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Art by alifetimeaheadtoprovethat
John looks around, the water surrounding them. It would only take one wrong step for them to fall into the water, swept away by the river's current. But Sherlock ignores the risk of drowning as he unravels his series of deductions about their new case.
The day before, a woman in her fifties arrived at a late hour, completely panicked. Once John managed to calm her down, she told her story about the missing cat. Sherlock laughed uncontrollably, but John calmed him down with his do-it-again-and-I'm-breaking-your-bone-by-one captain look. The woman saw nothing of this silent exchange, but was offended by Sherlock's laughter.
What caught the detective's attention were the events that happened next. According to their client, dead cats sank into the river below her house, washed away in the current. Sherlock had jumped for joy when he finally heard a new and interesting case after three weeks of dead calm.
They had taken the first train to Sussex and now they were investigating cats while standing on a rock in the middle of a river. He laughs inwardly at the strangeness of their case.
He's getting tired, standing there trying to understand what Sherlock is saying while avoiding slipping due to the strong current, all without a minute of sleep for over twenty-four hours.
"...can only come from the neighbour and-"
John notices only a few seconds later that Sherlock has stopped in his monologue, which is not normal. He looks at him with an outraged expression, waiting for him to explain himself. John replies with a shrug.
"Are you listening to me?
-I've been up for over twenty-four hours, and we're in the middle of a river talking about a dead cat, so no. All I'm thinking about is getting back to Baker Street and sleeping in my own bed."
Sherlock looked even more outraged and John thought drama queen as he rolled his eyes.
"I was saying that the current is strong enough for the cats to come from far away but their corpses are too fresh. According to the current and their state of decomposition, taking into account the time they spent in the water, they have only travelled four kilometres in the water so far. There are only three houses where they could have been dumped. It won't take you long to question the owners.
-What do you mean "take you"? You mean "us"?
-You heard me perfectly, John. Sherlock sighs.
-And why me?
-Because you're better at socialising than I am and I need to check with Molly about the bodies our client has recovered, which contain information crucial to the investigation.
-Of course it does. John mutters to himself ."
Even though he has heard it, Sherlock ignores it and takes one last look around before spinning around violently. John sees the thing coming from a distance and watches his roommate lose his balance. It all happens in seconds and the doctor thanks the army and the years of working with Sherlock for giving him good reflexes.
Before he has time to hit the water, John catches him as quickly as he can, which means one arm around his shoulders and the other around his waist. If Sherlock had planned to complain about the rock or even about John - he would be able to find an excuse to blame him - he didn't. Instead, he stares at him with his blue-grey eyes, his cheeks slightly red.
John doesn't know if Sherlock's blush is because of the fall or the fact that he's holding him the way a man would hold his wife after a slow dance, where the man just needs to bend down slightly to kiss her and the woman needs to put her hand in the back of his neck to hold him against her and lean into him even though she's protected by the arms around her. John has done this many times after dancing with his former girlfriends. Except this time, in his arms is not one of his girlfriends but his incredible roommate, colleague and friend: Sherlock Holmes himself. He blushes in turn.
He just has to lower his face a few inches, put his lips against Sherlock's luscious ones and do the thing he's been fantasizing about for months. And yet, he simply whispers inches from Sherlock's lips:
"Be careful."
Sherlock blushes even more.
Normally he would have pulled away from his arms violently, saying he doesn't need help. But it's John who's holding him, not anyone else. So he remains in this position, the risk of falling into the water in John's hands - literally. As for John, he could have had a chance to revenge himself for the times Sherlock has given him a hard time, or to shout "I'm not gay" even though there's no one around for more than a mile. But they remain in the same position without daring to move, even to breathe, with the risk of being swept away by the current.
It is Sherlock who makes the first move, lowering his gaze from John's eyes to his lips. John loses control of his emotions and bends down, quickly to avoid any rejection from the detective, then puts his lips down almost violently. It's awkward, their noses collide and John bites Sherlock's bottom lip, causing him to squeak. Sherlock grunted in frustration as he withdrew and then put his hand on the back of his neck for support and tilted John's head to regain possession of his lips properly. John's groan at the sensation of their perfectly interlocked lips was swallowed by Sherlock's mouth.
