Yes, the water is cold, but that doesn’t matter. I’ll keep you warm.
John was warm under Sherlock’s hands, his breath warm against Sherlock’s face. Eyes wide, heart beating hard; aroused or afraid, or both. Sherlock wrapped his arms around John and kissed him, licking into that hot mouth, pulling the warm body against his own. John struggled, briefly, pressing his hands against Sherlock’s chest, but then he went still, legs parting around Sherlock’s hips, mouth turning soft, eyes closing. Pressed together from chest to groin, arms tight around each other, mouths melting into each other; perfect. John may have been human, but he was Sherlock’s human.
I don’t think I reblogged this, because I was in a hurry and too busy flailing with glee to do anything else. But since I WANT TO KEEP IT FOREVER, I am reblogging it now.
(Also to show off the wondrous Otterondeck to all of you.)