Just Some Johnlock Oneshots

Rainy Night in London

Once again this stunning art isn't mine! Oh and I should mention that this is pretty steamy compared to what I normally write, but I definitely wouldn't consider it smut. 

"No, John! We could get caught!" Sherlock whispered loudly to be heard over the pouring rain. 

John didn't listen and continued to press the detective against the brick wall of a narrow alley. The street lamps had just been lit, but the glow didn't reach the dark corner the men stood in. The doctor dove his mouth against Sherlock's, keeping the taller man against the wall with his body. As they shared breaths, the clopping of horse drawn carriages could be heard, mingling with the pitter patter of the rain.  

Coming to his senses, Sherlock broke the contact between their lips and gently pushed John back with a firm hand on either shoulder. His icy eyes bore deeply into John's, making the blond bit his mustache covered lip in desire. 

"It's time to return home, Watson," Sherlock spoke, struggling to keep his voice even. John was so tempted to just take what he wanted here in this dirty alley. The thrill of being in public, possibly being caught. But he knew that his beloved Sherlock wouldn't like that, and he never wants to do anything to displease him. So Watson settled on a single nod of his head and the men strode out of the alley, an acceptable distance between them. 

Sherlock's body was still humming with the feeling of John pressed against him, but he was also still shaking with fear. If anyone had seen what had happened in the alley, they could be thrown in jail or worse! Sherlock's brain would rot in prison and he would be separated from the love of his life. John meant everything to him. If he lost his precious Watson, he doesn't know what he would do. 

Holmes shook his head to rid his mind of these thoughts, and instead focused on the case he had just solved. It was an interesting robbery of an extremely wealthy family that ended with the man of the house being brutally murdered with a blunt knife. 

"Stop thinking," John commanded from beside him. Their shoes made a satisfying clicking as they walked along the cobblestone streets. The shorter man brushed his hand against his companion's in hopes of calming the man's racing mind. He loved making his detective's brain shut off.  

Sherlock sighed. "It's not that easy." 

The doctor smiled up at his lover and chuckled. Sherlock gave him a confused expression. John shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know what it is, Sherlock. Sometimes I just realize how much I love you."

That turned the detective's face a beautiful shade of red, and John imagined the cool raindrops steaming as they trailed down Sherlock's hot skin. "I love you too, John," he muttered. 

"I know." The blond stepped a few paces ahead of Sherlock. "Now pick up the pace, I can't wait to get home," John shot a wink at the man from over his shoulder, relishing that he made Sherlock's blush deepen. 

"You're going to be the death of me, Watson," the detective mumbled under his breath. 

John chuckled. "Not yet, I need you alive for what I have planned." 

... 

The companions finally returned to the entrance of their flat and did the best they could to wring the water out of their dripping coats. They both just laughed when they realized the water was never ending. 

Opening the door to 221 B, they shed their soaking layers and lit a warm fire. Stripped down to their underwear, John started a pot of tea and Sherlock grabbed a few thick blankets from a cupboard. Once the tea was ready, the doctor joined his lover who was lounging in front of the orange flames. 

"Here you are, love," John spoke gently, handing a delicate tea cup to Sherlock who was deep in his mind. Sherlock broke out of this thoughts and accepted the steaming drink with a warm smile. John laid down on the floor, propping himself up on an elbow to face Sherlock. The curly haired detective scooched closer to his John so that there were only a few inches between them. All John could think was how beautiful Sherlock looked with the fire blazing behind him. The volume of his dark hair was accentuated in the flickering light, and John could make out every delicious curve of Sherlock's pale body that was painted with shadows and highlights.

"What are you thinking about?" Sherlock smiled.

The blond brought his lips to Sherlock's for a moment before answering. "Just how beautiful you are and how much I absolutely adore you."

Sherlock's porcelain cheeks and chest blossomed a light red, causing the other man to smirk. John quickly drank the last few sips of his tea before gently setting it to the side. He moved even closer to his lover so that their chests were brushing. The doctor lowered his head to Sherlock's neck and began leaving soft kisses along the smooth skin. Sherlock's breath hitched and he instantly set his tea down. His slender hands instead delicately ran though John's sandy blond hair.

"John," he hummed. John's mustache lightly brushed across the thin skin the man marked, causing Sherlock to quiver in response.

John lifted his face to finally take Sherlock's lips in his. The brunet responded enthusiastically and cupped John's face in his hands. John let his hands trail downwards across Sherlock's toned torso into the waistband of the detective's underwear. Sherlock moaned quietly and dropped his head to rest on John's chest.

"You make me such a mess, Sherlock. The things I want to do to you. And not just in our flat. You tempt me every moment we are together," John whispered raggedly in the other man's ear. Sherlock let out a soft whimper in response. "You're so damn brilliant and gorgeous that I can't control myself. I love you Sherlock."

Sherlock tilted his head back so he could lock eyes with John. "You make me brilliant. Without you I'm just a machine. You bring out the good in me. And I love that and more about you."

After a few more heated kisses, Sherlock couldn't take it anymore and gently pulled John on top of him. The lovers remained in each other's embrace for hours until Sherlock began to look sleepy. John carried him to their room and tucked him into bed. The doctor settled in beside him, bringing Sherlock close to him.

He whispered against Sherlock's skin "I love you" before drifting off to sleep.