To the Ends of this Earth

Chapter Three

A taxi had quickly been hailed and John and Sherlock had taken off speedily towards their destination.
Sherlock was sitting rather close to John in their taxi, and John couldn't stop his heart from racing fiercely, his breaths were short and he wanted nothing more than to grab Sherlock's face roughly and kiss him until their wasn't enough breath for the both of them. He closed his eyes, envisioning how Sherlock's beautiful soft lips would feel against his, how his sinewy arms would wrap around his back, pulling him closer and -
"Ugnn," whispered John, so lost in his temporary daydream that he forgot where he was. Sherlock tensed beside him.
"John?" He inquired, tilting to look at the doctor with a slightly mischievous look on his face.
John's eyes snapped open, his face turning bright crimson red. "I-I-I was just thinking about something," he stuttered, trying to cover for the involuntary noise that he had made.
"Clearly," Sherlock said in his deep baritone voice, slightly amused.
John shifted uncomfortably, trying to scoot a little further away from Sherlock, but he grabbed his wrist. John gasped at the electricity that he felt shooting up his arm at Sherlock's right grip.
"What were you thinking about John?" Sherlock's stared piercingly into John's eyes, searching.
John was temporarily frozen, the tops of his ears were white hot, and he could feel his heart fluttering like a hummingbirds wings. He went to answer but his breath caught in his throat, Sherlock could never know, never. Rejection was inevitable, Sherlock was a sociopath for gods sake.
Sherlock was scanning John's face, and couldn't help noticing how wide John's pupils were. It could just be a trick of the light however, it was very dark inside the cab. His slender fingers were gripping John's wrist tightly, he would have to move his hand to get a pulse, and then John would most definitely know what he was trying to figure out. Suddenly there was a loud clearing of a throat, Sherlock hadn't even noticed that the car had stopped moving. He sat there a minute longer just staring into John's stormy gaze before he was forced to look away, he had to pay the cabbie and he couldn't trust what he might do if he was allowed to look at John's adorable little face any longer.
He let go of John and stepped out of the cab, leaving a breathless Doctor Watson in the back seat.

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John felt drained, he was not only emotionally exhausted from constantly feeling like a small bird on cocaine when he was around Sherlock, but also physically from how erratic his heart was beating, one minute fluttering like crazy, the next skipping a beat and the moment after that it felt like it was going to climb up his throat. It was an amazing feeling, and a horrible one because the electricity was always accompanied by a small sense of loss, always knowing that Sherlock would never feel the same way.
"John, why are you so quiet?" Said Sherlock, as they walked down back allies and climbed up fire escapes.
"What?" slurred John, not having talked for at least thirty minutes. He quickly cleared his throat.
"I said-"
"I know what you said."
"Well answer me then,"
"What in the bloody hell was that back there Sherlock?" John stopped on the cobblestone, throwing up his hands in an angry gesture.
"Back where?" said Sherlock, knowing full well where John meant.
"In the taxi Sherlock! Why did you grab my wrist!" John was very close to yelling now, his voice just an octave below his signature angry shout.
"John, I just-" Sherlock paused, he wasn't actually sure what he was going to say and none of the excuses that he'd come up with seemed like they were appropriate. He sighed, deciding to tell John the truth. "I was trying to take your pulse."
"Why would you want to-" quick as a flash, realization dawned on John and it hit him like a kick in the gut. "Oh, god-" he grabbed his wrist and drew his hand swiftly towards his chest like it would undo what Sherlock had been looking for.
"Don't worry John, I couldn't get to your pulse. The way you were looking at me was-" Sherlock paused again, the truth was that no one had really looked at him like that before, it was like John was really seeing him, like he could know everything about him with just a single look. It made him want to be a better person.
John gulped audibly. "Was what?"
"It was interesting," said Sherlock briskly, covering his internal thoughts with a few cleverly placed vowels. He spun around, and began walking again. "We need to get going."
John paused a moment, and followed, letting out a big rush of breath that he hadn't even noticed he was holding.

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There's a big chapter for you all! It's the longest that I've written so far, I hope you enjoyed it! Remember that I write these just as much for you as I do for me so I'd LOVE to hear what you thought of it in the comments! I know I'm not really an important writer on wattpad but please don't let that stop you from telling me what you think. I love all my readers!

Anyways, I'm going to keep trying to update often but sometimes it takes me awhile to think of where to take the story next. I'm pretty proud of this chapter, and I will get the next one out soon. (If you're exited for it though let me know, and it will probably get out sooner!)

xx
-Johnlox