Sherlock had a military kink. From the moment he found a magazine about the British Army in his brother's room, he knew that uniforms, ranks and danger got him off as quickly as nothing else.

So it was no surprise to him that his orgasm was building up rapidly as he grabbed strands of short sand coloured hair of the soldier beneath him. His bare feet brushed knees clad in camouflage fatigues and whenever he could tear his eyes away from the very talented mouth sucking his cock, he caught a glimpse of an olive green vest barely hiding a well build chest.

Being sucked off by a soldier made Sherlock's mind calm down for at least a few minutes and he lost himself in the sensations. Soft groans turned into loud moans as his toes flexed and tried to get a hold of the hardwood floor.
It wasn't until he shot his load down this lovely throat that he heard a very familiar voice behind his back.

"Sherlock. What... what the BLOODY HELL are you doing here?", John shouted from the doorway. He looked furious, disappointed, hurt and unbelieving – all at the same time. His gaze wandered from Sherlock's bare ass to the blond woman in her early twenties kneeling on the floor. Her eyes went wide and without a second thought she jumped up, grabbed her jacket from the chair – John's chair! - and practically fled the scene while murmuring "Sorry, didn't know he was taken...".

John expected Sherlock to stutter, to babble an excuse how it was for a case or at least to blush and feel guilty. But his boyfriend, maybe soon to be ex-boyfriend, just turned around calmly while tucking first his cock into his pants and then his shirt into his trousers and smiled at him. The bastard felt smug enough to act like nothing happened at all.

"John, you're home early. Though I'm not sure I understand why you're so upset."

"You don't... Sherlock... I don't even. How could you possibly not know what's wrong? You just had someone... someone who wasn't ME... suck you off in the middle of OUR living room. Up until now I thought we were committed but right now I'm not so sure what you thought we'd were in the last two years."

Without losing his smile, Sherlock took two long steps towards the fuming doctor.

"Oh, I thought we'd be monogamous as well. But that was of course until I discovered that you don't regard our relationship as exclusive as I did. So I thought I could have a bit of fun on my own as well. It doesn't do any harm, does it? Maybe it's even better when we..."

His sentence was abruptly finished by John holding up his hand.

"Wait. Stop right there. What on earth made you think I wouldn't be faithful to you?", John said, his voice heavy with emotion.

"You can drop the act, John. You tried to hide it of course. But in the last seven weeks you stayed out at least two hours longer on nine different occasions. Yet you didn't take any more hours at the clinic or meet up with Gavin for a pint. So who was it then? Now that way easy. Sarah. You'd go out with her directly from work. How I knew? You practically jumped out of the room every time she called you and I was near. You got messages from her but deleted them as soon as you've read some. So clearly an affair it was."

His tone was icy, cleared from any sentiment. It took Sherlock a couple of days to get over the fact John was cheating on him or at least had a very different view of their relationship and he didn't want his partner to see how hurt he truly was.

"You are wrong."

"Shut up, John, I'm never wrong."

"This time you are. Yes, I have been seeing Sarah. But not for sex or whatever you thought it was. We're just friends and I trusted her enough to help me with something. Plus she isn't connected to you like Molly so she wouldn't spoil the surprise."

John's eyes were glued to the floor as he didn't have to strength to look Sherlock into the eye after his act of betrayel.

"What now, are you trying to tell me you're organizing a surprise birthday party? Come on, I'm not an idiot, as you surely must know by now. It's June and my birthday is in..."

"I know your birthday is in January, Sherlock. You know what? It doesn't matter any more. I'm done. So you can have your surprise right now. Do with it whatever you want. Sell it, keep it, throw it away. I don't care."

Rummaging through his coat pockets, John's voice grew louder and louder while Sherlock understood less and less.

"THAT's what I needed help with. Goodbye, Sherlock."

With his last words, John had slammed down a little black box onto their couch table before stumbling down the stairs. It didn't take a genius to deduce what would be inside. Yet Sherlock's mind refused to accept that he was wrong.

With shaking fingers Sherlock opened the box to find not only one, but two broad and simple silver bands inside. He couldn't hold back his tears any more when he read what the engravings said:

"Just the two of us..."
"...against the rest of the world."