One hand went up into John's hair while the other arm encircled his shoulders. He took it as a signal to strengthen the kiss and slipped his tongue between Sherlock's lips as he tightened his grip around the body he'd wanted for many months.
John has never questioned his sexuality, describing himself as heterosexual from a young age. His father never let him think about it. Then there was the army. Like many men, he had more sexual than romantic relationships with some of them, although he avoided it as much as possible. The number of times he did it can be counted on one hand. And then there were women too, even if they were only a minority. It still didn't give John a chance to think about his sexual orientation seriously, his shoulder injury and his repatriation prevented that. Since then, he has tried to push those moments away in his head and focus on getting back to civilian life between his nightmares, suicidal urges, and his cane.
Until he meets Sherlock Holmes.
This man turned his life upside down in a matter of seconds. He went from being a suicidal crippled ex-military man to being the roommate and friend of a consulting detective (the only one in the world) and running through the streets of London chasing criminals. Like many people, he was not indifferent to Sherlock's looks, but what surprised him more was that he was not indifferent to his personality and superior intelligence either, unlike others. John likes intelligent girls with whom he can have serious conversations, but this was never a "search criterion" for him, just a little extra in his relationships. But as soon as Sherlock started to deduce his army service and psychosomatic injury, he was initially annoyed with an urge to show him his fist more closely and finally admires and compliments him at every deduction. He relishes Sherlock's blushes in these moments and avoids Greg's suggestive eyes at all costs. As the weeks and months passed, he went from simple admiration to a love that would make him do anything for him. When he realised this, he spent many nights questioning his heterosexuality only to fog over and wake up with no answers. He thought that Sherlock might be an exception but his years in the army, especially the few relationships he had, and his university years with boys came back to haunt him and he admitted to himself that he can be attracted to both genders. He identified himself as bisexual -without telling anyone of course-, but there was still a problem. Far from the lgbt+ insults he heard from his father at the dinner table when Harry left home, he generally didn't care about the gender anymore, but about the person themselves. He dated girls to reinforce his idea of heterosexuality, but he never worried about gender once he was away from his parents. He did a lot of research on sites and forums -but erased his history in case Sherlock took his computer again without his consent- and finally came to the conclusion that he is pansexual.
Although at first it was quite hard for him to accept it, he has gotten used to this reality and is no longer afraid to date a woman as well as a man or whatever (even though he hasn't been in a relationship since he realized his love for Sherlock).
Back to reality, John steps back to catch his breath. He admires red Sherlock, his eyes still closed, catching his breath. His grip around the doctor is strong, reminding John that they are still above water with a risk of falling in. Besides, his back can't take the position anymore.
"It's not that I hate this position, but I don't want to end up soaked. John mutters ."
Sherlock smiled slightly at him and then stood up with his help. John didn't let him go from his arms though, keeping him against him, his arms around his waist. Sherlock took the opportunity to regain possession of his lips. He could get used to it very quickly.
"Sherlock- Wait, I need to breathe.
-Breathe? Boring."
Definitely get used to it.
"We'd better get back, we won't find anything more there."
Sherlock nods and takes him by the hand to pull him away from the slippery stones.
"Get your things ready, we're taking the first train back to London.
-What?! What about the investigation?
-Solved five hours ago."
John sighs. He's tired of Sherlock's inability to communicate the most important information, like the fact that he solved the case hours ago and can be in Baker Street with a cup of tea, nice and warm, rather than repeatedly coming close to drowning to look for something John doesn't even know what it is.
"Why didn't you tell me before?
-I just wanted to prove a point."
John didn't have time to respond as Sherlock threw himself -literally- on top of him, tipping him onto the grass in a kiss. John responded immediately but Sherlock backed away, staying on top of him.
"We won't be needing the second bedroom anymore."
John answers him by regaining possession of his lips.
Actually, he won't be able to get used to it, but they never liked routine.