Sherlock broke the kiss, leaning back just enough to take in a few large gulps of air. He felt John's obvious arousal against the inner thigh of his trousers. A quick look down confirmed that he was attaining a similar state.

"John..." He breathed. He couldn't call him Merlin, it seemed too wierd, too much. He was John, he would always be John.

His John.


That though scared him, but it was what they both wanted, that much was painfully obvious.

Literally painfully, as his length was aching and straining in his bespoked trousers.