Such sweet and easy peace.

Jim/John? Oh yes I did.

Destruction of plot! No bombs! John has his gun! Moriarty is a bastard. Wait. That’s the same. Psychologically damaging… (for John). Slight character bastardization (for John). Super-short.

The hand that presses over his mouth smells like spice. Like cinnamon and cloves and fire. The palm is like silk against his lips- no gloves, which means that he doesn’t care about evidence. Definitely a man- surprisingly strong, since he could wager that they’re approximately the same height and he can’t seem to pull free. There’s an arm wrapped around his waist- pinning his arms useless at his sides,
“Oh. Don’t struggle Doctor.”
It’s almost purred against his the shell of his ear and it sends shivers coiling down his spine,
“Although. Struggling does tend to make it more fun for me.”

John has heard the voice before. It’s surprisingly soft given their current position- it reminds him of the lab at Bart’s, of Molly’s shyness, of the clumsy- gay- IT boyfriend. Jim?

”Oh!” and John can tell that there’s a smile on the other mans face, he can feel the curve against his ear, “Look at you! He’s taught you well. I can just see the wheels turning in your head.” there’s low laughter, “Jim? Jim from IT? Veerry clever. I’m impressed with you.”

John doesn’t want to take that as a compliment, but he does. Everything about this man screams Sherlock- the way he thinks, the way he moves, the way he speaks, the way he praises- John can’t help but see all the similarities. They’re stunning. Jim just needs to let him go and start pacing back and forth to complete the image.

“Now. Here’s the plan. I’m going to let you go and you’re not going to move.” John scoffs against his hand and Jim laughs louder, it sounds oddly playful, “I know you’re brave Johnny-boy. I didn’t think you were stupid too- or why would Sherlock keep you around?”

John is shoved forward, until there’s a few feet between them- and then he turns suddenly and pulls his Browning L9A1, John levels his aim at Jim’s smirking face,
“I could kill you.” John says it like a fact and only then notices the pinpoint of red dancing across his hand. He sighs but still narrows his eyes, clicking off the safety anyway, “It might be worth it.”

Jim is frustratingly calm,
“You could. Obviously. But Sherlock is on his way here, he wanted to meet me.” His lips curve upward into a full grin and probably because of John’s reaction- his face drops, the disappointment is evident, “Oh yes. I can only assume he lied to you. How often does that happen I wonder?” Jim steps forward and puts his hand over Johns, pressing the gun down slowly, “Do you ever wonder if you’re part of an experiment?” His fingers wrap around John’s wrist and he tugs him forward.

John stumbles toward him, caught completely off guard- and then Jim’s mouth is shoved against his, hard, and he’s kissing John- and John is letting him.

He’s thrown off by what Jim has said, and can’t help but wonder if Jim is right. He knows that thinking this right now is crazy- letting Jim kiss him, his tongue swiping across John’s lower lip and his free arm sliding around John’s waist to pull John’s body flush against his- is absolutely insane; but his body is completely betraying him. That traitor.

Jim’s tongue presses into his mouth and coherent thought just about throws itself completely from John’s mind. The hot, wet heat makes his toes curl and before he realizes it, he’s kissing back.

His gun clatters to the tiled floor.

Jim pulls him closer, his hips rolling forward- shoving their cocks together, John swallows the moan that’s trying to push through his throat. Jim pulls back from their kiss, his smile is wide and dangerous- John tries not to read too much into it,
“I don’t know why he hasn’t done this yet.” Jim’s fingertips are teasing their way to John’s pants- John’s breath comes out in small gasps. He’s hard already, his brain is telling him that it has to be because of the danger and not because of Jim, and certainly not because he’s thought about Sherlock doing these things to him- he only barely registers what Jim has said.

“He’s not-” A sharp inhale as Jim’s fingers press open the metal belt buckle and tug at the front of his pants, “Sherlock. He’s not like that.”

There’s a laugh against John’s neck. Jim has his face pressed against the juncture where neck meets shoulder and is breathing deeply- even as he thumbs the zipper of John’s jeans down and shoves his hand inside.

John arches. Jim’s fingers wrapping around him and pulling in a steady rhythm. It’s been so long since John has had someone touch him like this. There are lines of fire streaming through his body, he rocks forward and groans.

“I see how he looks at you- you know.” Jim says, his fingers tightening around the base of John’s cock, and stroking strongly, “And that’s how I knew.” He breathes the words against John’s ear and John shivers against him, his fingers digging into Jim’s shoulders through the dark blue of his suit jacket.

“Knew what?” John asks, he doesn’t want to know the answer, not really. His hips are shoving forward, the heat and blood pooling in his cock- he’s so close.

“That’s how I knew how to get to him.” Jim bites at the skin under John’s ear until he gasps- the door to the room they’re in slams open, John flinches in Jim’s arms- Jim bites again and slides his thumb through the moisture gathered at the head of John’s cock.

Jim tilts his head to the side so that John can see Sherlock- who has just stepped through the door.