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Sherlock plodded up the stairs after John, exhausted from their latest case. He had been shot at while chasing a murderer through the streets of London. John saved the day that time by knocking the murderer out while he was focused on Sherlock. Now all Sherlock was looking forward to was a cup of tea and a nap.

Entering their flat after John, Sherlock had the wind knocked out of him when John rushed at him and pinned him against the wall. John spread his forearm across Sherlock's chest, just under his throat, almost but not quite cutting his air off.

"Damn it, Sherlock," John grated at him. "Why do you keep putting yourself in these positions? You almost died today."

"But we caught the murderer and I yet live," Sherlock answered, perplexed. "What does it matter the small details?"

John sighed, a hollow, tiny sound. His eyes bored deep into Sherlock's as John replied, "God help me, I care about you. It would kill me if you died." Sherlock didn't know how to reply to this, so he said nothing and continued to stare at John. He was horrible at this relating bit anyways. John searched his eyes one final time, sighed again, and dropped his arm. He turned away from Sherlock and Sherlock felt his heart drop out of his chest.

"John, wait," Sherlock said, hesitantly. "I care about you too, you know. If it makes you feel better, I won't do it again." Sherlock placed his hand gently on John's shoulder, hoping that John wouldn't simply walk away now. He realized how much he needed his brave blogger. John turned back to Sherlock and saw what Sherlock had just realized.

Again, the wind was knocked out of him as John pinned him to the wall. This time though, Sherlock welcomed the feel of the soldier's hard body against his. They both breathed hard, chests coming together in time with each other.

"Sherlock, ever since that first case, I've been wanting to do this. But if I start, I'm not gonna be able to stop," John said shakily. Sherlock simply nodded and waited. He never thought that John felt anything more for him than simply friendship. Had never let himself dream, even as he fell, that John would be more than a friend.

Suddenly, John's lips were pressed against his, teasing and tasting. Sherlock kissed him back, hesitantly at first then gaining in confidence. It was hard to say whose mouth opened first, but then Sherlock's tongue was deep in John's mouth and he was moaning. Wrapping his arms around his soldier's waist, Sherlock pulled John closer. John groaned at the feel of their bodies pressed up against each other. His hands drifted up to Sherlock's curly black hair and buried themselves in the glossy locks.

Passionately now, John licked his way around Sherlock's mouth, nipping at his lips and sucking them in between his own. He felt Sherlock's hips start to grind into his own. John smiled and slipped the wool coat from Sherlock's shoulders. His own coat followed, along with Sherlock's scarf. Sherlock impatiently grabbed John's shirt and pulled it up over his head. With John's skin now accessible, Sherlock ran his hands up and down the man's back. John moaned again and arched into Sherlock's hands.

Impatient, John ripped at Sherlock's shirt, scattering buttons on the floor. He ran his fingers up Sherlock's torso, admiring the alabaster skin. Sherlock's hips pumped harder into John's. Sherlock froze, however, when he felt John's hands reach down and take hold of the waistband of his pants.

"John, wait," Sherlock said breathlessly. "I've.... I've never been with anyone else before." John's breath hitched as he heard this and it turned him on more than he could have imagined.

"You mean, I'm the first?" John asked. Sherlock nodded and dropped his eyes, embarassed. John cupped his chin and gently raised his face so that Sherlock could see his smile. He dropped two gentle kisses at the corners of Sherlock's mouth and said, "You can trust me." Sherlock nodded again and allowed John to slip his pants and boxers down. Hesitantly, his hands skimmed down to John's pants and undid the button and zipper. John's pants slowly slid down his legs, followed by his boxers. Then, both men were naked and wrapped in each other's arms. They kissed again, John cupping the back of Sherlock's head, his hands playing with the soft curls. Sherlock relaxed into the embrace and let his hands drift over John's back.

Without warning, John dropped his hands to the back of Sherlock's thighs, picked him up and wrapped his legs around his waist. Sherlock gasped and said, "John, your strength..."

"Shut up, Sherlock," John interrupted him in his Captain voice. "No thinking right now. The only thing I want to hear out of your mouth are moans or my name. Got it?" John rubbed against Sherlock, both men getting even harder at the sound of John's voice.

"Yes, John," Sherlock moaned and started planting kisses and little bites along John's throat. John held him easily, braced up against the wall. Slowly, John maneuvered himself so that he was right outside of Sherlock. He bucked his hips gently and entered Sherlock with a deep gasp. Sherlock groaned and threw his arms around John's shoulders and held on as he rocked slowly with John. The pain he was expecting lasted a single moment and all that was left was pure pleasure at the feel of John inside him.

"You all right?" John asked quietly.

"Yes, it feels wonderful," Sherlock replied. John smiled and started pumping faster, licking into Sherlock's mouth again. Their tongues danced against each other. Sherlock tasted of mint and ice and tea, almost the same way he smelled, John thought. As John drove into Sherlock harder, their bodies met and Sherlock felt his hardness between their bellies. The friction was amazing every time their bodies came together. Throwing his head back, Sherlock forgot how to think as John placed kisses along his neck and collarbone.

John still couldn't believe this was actually happening. His friend, his flatmate, his colleague, in his arms while he was deep inside him. He never thought that Sherlock might return his feelings or might want him. He could feel Sherlock trembling in his arms and treasured the fact that he was the only one who would touch this arrogant detective. The only one who would feel this embrace and shivering. John felt the last defenses in his heart crumbling as he finally accepted the fact he had fallen in love with this self-styled sociopath.

"John, love, something's happening," Sherlock managed to gasp out.

"What's that?" John asked, smiling. Finally, Sherlock said it, said that he loved him.

"I feel tingly and all-wound-up, like a spring." Sherlock replied. "What happens when I break?"

"That's the best part," John said. "Now shut up and enjoy it." He ground harder into Sherlock's hips, their bodies trapping Sherlock. He let loose a deep, guttural moan and felt something explode deep inside him. Sherlock glanced down in surprise at the fluid now coating their bodies, reveling in the slick feel of it. John simply grunted, captured his mouth again and pushed even deeper inside him.

"That is going to make me come very hard inside you," John groaned against Sherlock's mouth.

"I'm sorry?" Sherlock said, hesitantly.

"Don't be," John smiled. "I'm going to enjoy it." He pumped a few more times and felt his release deep inside Sherlock. Sherlock moaned again and couldn't stop saying John's name. Finally, the two stood still, Sherlock's legs around John's waist and John's arms wrapped under Sherlock's legs. With a final gentle kiss, John lowered Sherlock to the floor, but had to catch him before the detective slid bonelessly down.

John walked Sherlock over to their couch and laid him gently down on it. The soldier slid next to the detective and wrapped his arms around him again, drawing him in close. Silence reigned, except for light breathing.

"Sherlock," John said. "You called me love. Do you truly love me?" Sherlock twisted around in John's embrace until he was looking deep into his eyes.

"Of course I do. That's why I said it." Sherlock replied.

"Oh, good." John smiled and kissed the corners of Sherlock's mouth gently. "I love you too."

Sherlock tucked his head under John's chin above his heart and smiled. He felt like he had come home. John tightened his arms around his detective and the two fell asleep, perfectly content.