Sherlock let go of John’s face to pull him in against his chest. John let go of Sherlock’s coat. He lifted his chin to Sherlock, wetting his lips. Sherlock leaned down and kissed him, tugging the edges of his coat around John’s back.
The wind blew down another shower of cherry blossoms. Sherlock pulled John closer against him, his lips sliding over John’s. ♡
"Go with the flow, rather than against it…"
Steadily, John fell into the same pattern, mirroring in such a way that would leave no one in any doubt that they were two blokes dancing together, rather than just occupying the same space. His breath was stuck in his throat, caught around a knot of need. Every time they brushed against one another or Sherlock’s hand skimmed down his arm, a jolt of raw electricity arced through his stomach to clench between his legs, and John struggled to think around the thickening cloud of desire.
The two people connected by the red thread are destined together, regardless of time, place, or circumstances. This magical cord may stretch or tangle, but never break.
Victorian Steampunk Johnlock commission for thebethanyrose ! :)
A gift to all the stalwart TJLC’ers who walk the path with me. The wonderful sweetlittlekitty did this on commission for us, it is just wonderful and we love her.
I intend to have a car sticker/window sticker made of this in bulk and give out at the official convention whenever it occurs in the UK. If there are also cons in the US & Oz then stickers will be made available for those also.
My admiration and gratitude to sweetlittlekitty; you are a talent. Plus my love to LSiT who kept the secret with me, and inspires and supports me consistantly.
Take and use tjlc’ers…be proud.
Thanks to the wonderful welovethebeekeeper this sticker will be available at any official Sherlock convention. The Hartswood/Sherlockology events once the dates are released!!
I am so excited to be a part of this, I can barely contain myself!
We believe in TJLC!
John passes for normal so easily. He looks right and decent. If Sherlock had any decency in him, he would leave John alone. He would excise this part of him like a cancer; parcel it away to somewhere where it wouldn’t taint anything, anymore. He would cut out the tumor of desire before it metastasized, before his need ate up every cell of his being… He looks at John the way a spark must look at dry, crisp kindling, while the kindling begs to be set aflame ~ ♡
John let his head fall back against the wall, the hand that was still wrapped around Sherlock’s, squeezing desperately. He didn’t know what to do with himself. He was everywhere all at once, coming apart under Sherlock’s mouth. He was thankful for the wall at his back because his legs were as soft as butter beneath him, trembling and weak. ♡
Instead, he leaned forward and kissed Sherlock’s downturned mouth ~ ♡