply, they just functioned better together - two men, so very different who understood and complemented each other. It helped, of course, that they were clearly attracted to each other on the physical level as well. Meanwhile, John's head was already starting to swim and his thoughts were becoming fuzzy as he kissed Sherlock so hungrily. When the other man's one, questioning word registered in his mind, however, his own heart skipped a beat or two. ]
Yeah, alright. [ He returned just as breathily, shucking out of his own coat and tossing it aside, not caring much where it would fall. Honestly, no, he didn't think they were going too fast. If anything, it had taken them centuries to get to this point - everything had led up to this. Breaking the kiss, he quickly snatched up Sherlock's hand and tugged him towards his room. John's room was probably cleaner - being former military and all, it was bred into him to keep a spotless bed and all - but it was upstairs, and Sherlock's room was just closer. Once there, he turned
( ... )
[John meant a great deal to Sherlock, that much was certain, though he had no idea just how much. It got to the point before all this that Sherlock couldn't stand whenever John would go to Sarah's simply because he wasn't there with him. His thoughts would quickly spiral out of control at that point, and had him thinking of if John ever ended up getting married and moving out. Just the thought of it unsettled him. What would he do when someone so perfectly there as John was suddenly gone? He couldn't handle the idea, which led him to acting strange for days before finally entertaining the thought that maybe he could replace Sarah. He didn't expect it to work, but John was remarkably obliging to the idea
( ... )
So I've decided I have two favorite Sherlocks and you, m'dear, are one of them. <3mightbebloggingNovember 24 2011, 02:16:10 UTC
[ This thing between them had been growing almost since day one. Of course, he hadn't known what it was then. John had been bound and determined to be attracted to women, which he was, but none, even the pleasant Sarah had ever affected him as much as Sherlock had - both physically and mentally. To have crossed the boundaries into this physical part of their developing relationship was indescribable in how excitingly frightening and wonderful it was. Frightening, perhaps, because he felt like he could hardly control himself, control this... but he wasn't looking back. The time for looking back had been ages ago, when he'd killed a man for the detective, or probably when he'd decided this was the life for him - at 221B Baker Street, with the eccentric, impossibly insufferable Sherlock Holmes
( ... )
Omggg <333 You're one of my favorite Johns too! I'm going to cuddle the hell out of you~shutupimageniusNovember 24 2011, 03:32:29 UTC
[Whatever it was that was constantly bringing them closer and closer together, Sherlock was certainly grateful for it. He never felt the urge to want to be close with people before, so it was almost as if it had all been saved up for John to the point where he wanted no space between them. No lines, no boundaries, no walls. It was incredible and terrifying at the same time for someone who always kept everyone at a distance until now. He wanted to study John completely, and this was certainly offering him that opportunity
( ... )
D'aww! We so awesome. :DmightbebloggingNovember 24 2011, 04:08:07 UTC
[ It was quite possible John forgot how to breathe for a moment or two. He didn't expect Sherlock to be anything but absolutely gorgeous, of course, but thinking that, and seeing it for himself were two very different things. So he was also unabashedly staring, drinking in that lean, pale form, all lanky limbs and legs that were also elegant and graceful and, yes, still quite masculine. It made him less self-conscious about his own flawed form, but those familiar fingers entwining themselves with his own and that smile on the other man's face was what really did it. He did relax, probably visibly, returning the smile easily, and reached out his free hand to gently touch the younger man's bare hip, thumb stroking. It was the first of many touches he hoped to have that night. ]
You're perfect.
[ John spoke just above a whisper, brow raised on his softened expression. Cliche or not, it was clear that he meant it, knowing that Sherlock was made more perfect in his imperfections. John had not a doubt in his mind that he was the most
( ... )
[Sherlock felt decidedly better when John reacted in the same way he had with the barely restrained desire to study and touch and feel as much as possible. He was glad he regained himself enough to be able to take John's hand, rewarded with the way he relaxed and smiled again. They would get through this together, just like always
( ... )
No, no - I'm very good with this pacing. I just... well. [ His expression softened into a little smile. ] I want you, Sherlock, more than I've wanted... well, anyone, really. It almost scares me how badly I want this. So please don't doubt my feelings on this. Unfortunately, I'm not yet to the ( ... )
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He's annoyingly dragged from that train of thought when Lestrade starts asking questions. He shares that silently yearning gaze with John for just a split second before addressing their obvious questions.]
