The case was solved. Sherlock had been talking out loud to himself as they walked-at him rather than to him-for the last half hour. They were on a tour of the locations involved in the case, and the missing piece of the puzzle had finally presented itself to Sherlock. He had just sent a text to Lestrade, who would soon be off to make the arrest.
Despite the darkness of the night and the shadow of the bridge they were under, John could see by a streetlamp a few yards away that Sherlock was positively glowing with smugness and superiority. Fighting the urge to say words like "incredible" and "brilliant," John stayed silent and forced himself to stop gazing admiringly at Sherlock and instead adopted a slightly bored expression.
Sherlock had been pacing restlessly as he texted Lestrade, while John stood and caught his breath from the long and vigorous walk. Now that the mobile was back in his pocket Sherlock turned to John, who would be damned if he didn't see something akin to disappointment in Sherlock's eyes when he discovered that his flatmate wasn't staring at him with an awed expression on his face. John resisted the instinct to smile and continued to feign disinterest.
"Don't you have anything to say, John?" asked Sherlock, coming over to him. "Don't you want to praise my cleverness or ask how I figured it out?"
John peered at Sherlock as if he had only just noticed him.
"Oh, right. Good job then."
Sherlock's eyes narrowed and he stepped closer. "Don't pretend you aren't impressed, John. I know that my powers of observation and deduction are incomprehensible to your mind and therefore never cease to amaze you."
"Yes, very impressive," said John distractedly as he pretended to be interested in some graffiti.
John was standing close to the wall, and Sherlock came closer still, towering over him, and placed one hand on the wall behind John, pinning him against it. This got John's attention, and his eyes locked onto Sherlock's.
A satisfied smile tugged at the corner of Sherlock's mouth. "You know how lucky you are to be able to regularly witness my brilliance."
God, he was so arrogant. And so close. Their bodies were inches from touching. John licked his lips nervously. His heartbeat quickened as Sherlock continued to gaze intently at him with those piercing eyes. John's eyes roamed over the other man's face, taking in his chiseled features, his bright eyes, his dark curls, his tempting lips. He was excruciatingly beautiful. And he was coming closer still. Sherlock leaned in, closing the gap between their bodies, and put his lips to John's ear.
"You know there's nowhere in the world you'd rather be than right here, with me."
The words were spoken huskily, suggestively. A pleasant shiver ran through John as Sherlock's breath hit his ear. He tried to will himself to break away before Sherlock noticed his growing arousal, but he was looking at him again with that knowing expression and John was spellbound. Sherlock pressed his body more tightly against John's, and John gasped at the feeling of Sherlock's hard cock against him. His own arousal was now surely obvious to Sherlock, and John blushed furiously.
Sherlock was lowering his head toward him. John had to make a decision. He summoned all his self control and tore himself away from Sherlock. He had expected resistance, but Sherlock let him go without a fight.
"John..." said Sherlock.
His eyes were imploring, and John had to look away. He felt heartsick. He needed to get away.
"Don't," he said, and took off into the night.
"John!" Sherlock called.
The pain and urgency in Sherlock's voice broke John's heart, but he kept running. He had to find a cab. He would go home to his bedroom and lock the door. Maybe this whole thing would just blow over. After all, John had no idea what the true nature of Sherlock's interest was. He might just be another experiment to him. If they went through with it, everything would change. When Sherlock got bored, their friendship would be affected. John couldn't allow that.
He found a cab and quickly got inside, but someone else suddenly appeared through the opposite door.
"221B Baker Street," instructed Sherlock.
John stared at him as the cab started toward their home.
"You know I run faster than you, John."
John turned deliberately toward the window. "I guess I thought you'd have allowed me my space."
"Until a minute ago you were giving me the distinct impression that space was the last thing you wanted," said Sherlock.
"Then I suppose I came to my senses." John was staring out the window without seeing anything they passed. His whole consciousness was full of Sherlock.
"John. Look at me," said Sherlock quietly.
John continued to stare blindly out the window.
It was unnerving how subdued and patient his tone was, so John turned to face him. He immediately regretted it when Sherlock leaned in toward him. He needed to get out of here and collect himself. Things were going to be very difficult if he continued to get turned on whenever Sherlock was within a couple feet of him.
"I know you want me, John," said Sherlock. "I can see it in your eyes. Why do you resist?"
"Please just drop it."
"Why? Why should we deny ourselves what we want?"
"Because we don't both want the same thing."
"I think it's pretty obvious that we do."
"It's more complicated than that."
"I don't think it is."
"It is, Sherlock."
"BECAUSE I'M IN LOVE WITH YOU!" John shouted, losing his temper and his self control. "I'm bloody in love with you and you're married to your work and you would only get bored of me and our friendship would be ruined and I couldn't stand to lose you!"
The cab came to a stop.
"221B Baker Street," said the cabbie in apparent relief.
John tossed some money at Sherlock so that he'd lose a few seconds paying the cabbie and took off for the door. He raced up the stairs, ignoring Sherlock's calls, and was heading for his bedroom when he found himself pinned against a wall.
"You really are intolerably thick," said Sherlock, smiling at him.
"I'm glad that makes you happy," said John. "Please let me go."
"I can't be without you, John," said Sherlock. "I need you. I care for you too much to start something that I don't intend to finish."
John was too stunned to speak, so Sherlock leaned down slowly.
"I love you, John."
He kissed him, and John's doubt faded away. Sherlock's lips were soft and warm, and he kissed him with such tenderness that John believed Sherlock really did love him. After a few moments John pulled back. The whole thing felt too incredible to be true. But Sherlock was really there, pinning him to the wall, his eyes full of affection and longing.
Sherlock Holmes was longing for him.
It was this thought, along with the burning desire that accompanied it, that allowed John to let go of his hesitation. Sherlock saw the change in his expression and smiled right before John moved to embrace him. Their lips met again, this time with unrestrained passion. John parted his lips, and Sherlock's tongue dove in to explore. John reached up and laced his fingers through Sherlock's hair. He had been longing to touch those lovely curls for longer than he cared to admit. Their tongues danced and swirled, and when John plucked up the courage to give Sherlock's tongue a gentle suck it elicited a very rewarding sound from him.
Sherlock had soon removed John's coat and jumper, and John pulled off Sherlock's outer layers. He was about to go for his shirt buttons when Sherlock pressed their bodies together again. John was on fire, reveling in every point of contact. Sherlock aligned his hips with John's and pressed into him. John gasped and bucked his hips reflexively. Sherlock moaned. John had never heard a sexier sound.
"Oh God...Sherlock!" said John as Sherlock moved against him. "Bedroom."
"Hmm?" said Sherlock from John's neck.
Sherlock pulled back with a smile, his eyes dark with desire. It was only with the application of extraordinary self-control that John and Sherlock made it to the bedroom.
A/N: Thanks so much for reading, and thank you to Lygtemanden for the beta! Reviews are deeply appreciated and inspire me to write more fic!