[ And John's eyes? John's eyes are shut, but he follows the shift in motion, natural. He's letting himself feel this and setting the example. John's not used to being the teacher and there's something attractive in that, the same way there's something fiercely invigorating about charging into the streets when lives are at stake; something he's due to tuck away. He knows he's nothing special, couldn't say what Sherlock saw in him either, but there is something there, something here, between the slow tangle of their tongues and the brush of their bodies.
John stays. Sometimes he knows why and sometimes he doesn't need to. They're two men who are different in almost every aspect and yet, in this strange tug of war, they've found an equilibrium. It's not perfect, but it's... good. For both of them. The balance of power might not be wholly equal, but there's still give in both sides, enough that it works and often works well.
Sherlock is giving now and it is, in fact, what John had wanted all along. It's selfish in a way, but he revels in the moment that he can almost feel the other man's attention wind down to this, just this. Soon, perhaps too soon, they'll be back where they were, entities of logic and emotion, knowledge and experience. But right now, for the first and final time, they're in John's realm. The soldier holds a mad genius in his arms and doesn't doubt, for the moment, that he actually has him. If the groan against Sherlock's mouth is any indication, he's got John too, completely. ]
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John stays. Sometimes he knows why and sometimes he doesn't need to. They're two men who are different in almost every aspect and yet, in this strange tug of war, they've found an equilibrium. It's not perfect, but it's... good. For both of them. The balance of power might not be wholly equal, but there's still give in both sides, enough that it works and often works well.
Sherlock is giving now and it is, in fact, what John had wanted all along. It's selfish in a way, but he revels in the moment that he can almost feel the other man's attention wind down to this, just this. Soon, perhaps too soon, they'll be back where they were, entities of logic and emotion, knowledge and experience. But right now, for the first and final time, they're in John's realm. The soldier holds a mad genius in his arms and doesn't doubt, for the moment, that he actually has him. If the groan against Sherlock's mouth is any indication, he's got John too, completely. ]