What we're dealing with here is a copycat killer of Jack the Ripper. Someone with medical training, just like Jack, based on the cuts. Jack had five canonical killings, and this is the first. The second was eight days after the first on Hanbury Street.
[He answers whatever lingering questions Lestrade has, looking fairly antsy about getting out of there. He finally gets impatient after a few moments.] If you have any more questions, you can text me. Now, though, I have a previous engagement. [He was certainly looking forward to being there to conclude the case several days later, but now he ( ... )
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Have a good evening, then.
[ With that, he ducked his head a bit, and resisted the urge to go racing after Sherlock and rush them into the nearest alley. He had a bit more control than that, being a grown man and all, so surely he could wait until they were safely back in their flat. Honestly, he couldn't think of a time when 221B Baker Street had looked more welcome and inviting. But all the 'waiting' was really catching up to him. Once they were a safe distance from the crime scene, and he was walking at the other's side, did he ( ... )
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He met John's gaze when they were far enough away from the crime scene, offering a slight smirk in return.]
I've had to hold their hands through far simpler deductions than this one. I'm not terribly worried.
[His expression turns contemplative after a moment.]
Would it be so terrible if they knew? [He asks, curious how John felt about anyone knowing. He knew it was a bit early to be saying anything about it, but he was wondering if John would be proud of being in a relationship with him or want to keep it a secret.]
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No, Sherlock. It wouldn't be terrible at all if they knew.
[ He absently licked his lower lip, thinking for a brief moment how to explain it without offending Sherlock. Oh, he most certainly wanted this new development between them, that much should have been quite obvious by now. ]
Its still just very new, this thing we have. I don't feel like we should have to explain ourselves to anyone yet... and I'm not exactly sure a crime scene with a dead body just lying there is the best time to tell everyone. [ He paused, chuckling lightly in dry amusement. ] But you should know, next time Donovan calls you a 'freak,' I'm likely to just punch her, even if ( ... )
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He gives a nod of understanding when John explains it. Sherlock really didn't care what anyone thought, but that didn't stop him from wanting to understand exactly what they were before showing anyone else.][He replies, smirking when John chuckles. His expression is decidedly approving when John's protective instinct kicks in.]
I'm sure no one will blame you for that. [He was just fine with ignoring all of her insults, but he certainly wouldn't argue if John finally tried to teach her a lesson. It was comforting to know that John was there for him in every capacity, even though he had always considered himself an independent creature ( ... )
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[ John wouldn't have blamed Sherlock for ranting and raving. He's rather impatient himself, although he's a bit less likely to show off said impatience. As it is, it seems to take too long for a cab to finally stop, even if it was probably only a minute or two. Once it does, he almost stubbornly does not release the younger man's hand, crawling into the back seat behind him. After the cabbie is informed of their destination, he finally settles back, forcing himself to let out a slow breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. Glancing at Sherlock, he smiles crookedly, almost feeling sheepish and a bit shy in his anxiety to return to their flat. As much as he wants to snog the other man right there and then, he instead controls himself, deciding instead to let the anticipation keep building. What he does do, however, is take Sherlock's hand and bring it up to his lips to kiss his knuckles gently - tenderly, while holding his gaze, and the ( ... )
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He tapped the fingers of his free hand impatiently on his knee as they rode, only pausing when he looked at John and relaxed a bit when he saw his smile. He watched, transfixed, as John picked up his hand and kissed his fingers, smiling softly at the calming gesture. John managed to relax him quite easily, his fingers stilling as he enjoyed the attention. He leans over to rest his head against John's, counting down the minutes until they were home.
When they finally arrived, he tossed some money at the cabbie and all but dragged John up the stairs, feeling like he only took his first real breath as soon as he pressed their door closed.]
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Yeah, alright. [ He returned just as breathily, shucking out of his own coat and tossing it aside, not caring much where it would fall. Honestly, no, he didn't think they were going too fast. If anything, it had taken them centuries to get to this point - everything had led up to this. Breaking the kiss, he quickly snatched up Sherlock's hand and tugged him towards his room. John's room was probably cleaner - being former military and all, it was bred into him to keep a spotless bed and all - but it was upstairs, and Sherlock's room was just closer. Once there, he turned ( ... )
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You're perfect.
[ John spoke just above a whisper, brow raised on his softened expression. Cliche or not, it was clear that he meant it, knowing that Sherlock was made more perfect in his imperfections. John had not a doubt in his mind that he was the most ( ... )
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