The Thrill of the Chase (Johnlock/Mystrade Teen!Lock)

Chapter Eight

(A/N- Just a thought, but isn't the hashtag " #SherlockLives " a bit ironic? Because I don't know about you, my lovelies, but Sherlock is killing me softly haha. Anyway, please comment/vote/share if you enjoy this so far!

-CH xx )

Chapter 8

John’s POV

Mary. That girl I was going out with. Yeah, I had forgotten about her, and forgot to break up with her. The reminder of that came just after Sherlock and I had told each other we love the other for the first time.

A knock on the door had brought us out of our lovers moment, and I groaned and got up to answer it, even though Sherlock pulled on my arm to stop me. I figured it would be one of our friends, but of course, it wasn’t. It was Mary.

“Mary… Hey,” I said, looking at her confusedly for a moment, but then I remembered, she was my girlfriend.

“Is everything alright? You haven’t spoken to me in a while,” Mary said, looking rather worried.

“Yeah, erm, Mary, there’s something I should tell you. Erm, I can’t do this anymore,” I never really was ever good with breakups.

“Can’t do what, John?”

“I can’t be with you. I’m sorry. It’s not you-“

“-It’s me. Yes, yes, I know the saying, John.”

“I’m sorry,” with that, Mary turned on her heel, with tears in her eyes, and stormed off.

I closed the door and turned back to my curly haired boyfriend, who had stood up, and soon wrapped his arms around my waist, resting his chin on top of my head. “Do you regret doing that?” He asked me curiously.

“I regret that I had to do it, since I hate to break up with girls, but I’m glad I did it, now we’re not doing anything wrong.”

Sherlock kissed the top of my head. “I meant what I said, John. I really do love you.”

“And I love you too, Sherlock.”

Sherlock ducked his head down to be at level with mine, and pressed his cupid bow lips against mine. My arms slid around Sherlock’s neck, to play with the curls at the nape of his neck, while his hands slid around my waist. Our bodies pressed together, and I could feel Sherlock’s warmth mingle with my own as we kissed heatedly. Sherlock’s hands left my waist, and travelled slowly down along the back of my thighs. I gasped as he picked me up, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, so we were the same height. Sherlock pressed me against the wall, never once parting from our kiss, but then he moved his lips from mine, and began to kiss my neck softly. He then began to nip and suck at a sensitive spot on my neck, causing me to moan. As I moaned, I could feel Sherlock smirk against my neck, and my fingers pulled on his hair.

“You know,” I panted, “you’re… very good… at this… for a beginner.”

“Thanks, John,” Sherlock said, equally out of breath. Sherlock carried me over to my bed, and gently dropped me onto it, before lying down beside me.

We lay there for a while, just lost in our own thoughts, in a comfortable silence.

If you had told me five months earlier that I would be dating another male, who just so happened to be a gorgeous, genius, sociopath, I probably would’ve slammed the door in your face with a laugh faster than Sherlock can insult Anderson – which is very fast indeed – and disregarded it immediately. Yet here I was, lying next to the most perfect man ever, with zero regrets about it.

Suddenly, Sherlock began to heartily laugh. I had never heard such a beautiful sound leave his mouth (aside from him groaning, but you know what I mean!), it was so deep and raw and I loved it.

“What’re you laughing about?” I asked him.

“I was just… thinking the same… thing,” he said in between laughs.

“You were thinking about why you were laughing so you began laughing?” I asked, confusedly.

“No, idiot,” Sherlock laughed harder. “I was just thinking that if five… months ago someone told me… that I’d be lying next to the most… perfect person, who made me care about someone… other than myself, I would’ve slammed… the door in… their face too.”

I turned to look at my boyfriend who continued laughing, a disbelieving look on my face. “How did you know I was thinking that?!”

“Because… you said it… aloud.”

A blush crept onto my face, so I buried my head into Sherlock’s side as he continued laughing. His laughing became contagious, and soon I was laughing with him. We laughed so hard that we rolled off of my bed, and I landed on my back, with Sherlock on top of me, looking down into my eyes. Our laughter immediately died down, as we continued to look at each other. I found I was losing myself in his green and blue eyes, that seemed to be as deep as galaxies.

“You know,” Sherlock said quietly, “you’re the first person to ever properly look me in the eyes. Everyone else feels intimidated and looks away.”

“That’s their loss then, because never in my life have I seen such beautiful eyes on a beautiful person.”

Sherlock snorted. “Beautiful? Please, John. I am not beautiful.”

“What are you, then?”

“Handsome, gorgeous, charming, amazing, exotic. I could go on, but you’ve already used the best words to describe me.”

I felt a blush come to my cheeks. “Yeah, well, I’ve heard about your past, and what you’ve been through. I will tell you everyday what I think of you, if it will somehow make up for all of that.”

“Thank you,” Sherlock whispered, pressing his lips against mine gently.

Everything I said had been true. I had heard about things that happened to Sherlock, like how he was mercilessly bullied at his old school, and how he had been using drugs and whatever else. I would tell him everyday just what he meant to me, if it would make up for everything else.