Sherlock; Heartfelt Lies

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A/N: I'm sorry of this is short, I'm not used to writing long chapters yet. Hopefully this goes well, enjoy -NH

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John P.O.V

"Sherlock bloody Holmes!" I shouted after Sherlock, who was already sprinting off, several feet ahead.

"No time to chat John, the chase has begun!" Sherlock threw back with glee. Why could I not keep up? Time must not be wasted when there is so much fun to be had, especially with this crazy bastard.

That's when I lost sight of him.

Yet again, Sherlock Holmes has ran off, damn him! Bloody sociapath. Stupid leg. Ugh! Yet, every moment was worth it, every second of each game; Sherlock may be a sociapath, but I am, undeniably, a flat out adrenaline junkie, and Sherlock, a very addictive source.

Sherlock, with his cold eyes as deep as the ocean, his cheekbones as sharp as ice, sculptured by a God, which only became more prominent when his dark curls fell onto his albaster forehead. Definitely made by a God.

Wait, what? This is Sherlock, my best friend Sherlock. Plus I'm straight.

The game most certainty is on.

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Sherlock P.O.V

"John! You were absolutely brilliant! Well done." I praised John with a rather large smirk upon my lips. After all, it wasn't that often someone risked their life for me. Somehow John seemed to have done so a number of times since we'd met, and it never failed to bring me this warm feeling I cannot yet place. My John. No, not my John! Not sentiment, not caring and not these new feelings John kept bringing out in me. Yet this wasn't enough, my body betraying me as my heart thudded loudly in my chest.

"No, Sherlock, you were the brilliant one. The bloody cook. Only you could deduce that."

A bright red flushed up from my neck into my cheeks and ears, as usual John was being, well John. "Thank you John," I said, a smile playing on the edge of my lips, "I am grateful of your kind words, but it won't shock you to know that due to my deduction skills, I am quite aware that I am brilliant." I allowed myself to smirk, laughter reaching my eyes as John snorted at my aloof manner.

"Arrogant sod," John burst out laughing still high on the thrill of the chase. "But still my arrogant sod." He flushed a deep red, swallowing deeply.

"Shower. Back in a minute." John croaked out, fleeing from the room. The bathroom door slammed shut and I heard the faint tell tale scrape of him dragging the bolt into place.

I let out a large sigh, throwing myself onto the sofa in a fetal position. Why did John have to back away now, everything could have gone beautifully if he hadn't ran off. As I faced this internal debate, a plan formed in my mind, one that would ensure my good doctor understands my intentions.

A new game has begun.

While in deep thought about how to handle the newly presented situation, I noticed that John returned exactly eight minutes and forty two seconds later, smelling freshly of shower gel and shampoo. He walked into the kitchen and put the kettle on, his back facing my observant *longing* gaze.

"Erm... John?"

"Yes Sherlock?"

"You've, erm, you seem to have forgotten something."

John looking down, noticing that he was still in his towel. Only his towel. Suddenly, I found it hard to breathe properly.

"Oh shit!" He muttered, his face flushing a deep red. He turned to look at me, a grim smile playing on his lips.

"No, don't worry about it John. You've nothing to be embarrassed about." His eyes flickered to my face, scanning to see if I was being serious.

"Well, erm.. I'll just... Tea?"

"Yes please." I muttered politely, my mind already thinking about how to get John to display his true feelings, whatever they may be.

John P.O.V

"Okay." I replied, even though Sherlock had clearly already retreated into his mind palace.

I turned to finish making the tea, not really thinking about it. No, my mind had left when Sherlock spoke those words with... admiration? In his voice.

Okay, I knew that Sherlock had no shame when it came to his body, he sat in Buckingham Palace with no more than a sheet on for Christ's sake, but to notice someone else's? I didn't think Sherlock would have an opinion, only an observation. I felt the heat rise into my cheeks yet again as I realised he would have seen my scar.

"John?" I hummed in response when he spoke my name, an odd feeling fluttering in my chest.

"Remember when we went to Angelo's, and I told you that I consider myself married to my work? Well, you're a part of the work and I'm not as uninterested as I may have originally given you the impression of." I looked up as he said all of this in a single breath. His eyes locked onto mine, drawing me in. Before I knew it, I was stood infront of Sherlock, the tea long forgotten.

"Sherlock, please tell me that you mean this. That what you say you feel is real, because if it isn't I d-" My speech was cut short when Sherlock's lips met mine. The kiss was soft and short, I touched my lips, unable to talk after the sudden turn of relationship.

"Now John, do you still doubt me?"

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A/N: Okay, so good or bad? Please comment and tell me what I could improve on, (if anyone actually reads this) I hope it was a good read. I should update soon enough, until then -NH

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