Back from the Dead (Sherlock)

John buried his face in Sherlock's chest, taking in the detective's scent, it was calming him and exciting him at the same time.
It had always been like this with Sherlock. So much adventure, but also so much more.

He had never said those words to anyone, he had never cared so much, he had never trusted so much.
With Sherlock it seemed that nothing could truly describe just how much he was invested.
He loved him, there was no doubt.

"You can kiss me any time you like," he whispered, looking up with a grin. "I promise I won't complain," he joked, cupping the other's cheeks, his thumbs drawing patterns on the pale skin.

Sherlock's heart thumped in its chest. John was inviting him to take control, to kiss him. He desperately wanted to. Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, he held John's face in his hands and slowly leant in towards him, gently placing their lips together.

It was tentative at first but he quickly found himself overcome with feverish passion. He had to have more. He had to taste more of John. He opened his lips wider, enjoying the moist sensation of John's lips and tongue clashing with his. It was like nothing he'd ever felt before.

"I love you..." he murmured in between kisses, grabbing John's body and bringing him closer. He couldn't get him close enough...

((It's getting very romantic <3 who would have thought? ))

John tried to take things slowly, to give Sherlock time to process everything, but he found himself getting undone by the way the detective pulled him closer and kissed him as if he was the only man in the world. The only person in the world.

"Sherlock," he moaned softly, arms wrapping around the other's neck, the kisses were successfully blowing his mind. "I love you, too," he replied, almost desperate, his feelings were consuming him.

(( I know...it all seemed to happen quite naturally though, it's weird. Just proves how gay they blatantly both are. ))

The power of his emotions was so intense, Sherlock could think of nothing else except getting closer to John. It was as if he might explode at any minute. His body was aching for more. He knew what was supposed to happen next. He had studied the sequence of events that usually led up to love making...and he found his hand slip up the back of John's jumper and carress the bare skin gently with his fingertips.

"Take that stupid jumper off." he muttered.

(( I guess you are right XDD especially after Reichenbach Fall, it's impossible to ignore the feels XD ))

Chills ran up his spine when he felt soft fingertips touch his bare skin. He started, eyes wide as they looked up at Sherlock.
Did the detective really want this? Was he really ready?
He wondered, while his body slowly woke up from a slumber he had forced himself in.
He didn't remember how long it was anyone touched him at all.
And this wasn't just anyone.

"Okay, yes, of course," he said, nodding, pulling away just about enough to take off his jumper. The next second he was back on Sherlock's lips, trying not to feel nervous and just enjoy how wonderful it felt to have him so close.

He had no idea what he was supposed to do, but he had been with girls often enough to know the process. It was bound to be similar, he thought, fingertips searching for the line of buttons of Sherlock's shirt.

((I don't see how they'll get round it in S3. They've got to have them hugging at least! ))


He couldn't believe that something as simple as kissing could feel so good. God knows what anything else would feel like. Sherlock was still a little apprehensive but his desires had become overwhelming. Perhaps it was because he'd supressed his emotions for so many years, now they were bubbling at the surface all fighting to get out. But only for John. He had never felt this way for anyone. He'd always ridiculed love and sexual desires as being pointless wastes of time. He hated it when he was wrong.

Sherlock stepped back and watched as John removed his jumper, revealing a tight army style vest underneath. The contours and shape of his muscles were displayed perfectly. Sherlock had noticed John's body before, he'd noted his muscular tones and the fact that he still looked in good shape, he'd even imagined himself feeling John's muscles...but he'd never equated those thoughts to love, never considered that he might actually...well.../fancy/ John. Looking at him now though, things were a little different.

As they embraced for another highly charged kiss, he could feel John start to undo the top button of his shirt. He took one hand and hurriedly began to undo his buttons from the bottom up, meeting John in the middle. He tugged at John's vest, eager to get that off too, suddenly craving the sensation of skin on skin, another new experience for him.

((I know!! But Moffat is eviiil >< ))

John had always tried to keep himself in check, he had never lusted over his flatmate openly, and he had always tried to avoid thinking about him in certain ways, but now he was unleashing everything that had been hidden deep into his chest. When he could push the other's shirt to the side, his eyes were hungry, taking in the warm pale expanse of skin as if it was the most sensual thing he had ever seen.
He was sure it was.

He did not think, he just pulled back enough to get rid of his vest as well, before he embraced him tightly, pushing their bodies together and burying his face in the other's neck.

