"It was for a case," Sherlock mumbles as he apologizes again to John as he's cramped up against him in the dark.

"Yeah, okay, case," John mutters angrily almost under his breath. "We literally are stuck in a closet, murderers outside, and unable to move until they leave."

Sherlock ponders it for a moment. "We could go out there and-"

"Not today, Sherlock," John replies swiftly, trying and failing to move backwards in the ridiculously small closet they got stuck in.

Sherlock smirks. "Of course, you must be fine with being stuck in the closet."

John glares up at Sherlock. "Really – are we really doing this right now?"

"Doing what? I'm simply stating you are in your natural condition, it musn't be that uncomfortable," Sherlock says, his grin not so visible through the dark but hearable in his tone of voice.

"Will you shut it?" John asks in a fast, frustrated whisper.

Sherlock leans just an inch closer. "You could make me."

"Why now?" John asks in a smaller voice, dancing a very fine line at this point.

"Bored," Sherlock says in one short breath over John's lips before allowing them to collapse together.

John doesn't know why he's moving his lips with Sherlock's, why he's playing along. Sherlock pushes him back towards the wall, effectively knocking things over that cause loud clangs and startle them both apart, quietly waiting to see if anyone heard. Luckily, the murderers seem to be preoccupied and yelling at each other. Sherlock blinks a few times at John before saying a word. "Sorry."

"No, uh, don't be sorry. It was, um, good, fine yeah," John replies before hearing Lestrade burst into the room outside of the closet, that being their que to be able to leave.

Sherlock looks at John for a few moments, evaluating the sincerity of what his blogger has said before he exits dramatically enough. "Well, it took you long enough," Sherlock says to Lestrade as he waves John out with him as he makes perfectly refined deductions from what he heard from the closet about the events that transpired outside of it. John just stands quietly until it's time to leave, never taking his eyes once off of Sherlock.

Once they are back in their flat after the case is nice and closed an awkward silence looms in the air. Until Sherlock intervenes as John goes to walk upstairs. "It was good then?"

John clears his throat. "It's been a long night, Sherlock."

"That wasn't my question," Sherlock ponders as he walks closer to John.

"I, um, I don't think, I'm tired can we maybe talk about this at a later time?" John says, brushing everything off as easily as he can.

Sherlock blinks a few times before nodding and hurrying off to his own room. John sighs as he ascends the stairs, knowing that this doesn't hold the conversation off forever.

The next morning Sherlock makes breakfast and tea. He asks John several times in several different ways what he meant by what he said. John just stares at his plate, pretending he's not awake enough to hear. Pretending he thinks that Sherlock is just mumbling to himself again. Eventually, that's all it becomes, Sherlock sitting on his chair trying to deduce how to get answers about their situation as John runs out the door for work.

Sherlock is preoccupied by a case that he asks John to join him on after work, which he does, as usual. He's almost shocked when the coordinates lead to an empty place again. Even more surprised when he finds Sherlock seconds before they have to duck and hide again, like it was planned.

"Again, then, trapped," John ventures in a soft whisper, not wanting to alert those outside.

Sherlock sighs. "Can you tell me now?"

"Tell you what?" John asks, acting as if he doesn't know where the question is going.

"Why I shouldn't be sorry," Sherlock says as he takes a few steps, hovering his face very closely over John's. "What was good, well, fine as you concluded." Sherlock reaches down and grabs John's wrist softly. "Why your pulse is elevating and your breathing pattern is changing just because I'm a little closer."

"Sherlock," John says so softly he can hardly believe the voice comes from his own lips.

"John, may I," Sherlock says as he moves his hand up John's side and feels John tremble under his touch until his hand reaches his neck and John stares up at him, unsure. "Tell me if you want anything to stop."

"No," John mutters before reaching up and tangling his fingers in Sherlock's hair, pulling his face the final few inches so their lips can meet. Sherlock makes an intangible sound into John's lips as his hands start exploring every inch of John he can find, pulling them closer in every deepening of their kiss. Rutting into each other like there's no tomorrow and gripping on to each other for dear life until they have to come up for breath.

Sherlock grins wide. "I thought I was going to have to make the first move."

"Shhh," John says as he pulls Sherlock close again, kissing again and again like Sherlock's lips are the only thing keeping him breathing. Gripping tightly everywhere on Sherlock's body that he can gain purchase as they kiss, not ready for it to stop. John pulls away again for breath. "Too bad it's a crime scene and we could have to leave at any time," John whispers as he runs his hands up and down Sherlock's torso.

"One minute, and don't be mad," Sherlock says as he parts from John and peeks his head out of the closet door. "Your assistance is no longer required, thank you, have a good night," Sherlock says and the people flood out of the building area that had come in. Sherlock walks back to John and smiles softly. "I said don't be mad. Please, I just didn't know how to get you to talk to me, so I asked some of my network to create a crime scene similar to the one yesterday and I'm sorry if this all bothers you."

"I'm a little upset you couldn't wait for me to talk to you otherwise, but right now, I don't particularly care," John says, as he pulls Sherlock close again. "If that's okay, we can worry about that later. I'm more concerned about."

"Mhm," Sherlock mutters over John's lips before kissing him again. When they part next for air, Sherlock laughs softly against John's lips. "I'm almost mad at you for postponing this so long."

"Never again," John says before he devours Sherlock's lips again. "Boundaries?"

"None," Sherlock says as he starts pushing away at John's jacket, indicating he's more than ready to continue forward. They strip each other down to their undergarments before John says a word more. "I don't have anything for," John begins to say as Sherlock pulls a tube out of his coat pocket, "but clearly, you're prepared."

Sherlock leans closer and grinds against John, needing the friction, anything, as he whispers in John's ear. "Tell me if anything is…if there's anything you want different," Sherlock mutters as he reaches into the back of John's pants and circles a first lubricated finger around John's entrance. John bucks back into the touch with a soft moan and Sherlock uses his other hand with the help of John's hands to push away the offending undergarment so he can go deeper.

He inserts a first finger into John and makes his blogger cry out, knowing exactly what to reach for on every dive inside. He gets to three before John is making enough noise to echo through the empty building. Sherlock turns John around and starts lubricating his member. "Grab onto something to steady yourself, and let me know if you need me to stop," Sherlock instructs carefully as John reaches for the ever-too-convenient bar on the wall and pushes his arse back, awaiting Sherlock's insertion.

Sherlock pushes in slowly at first, carefully until John pushes back and takes him in fully. Sherlock's grip gets tighter on John's waist as he does and he lets out a loud moan. "Let me know when you're ready."

"Go ahead," John says very breathlessly before Sherlock starts thrusting into him. Not gently like the initial penetration, but hard fast and desperate. The experience lasts less time than either of them care to admit because they were so eager for this for so long. When they are done, they clean themselves up from what they can find in the utility closet they're in and Sherlock gets dressed. John puts on his pants and then sighs. "My trousers are a bit," John can't find words as Sherlock chuckles.

"Mine aren't much better, I'm afraid," Sherlock admits.

"May I just," John grabs Sherlock's long coat off the ground and wraps it around himself wearing nothing else but pants underneath.

"If you're ready to go out of the closet," Sherlock says both meaning literally and figuratively.

John smiles brightly. "Yeah, I think I am."

FIN.