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kinkykittenTitle: Could Be Dangerous
Fandom: BBC Sherlock
Pairings/Characters: John+Sherlock, John, Sherlock, Mycroft
Rating: R
Kink: Danger
Summary: John's pov of his first day with Sherlock
Note: Thank you Gilly for betaing for me =3
John knew he was attracted to danger. It was secretly one of the reasons he joined the army in the first place, and why he always took more risks then he had to. They just thought he was cocky, when in truth he was searching for the heart-pounding thrill that only combat can give.
Then he got shot, and was sent home to London.
The doldrums of civilian life leeched his energy, and he found himself aimless. His therapist wanted him to talk about it. How could he tell her he missed the gunfire? She wouldn’t understand, and he was already sick of pity.
Just when he’d reached the point where he couldn’t take it anymore, John met the most brilliant man he had ever known. Sherlock was dazzling in his intelligence, and with no care for safety or proper behavior Sherlock went after whatever caught his eye.
They’d barely looked over the flat, and suddenly Sherlock was dragging him to the crime scene of a mysterious murder. There were cops and lines of caution tape all over, and people looked at him like he was insane for following Sherlock.
They warned him that Sherlock was dangerous, which only made his desire to follow Sherlock grow.
Within minutes of looking over the crime scene he was politely kidnapped, and brought to a warehouse. He was warned again by the pompous ginger, and then offered money to spy on Sherlock, who later took the news in stride, even advising him to take the bribe next time. It was as exciting as it was head-spinning, and John realized he felt truly alive for the first time since leaving Afghanistan.
The night only got more insane from there, leaving him laughing along with a self-proclaimed sociopath over the asses they’d made of themselves chasing a taxi through London. He was bonding with a man who got off on murder, and having the time of his life.
The climax that night was still to come when he hunted down Sherlock, who had run off with a serial killer. John found himself watching from a window as Sherlock was about to do something so insanely stupid that John knew he should have felt sick. He only felt his excitement grow more.
For one brief moment he knew that Sherlock was going to take the pill offered by the serial killer, and then his blazing brilliance would disappear from John’s life.
It didn’t take much, and John was a good shot. The serial killer was down, and John was soon giggling in the middle of a police investigation where he was the culprit and a murderer, and he didn’t care because Sherlock was impressed with him.
Sherlock was dangerous, and John loved it. He loved it more than dodging bullets in Afghanistan, and far more than quiet days with loved ones.
John couldn’t think less of Sherlock if he really did get off on scenes of murder, because he himself clearly got off on being in the middle of a whirlwind of danger. He could run his mind over the memories of the risks he took and survived, and find himself harder than a rock.
He could remember the moment he’d realized that Mycroft could have him taken care of all too easily, wiped away like a simple smudge, and his hand would speed up on his cock.
He could see the way Sherlock looked down at everyone in a way that lacked normal human empathy, and yet would chase criminals with him and laugh like old friends.
It was hotter than anything he’d encountered before, and the memories left him gasping and shaking in his sheets.
This new life was insane and dangerous, and it could-likely would- be the death of John.
He couldn’t be happier.
Fandom: BBC Sherlock
Pairings/Characters: John+Sherlock, John, Sherlock, Mycroft
Rating: R
Kink: Danger
Summary: John's pov of his first day with Sherlock
Note: Thank you Gilly for betaing for me =3
John knew he was attracted to danger. It was secretly one of the reasons he joined the army in the first place, and why he always took more risks then he had to. They just thought he was cocky, when in truth he was searching for the heart-pounding thrill that only combat can give.
Then he got shot, and was sent home to London.
The doldrums of civilian life leeched his energy, and he found himself aimless. His therapist wanted him to talk about it. How could he tell her he missed the gunfire? She wouldn’t understand, and he was already sick of pity.
Just when he’d reached the point where he couldn’t take it anymore, John met the most brilliant man he had ever known. Sherlock was dazzling in his intelligence, and with no care for safety or proper behavior Sherlock went after whatever caught his eye.
They’d barely looked over the flat, and suddenly Sherlock was dragging him to the crime scene of a mysterious murder. There were cops and lines of caution tape all over, and people looked at him like he was insane for following Sherlock.
They warned him that Sherlock was dangerous, which only made his desire to follow Sherlock grow.
Within minutes of looking over the crime scene he was politely kidnapped, and brought to a warehouse. He was warned again by the pompous ginger, and then offered money to spy on Sherlock, who later took the news in stride, even advising him to take the bribe next time. It was as exciting as it was head-spinning, and John realized he felt truly alive for the first time since leaving Afghanistan.
The night only got more insane from there, leaving him laughing along with a self-proclaimed sociopath over the asses they’d made of themselves chasing a taxi through London. He was bonding with a man who got off on murder, and having the time of his life.
The climax that night was still to come when he hunted down Sherlock, who had run off with a serial killer. John found himself watching from a window as Sherlock was about to do something so insanely stupid that John knew he should have felt sick. He only felt his excitement grow more.
For one brief moment he knew that Sherlock was going to take the pill offered by the serial killer, and then his blazing brilliance would disappear from John’s life.
It didn’t take much, and John was a good shot. The serial killer was down, and John was soon giggling in the middle of a police investigation where he was the culprit and a murderer, and he didn’t care because Sherlock was impressed with him.
Sherlock was dangerous, and John loved it. He loved it more than dodging bullets in Afghanistan, and far more than quiet days with loved ones.
John couldn’t think less of Sherlock if he really did get off on scenes of murder, because he himself clearly got off on being in the middle of a whirlwind of danger. He could run his mind over the memories of the risks he took and survived, and find himself harder than a rock.
He could remember the moment he’d realized that Mycroft could have him taken care of all too easily, wiped away like a simple smudge, and his hand would speed up on his cock.
He could see the way Sherlock looked down at everyone in a way that lacked normal human empathy, and yet would chase criminals with him and laugh like old friends.
It was hotter than anything he’d encountered before, and the memories left him gasping and shaking in his sheets.
This new life was insane and dangerous, and it could-likely would- be the death of John.
He couldn’t be happier.