"You're beautiful... so beautiful," he whispered against his skin, before he licked his way up to the other's earlobe. "I've always wanted to tell you that..."

The feel of their bare chests against each other was warm and magical. Sherlock rubbed his hands along the soft skin of John's bag before leaning down to gently carress the other's neck with his lips.

Sherlock giggled when John said he was beautiful, and pulled back slightly to stare into his eyes.

"You have to be kidding me right?" He asked with a grin. "Me? Beautiful? No one's ever used that word before."

"People are mad not to see it," he whispered, running his hands over the other's face and then his chest and arms, everything he could touch.
"You are perfect," and he really believed what he was saying, he had thought that so many times.

"No one will convince me of the opposite," he added, hands on Sherlock's lower back, he dragged their hips closer.

Sherlock realised John was serious...he really did find him attractive....and just the sensation of those hands all over his body...my God, it was sending him wild. He had a vague idea about what was supposed to happen next. It made him feel sick with nerves but he couldn't stop himself from wanting more of John...wanting to feel his touch everywhere.

"I...I...um do you...do you...do you want to come to my bedroom?" he stammered. "I mean...is...that's what happens next right? Because I'm not...sure."

John pulled away a bit at the question, his thoughts derailing quickly to images of a naked Sherlock, and his crotch seemed to want to reply on his own.

He tried to be rational though, was it right to do this now?
Technically, he had pined for Sherlock for three years, it was preparation enough, but at the same time, was Sherlock ready?

"I... I want to..." he stammered, pursing his lips as he tried to find the right words. "But I have never... been with a man... are you sure you want to-?" he asked, trying to look into his eyes. "I am the kind of person who dives head first into anything, but I don't want to hurry you, Sherlock," he muttered, caressing his cheek lovingly.

Sherlock looked away thoughtfully, trying to calm down his lustful urges and regain control of his rationality. He noticed John was trying to catch his eye and realised it was his turn to speak again. Damnit, he hated this. His body was making his mind think crazy thoughts, thoughts he'd never had before in his life. It irritated him deeply to feel so out of control.

He pulled John closer for moral support and mumbled into his sandy hair.

"I don't want to spoil our friendship John," he mused. "But...but...AAGH!" He pulled away frustrated and angry. The words wouldn't come.

He grabbed his shirt off the floor and flung it over his shoulder in a huff.

"Do what you like. I don't care." He snapped coldly, before brushing past John and heading for his room.

He slammed the door, picked up the violin and began to play a violent discordant tune. It sounded awful. He wanted it to sound awful. He felt so confused and alone...he really didn't know what he wanted anymore.

"Wait!" he tried to protest, hands reaching out to stop Sherlock, but they were too late, the man ran away before he could do anything.

"Damn it," he groaned, he did not enjoy to be left with a throbbing erection. He stood up not even bothering to pick up his jumper, and followed Sherlock to the bedroom.

He opened the door and looked at him impatient: "Do you have to storm off like that? We can discuss things you know."

Sherlock ceased his playing temporarily and turned to look at John, still topless, standing in his doorway. He regarded him silently for a few moments, then his heart began to soften again. He sighed wearily and sat down on the bed, resting the violin and bow beside him.

"Forgive me," he muttered quietly. "Discussing things like feelings isn't exactly my area. I...it's not easy."

He looked at the floor, hoping John would understand.

"You don't say," grunted John, but his tone had already lost most of its annoyance. He walked further inside the room: "I still would like you not to leave me alone though... at least for tonight," he added, closing the door.

"If you don't mind, I will sleep here..." and he motioned to Sherlock's bed.

"We don't have to discuss things, but it's quite annoying if you just react like a three years old on drugs..." he pointed out, patting the other's head. "I am not trying to force you into anything, I won't run away screaming just because you don't want to have sex with me."

Sherlock flushed at the word sex.

"You know..." He began nervously. "You know I've never...I mean I've never..." He cleared his throat. "I've never actually done it before. With anyone. Ever."

He allowed himself to fall back on the bed, and turned over facing away from John.

"And please do stay the night here or at least until Mycroft comes back, because I really couldn't bare for you to be anywhere else right now. I need you with me John."

He desperatly needed to feel John's arms around him. It made him feel quite pathetic to want someone so badly. He smiled to himself. What had John done to him?

