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Always, it's always you.

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John was tired, completely and utterly drained. He hadn't slept for three days, he and Sherlock had been on a case since Monday, they were currently sat in their living room, Sherlock's eyes pinned to his laptop whilst John tried with his upmost effort not to doze off as much as his eyes were trying. 

"I don't understand" Sherlock muttered under his breath, a fierce look in his eyes "we've been waiting for him for three days, why has he not visited us yet?" 

John's eyes were dropping as he shrugged and he managed to speak through a yawn "I don't know mate, maybe he's just not bothered" 

"This man has sent multiple threats through our door, insisting that he will come - you think he would just not bother turning up?" 

"I don't know, Sherlock" John rolled his eyes, forcing himself to sit up in his chair "Maybe Lestrade was right, it's probably just a fan" 

"Impossible. We've never had a letter from a fan before" Sherlock stated and John looked at him like he was an absolute idiot. 

"You can't be serious?" He choked out a laugh, nodding his head towards the extremely large bag next to their desk "that bag, is one of twelve, full to the brim with letters" 

"It is?" Sherlock frowned, turning to look at it "I assumed they were rubbish bags" 

"You're an idiot sometimes" 

"and you're extremely grouchy with lack of sleep" Sherlock fired back. 

"Oh, I am sorry. Maybe, if you hadn't have insisted I stay awake for three days I may be able to deal with your ridiculousness"

"Mhm, grouchy and irritated" Sherlock noted, closing his laptop to look over at him "Your pupils are double in size, the dark circles beneath your eyes are a prominent black and you have had a permanent frown on your face since yesterday morning" 

"That is because I am tired, Sherlock. Very, fucking tired" 

"You should sleep, you're no use when you're like this" Sherlock simply said, waving his hand in the air to usher him away. 

"I can't... If I didn't love you, I would fucking hit you, you're so annoying" John stated, standing to his feet in a fit of tiny man rage. 

He stood up, his body weak, he stepped from foot to foot for a second before rolling his eyes and stepping towards Sherlock, kissing him on the forehead. "You need to rest too, even consulting detectives need to sleep" 

"I'll sleep when the case is over, there is no time for humanly functions when the game is on" Sherlock lifted his laptop screen up once again, not bothering to look up at him. 

"You're an impossible man" 
---
The next day, noon, Sherlock and a very tired John were heading to Scotland Yard. John was tracing behind, Sherlock had far too much energy for a man who barely slept. 

Sherlock held the door for John, who simply nodded a thank you and walked in, slowly, he was certain he must have looked like death - maybe even a cast member of the walking dead, his body was drained, he was thankful he had quit his job or he definitely wouldn't survive the day. 

"You slept for seven hours and forty minutes" 
John's head shot up as Sherlock spoke, he nodded, his voice too frightening to speak, he had sounded like a sixty year old man who had smoked sixty cigarettes a day.

Clearly, with older age, his ability to function with less to no sleep was becoming strained. 

"And you're still tired?" 

"Yes" John croaked out, walking ahead through the double doors, walking into an array of police officers all hard at work. 

"Oh" was all Sherlock responded, following John's footsteps. 

"Fuckin' hell, look at the state of ya' " Was all John heard, he refrained from flipping him off and just turning back in the direction he had just came from. 

"- has he seriously kept you up for days for some bloody fan letter?" Lestrade burst out into laughter, enjoying the ridiculousness. 

"Don't" John warned, shaking his head. "I'm ready to rip that perfect face from his body" 

"We've all been there" He grinned, delightfully "So, Sherlock, have you come to tell me that I was right and this whole case was a waste of bloody time?" 

"Not quite" Sherlock spoke, walking past John and letting himself into Lestrade's office.

"Whilst investigating, I happened to come across a website - a fan website for myself and John, there was a forum, where desperate people seek friends and whatnot - on there, is a man, a thirty four year old male named Bradley Turner, his police records indicate he was arrested and imprisoned at the age of twenty one for actual bodily harm, torching several cars and seeking people online to practice his strange obsession with knives" 

"- he has now moved to the fan website, where he is now claiming himself as the new Moriarty and is seeking others as test subjects so he can meet me in person" 

"Jesus Christ" Lestrade gasped, John simply shook his head, he didn't know about that but he was too unbothered to pretend to care. 