To see Sherlock's pale face flush red was something that stirred even more excitement in John's belly, but he tried to ignore it, sitting on the bed beside the detective.
"I gathered as much," he said with a reassuring smile. "I have never been with a man, so I reckon our first time will be quite clumsy," but for some reason he still thought it'd be brilliant.

"Unless you prefer not to do anything," he said, biting on his lower lip. "There must be a reason you kept yourself abstinent till now, maybe you prefer to continue that way?"

He laid beside Sherlock, even though the other was facing the other way. "I need you just as much, Sherlock... I fear if I look away you will disappear again..."

A man's mouth moved on a piece of gum. Mint, not that that was important.
Dark eyes flicked about Baker Street. Too bad Sherlock was smart enough to close the blinds, he'd really love to see the happy reunion. Perhaps the dear doctor had even fainted--how amusing would that have been?
He looked again at the street below as Sebastian made another pass, glancing up at the curtained windows of 221B. Moron. He'd have to...re-educate him...on how to conduct surveillance. One would think he would know by now.
Sweet how he was doing exactly what his old boss would have told him to. Sherlock had survived his fall, somehow--he'd have to fix that eventually. And if he could do that without even ordering it, who was he to complain?
Dear god it was good to be back in London.

((I'm just here to break up the action! ))
((*wind whistles*))
((...hi, boys!))

((Ha, no problem Jim...it's cool to just hear what Jim is getting up to, even though he's not in the action yet, it's like separate scenes running parallel))


John spoke softly, kindly, and it made Sherlock feel a little better.

"I always thought it was a pointless thing to do," he shrugged. "Pointless and illogical." But it didn't seem that way with John. With John it seemed exciting, dangerous, passionate. He felt like it was an area he was now able to explore with a little more confidence. As long as he had John with him he knew he could do anything. "Maybe I was just waiting for the right person." He mused.

He felt John lie down next to him on the bed, and turned himself round to face him. He buried his head into the other man's chest.

"I want you John," he muttered. "I really do. I'm just...scared. I...I don't want to rush..."

John smiled, wrapping an arm around Sherlock's shoulders as he moved closer. "You just said something very romantic," he pointed out, he really hoped he was the right person for Sherlock.

"We can take it one step at a time, you know," he said, and kissed his forehead. "I should probably do some research myself before going all the way..."
He felt his throat go slightly dry: "But there are several things one can do before actual intercourse," he pointed out hesitantly.

He snuggled up into John's warm body and grinned.

"I've been accused of many things in my time John Watson but never of being romantic."

Sherlock had an idea of what John was talking about...he knew there were other things two people could do together. Once upon a time he'd thought them stupid and weird...now suddenly, being here with John, it all started to feel quite natural. He was intrigued and rather excited at the prospect.

He raised his eyebrows in a suggestive manner, knowing he was cheekily teasing John. "I think I might like that." But then his grin suddenly vanished as he became aware he didn't really know what to do. "Umm...you might have to...um, show me."

"You might be the least romantic person I know," he agreed with a grin. "But you still said something sweet, it's even more meaningful because you didn't really realize," he muttered and kissed his cheek.

"Mm... so I got you interested, now, did I?" he teased back, and moved his hands around the other's waist and under the shirt, he needed to touch the skin. "Tell me at least masturbated before?" he asked curious, he really had no idea how Sherlock could have spent his teenager years without obsessing about sex.

Sherlock frowned slightly and looked away.

"I tried it a couple of times," he shrugged, "but never really got anywhere. I didn't know what to...what to think about when I was...y'know...I ended up trying to work out how much sodium I'd need to turn the school fish pond into an exploding water fountain. You can imagine why it didn't work out. I just found it all a bit....dull."

Sherlock knew he was pretty weird but he honestly didn't care, hadn't cared...until now. Suddenly it seemed a little more interesting. He was enjoying the touch of the doctor's fingers on his back, so moved a bit closer and began to do the same to him.

God knows how many times Sebastian had walked past the flat of 221b and glanced up.
There really was no point, the curtains were drawn and he couldn't see in.
Sherlock's deductions had been right. Sebastian had set up everything in the flat across and was planning to make the shot from there.
He was already impatient. All that was needed was the right timing and the signal. Signal from his boss of course. But Jim Moriarty was in no rush to give it.
And God dammit he had itchy trigger fingers.

(Hope you don't mind me interrupting xD)
(I felt like now was the best time.)

((Seb...you don't know I'm back yet. xD))