"He lives in Birmingham, his address is on the back of this piece of paper, as well as his working place, list of relatives and where he is usually when not at home" Sherlock said, placing a piece of paper onto his desk "the letter wasn't from him, it was just a fan, but this man is extremely dangerous and it would be in your best interest to have a warrant for his arrest out within the next five minutes" 

"Oh, shit, right" Lestrade spoke, still baffled as he grabbed the paper and legged it out his office shouting at everyone to get ready. 

John took his chance, he slumped down into the chair opposite the desk and rested his head back with a grateful sigh. "So, this case it's over now?" 

"Yes, John" Sherlock said, smiling slightly as he walked beside him, his arm brushing John's ever so slightly. 

And John didn't expect his body to tingle at the most platonic touch possible, a shiver pushing down his spine - the truth was, kissing and cuddling Sherlock Holmes was beyond anything he could have wished for, of course, only being in the comfort of their own home and also being the only thing they did do.

But even so, John was a man, a man who was completely and utterly besotted by his room mate and on more than one occasion he found himself fantasising about his hands.

He was frustrated, to say the least.

Sherlock stood behind him, placing his arms around John's shoulders, hugging him from behind and resting his head on his shoulder.

The public display of affection surprised him, of course they were hidden inside this office but still, it was somewhere other than their little flat.

"I know I said we could finally go on that date you talked about but I have a mandatory visit with my brother this evening and you also agreed to meet with your sister for drinks, so we should rain check for this weekend" 

"Okay, love" John nodded, his eyes closing as he rested his head against Sherlock's, he could have easily fell asleep right there. 

"Alright lads, the deed is-" Lestrade began, however stopped when seeing the two men in front of him. John physically froze, expecting Sherlock to pull away from him however, he didn't. 

Sherlock lifted his head, resting his chin on top of John's head and looked at Lestrade as if this was a completely normal situation.

"The deed is?" Sherlock pushed.

"The deed is done, ah, yeah, he should be in custody within the next hour or so - is this a new thing? You two? Or?"

"Right, as that's done with" Sherlock stated, slowly removing his body from around John's. he stood up, extending his hand in John's direction "Shall we go home?" 

John bit his lip, looking between Sherlock's hand and Lestrade who was looking at them with an amazed look in his eye. He nodded, holding his hand out for Sherlock who laced his fingers through them and pulled them out of the office and into the now silent room. 

"Bye Greg" John said, ignoring the stares from the officers around him as Sherlock kept his hand firmly laced with his own. 

He was surprised that Sherlock kept a grip on his hand, even when they had left the building and were walking extremely exposed towards the taxi rank ahead, a lot of eyes on them. 

"Are you okay, Sherlock?" John asked. 

"Yes, perfectly fine" Sherlock smiled, and god, he was adorable. 

---

The next day, they found themselves running through the streets of London, chasing after a man who had just arrived at their flat with a gun, obviously upset that they had contacted the police and had his friend Bradley arrested.

However, John being the army man he was, had managed to remove the gun from the man and they were now chasing him after he had fled from their flat in a fit of panic, Sherlock had already alerted Lestrade, letting him know of their location as they ran.

John was knackered, he was getting too old for all this chasing and running - he was clearly struggling, less to be said for his younger room mate, who was running along with not a single gasp for breath. They head into an alley, watching as the man jumped over the fence and that was John's final straw.

"Nope, no, not doing it" He announced, coming to a halt, his body bending over, his hands resting on his thighs as he attempted to catch his breath. "I am not jumping over that bloody fence, not a chance"

Sherlock eventually stilled as he reached the fence, refraining from jumping over. He sighed, pulling the phone to his ear that still had Lestrade talking away "we've lost him, it's your turn now - he's heading to Regent street"

And he ended the call, placing his phone into his jacket pocket. He turned around smiling as he saw John clearly struggling as he stood in the middle of the alley in a fit of unsteady breaths, Sherlock's own chest was heaving, he was slightly less capable than he once was.

"Jesus... I'm not that fucking agile anymore, I can't be chasing criminals with you" John said through a heaving chest, as his eyes flickered up to look at Sherlock who was simply stood watching him.

"You managed to run for three miles, John. You're not that unfit" Sherlock stated, slowly walking over to him.

"Yes, I struggled the entire time" John let out a breathy chuckle. Standing up straight, slowly catching his breath, very slowly.

"Okay, stop complaining John" Sherlock rolled his eyes, not only a step away from him. "You're tedious when you complain"

"Oh, alright then, I do apologise" voice trailed with sarcasm, looking at Sherlock through his eyelashes.

When he did, he noticed the change in Sherlock's eyes, no longer sparkling - his pupils dilated, almost as though they had changed colour to a jet black colour. John was startled, stepping back slightly, noting how Sherlock followed his step.

"Are you okay?" John frowned, still stepping away.

Sherlock didn't speak, he simply followed John's steps until John had backed completely up against the hard brick wall. And if John didn't know better, he would think that Sherlock was coming onto him.

Sherlock's arms reached out, his hands either side of of John's head and John's breath hitched in the back of his throat.

"Can I try something?" Sherlock asked, his voice raspy and unrecognisable- only to be described as lustful.

John nodded, his eyes closing momentarily as he awaited Sherlock's next move, one hand had moved from the side of his head and was now grasping John's cheek, tilting his chin up. John's eyes were intimate, only focusing on the proximity of the two and how the blood was rushing through his body. His lips parted slightly and Sherlock's thumb reached to stroke against his bottom lip, the feel sent shivers through his body, heating from the simple touch.

Sherlock soon bowed his neck and replaced his thumb with his own lips, feeling no more than a brush against the sensitive skin as they lingered mesmerisingly and John couldn't stop the sweet moan that escaped him. The sound obviously affecting Sherlock as both hands soon cupped John's face and the kiss became strong and firm, John could finally find it in him to respond, his own lips at battle with his. Sherlock thrust his tongue forward, seeking the attention of John's own which John easily complied - the kiss was full of want and need, more on John's side, more of an experiment for Sherlock.

John's hand grasped Sherlock's beautiful purple dress shirt, closing off the small distance between them both until chests slammed against one another. The kisses were sloppy and needing, however, John didn't expect Sherlock to thrust his hips into his. A gasp escaped John's mouth, his mouth wide as he felt the heat and the shape of Sherlock's growing erection against his own.

"We're in public, Sherlock" John attempted to protest, leaning his head back as Sherlock's lips kissed and his teeth nipped at the skin beneath his ear. A clear answer that Sherlock didn't care, not in the slightest.

John took that as a sign to push this, his hand squirmed beneath their chests until his hand covered Sherlock's bulge, his hand grasping, it was like music to his ears as Sherlock's head nestled into John's neck and the sweet moan escaped his lips.

He continued to rub his hand over his bulge, entranced by the way Sherlock let out the sweetest moans against John's neck, the vibrations sending shivers down his spine.

"Wow" John managed to say, he really was mesmerised by the younger man and how he responded in the grasp of his hands.

Sherlock let out what only could be described as a growl as his mouth claimed John's again, Sherlock's hips began to rock and thrust against John's hand forcing the extra closeness he very much wanted.

"More" Sherlock near growled against John's lips.

John didn't know what he wanted, he didn't know what was too far or what over stepped the mark - this whole situation was something he didn't see happening for a while, let alone in some dark alley in the midst of London.

He definitely didn't expect Sherlock's own hands to reach between them, neither did he expect his fingers to work at the zip of John's suddenly very tight jeans.

"Sherlock, as much as I want to do this, we're out in public and-"

No chance of finishing that sentence - Sherlock's hand gripped onto his own erection, his long, slender fingers wrapping around it in a sense of urgency.

"Jesus, fucking Christ" John gasped and bucked against him, the feel of Sherlock's large hand around him sent utter sensation through his body.

"Is this okay?" Sherlock muttered, biting on John's lower lip, his hand now moving at a desperate speed up and down John's length.

"Yes, fuck, god yes" John choked out, his hand attempting to open the button of Sherlock's trousers and struggling miserably. "Can you- can you just give me a second?"

Sherlock shifted back slightly, his mouth concentrating on biting any free skin he could find on John's neck until John had freed him of his tight trousers.

Sherlock swatted John's hand away, pushing himself closer to him so their cocks aligned with one another and then in one swift movement his hand was suddenly grasped around the two of them, his thumb grazing over the head of John's cock, John gasped, leaning his head back against the hard brick wall.

Sherlock's long fingers were no match for John's own, his palms big enough to cover and pleasure them both.

"Shit, Sherlock" John moaned, his mouth ajar and his eyes closed as he nestled into the utter pleasure.

"Yes, this is, yes" was all Sherlock managed to say, a change from his usual self. His strokes fast and needing, wanting to feel John release over him as he did the same. All John could do was nod, one of his free hands reaching up to lace his fingers through Sherlock's unruly curls.

John was close, so very close and he knew Sherlock was the same, his rhythm slowly coming to sloppy pattern, just wanting and his eyes had fluttered shut. John was unravelling against him, his body tingling as the sensation took over his body.

"Now, John" Sherlock said with a nip on John's throat and the feel sent John's body into melt down, a few sloppy thrusts more and his head fell back, the orgasm flurrying from him, Sherlock's name repeatedly falling from his lips.

Sherlock's hand was slick and wet, his and John's come covering it, he let out a sweet moan. His head falling sloppily into John's neck with a sigh, they stayed there, a combination of heavy breathing and profanity's falling from John's mouth as they returned from euphoria.

"Wow" Sherlock choked out, leaning back and shuffling his hand into the pocket of his jacket soon retrieving a handkerchief. He peered down at John, who was gone, his breathing rapid and his eyes still closed as he leant against the wall - he reached down, cleaning the both of them and his hand as best as he could before throwing it into the near by bin.

He stepped back slightly, pulling both his own boxers and jeans up as he watched John return to his natural state. He looked up at him and smiled, his eyes full of fond as he looked at the man he had learnt to love so dearly.

"Jesus, Sherlock. I wasn't expecting that" John sighed, his eyes slowly opening to look at him, a chuffed smile across his lips.

"Yes, well, it definitely escalated rather quickly" Sherlock nodded, stepping forward to help him with the zip of his jeans, also leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to John's now swollen lips. His eyes scattering to the marks he had left along his skin, wanting nothing more than to bite on them over and over.

"Our first ever... you know" John chuckled "and it's in a bloody alleyway, only you, of course"

"Well, I do apologise, I don't know what came over me" Sherlock muttered an apology, standing back once again to adjust himself.

"No, don't it's fine, no need to apologise"

"I assume we should be getting back to the flat" Sherlock spoke chastely.

"Yes, of course. Let's go" John nodded, baffled by the whole situation.

Sherlock smiled, reaching his hand out for John who gladly took it, lacing his fingers around his own and allowing him to lead him back out of the dirty alley and towards the busy streets of London, not a single person knowing what they had been up to only a few minutes prior.

---

"Today was interesting" John stated, taking a sip of his wine, now on his third glass.

Sherlock nodded, finishing his fork full of linguine with a smile. They had agreed to a date night at Angelo's, finally and John couldn't have seen it any more perfect than what is was - if he wasn't in love with Sherlock, he most definitely was now, more so in fact. He was utterly besotted by him.

"Indeed it was" Sherlock finally replied, taking a swig of his own drink.

"So, we're really doing this then"

"What? I thought we already established our relationship?" Sherlock tilted his head, his eyes furrowing into a look of confusion.

"Yes, of course, it's just I wasn't sure what this relationship would actually mean, I didn't know where you drew the line and whatnot"

"Oh, John. I have no line when it comes to you, you have already over stepped the mark on several occasions and I loved it every time. With you, it's much different to anyone else I have found myself with before"

"Oh?"

"You see" Sherlock began, wiping his mouth before placing a hand on John's thigh "It's you, you make me human, so to speak - I have been very... well, very nervous to take further steps in our relationship not because it's new, but because I am extremely inexperienced. But, today, all I could see was you and how badly I wanted you in that very moment and that is not something I am used to"

"So" John attempted to speak, mesmerised by his words "you're nervous because you're inexperienced? Because from today I wouldn't believe that for a single bloody second"

"That's because I am comfortable with you. I don't want you to think there is some clause to this relationship, there will never be a limit when it comes to you, John Watson. I want you, all of you and everything that comes with it"

"So, we're just, you know, boyfriends?"

Sherlock let out a dry chuckle, his eyes soft "Yes, John, we are boyfriends if we're going to use that term. I am very much in love with you and you have said on multiple occasions that you feel the same"

"Okay" John nodded, his eyes flickering to his hands placed on his lap as the smile spread across his lips. He bit down on his bottom lip, attempting to stifle in the growing smile.

"I mean it, I love you, very much and I want to learn" Sherlock spoke firmly "I want to learn what love is, as all I know at the moment is that to me, you're the definition of love"

Sherlock's free hand moved, his fingertips pinching at John's chin to lift his head, his eyes gazed onto his own and he smiled, a soft, sweet and fond smile, one that fluttered his heart in every way possible.

"Always, John Watson"