Disclaimer: WARNING EXPLICIT CONTENT

Sherlock belongs to BBC and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

AN – this was a fanfiction I wrote in connection with my previous one "Happy Holidays John" and is a continuation for Valentine's day for my friend [who the other one was also for] I really hope you enjoy it and there ARE two scenes in here that are sex scenes, they have been labled if you want to skip over them… but then why would you be reading a M rated fic? I hope you enjoy it, comments encouraged! Flames will be used to roast marshmallows

Picture to go along with the fic can be found here http : / fav . me / d39ifrt just take out the spaces

Start Fanfiction

Sherlock sat, staring at the calendar as if doing so would help his problems. It was February, and normally he didn't mind the month, it was the shortest in the year after all, but this year was different. This year… he had John. After their relationship had been established Sherlock had tried whole-heartedly to make it as normal as possible. They went out on dates, though those usually ended up badly and they'd end up on another case. He tried buying something for John but that never worked either… John always hated it but pretended he loved it to appease Sherlock. Sherlock just wasn't sure what to do and the 14th was closing in on him quickly. John was out for the day, off to visit his sister, so Sherlock had time to think without being distracted by his boyfriend.

"And what am I supposed to do for him? This holiday is a bloody nuisance anyway… no real significance in it other than the companies trying to get a higher profit because of how deucedly stupid people are…" At this Sherlock sighed. "And I'm being one of those deucedly stupid people right now… I need help from someone… I can't ask Mycroft, dear God I'd never hear the end of it… Lestrade's out of the question… even if he has had a successful marriage with his wife Alice for the past 20 years… Defiantly not Sally or Anderson… they don't even know how to keep a stable relationship themselves… Mrs. Hudson would give it away too easily… and dear God if I even asked Molly she might take it the wrong way and think I'm getting HER something…" Sherlock groaned and flopped over onto the couch. "No no this won't do… obviously can't ask Harry… besides that woman's always too drunk to think coherently… who else could help me to figure out what to do for John for this bloody holiday?" Sherlock stared up at the ceiling. He remembered the Christmas problem, when he had completely forgotten the holiday and had to give something to John literally last minute. He was just happy that John had taken it the correct way and not stormed out of the flat right then and there. Sherlock groaned again, rubbing his face with his hands and thinking about John again. He had to be in Surgery early in the morning and would be gone most of the day so that would give Sherlock - he stopped. Surgery. There was someone there he could talk to! Sherlock jumped up from the couch and grabbed his phone; quick firing off a text that he was sure wouldn't be expected.

***

Sarah sat at the front desk of the Surgery, just finishing up with the last of the patients for the day. She was glad too, mid-February, most people were getting the flu and she hated dealing with the rush of sick people, despite her job. As soon as she'd finished and made the last appointment for the day, she'd gotten a text. Pulling up her phone and opening the message to the unrecognized number, she realized immediately who it was from.

Need your help with John. [It read] Valentine's day. Only hope. Please contact.
SH

Sarah sighed heavily. After she and John had had their little fling, and she'd found out that the ex-Army doctor was dating the consulting detective, she'd had no hard feelings. John and her were better off as friends any way. She could handle being around him… but not dealing with his dangerous other life. She put her phone away in her bag and closed down the Surgery, getting ready to leave when another text appeared.

Please. Don't want to screw this up. Please.
SH

Sarah stared in amazement. John had mentioned on numerous occasions how deplorable Sherlock's manners were. He'd said please three times in two text messages. He must have really been desperate then. Sarah sighed and typed back.

Meet at Phoenix Palace on Glentworth Street in half hour. Talk there.
SS

She packed up her things and headed to the Chinese bar and grill a block and a half over from the two men's flat. Today promised to be interesting.

***

Sherlock sat at one of the front tables at the Phoenix Palace. As soon as he had gotten Sarah's text he walked the block and half from his flat to the restaurant. If John came back to the flat and found it empty of his flat mate and boyfriend, Sherlock could always say he was out collecting samples but didn't find anything useful. He stared intently at the clock that hung upon the wall across from him, sitting with knees drawn up in his chair and fingers placed angelically beneath his nose as if in deep concentration. When Sarah finally arrived, it wasn't hard to find him. She said she was meeting Sherlock and the waiter immediately looked shocked at her before ushering her over to the table where the detective sat. She placed her order and stared at him for a moment.

"So?" she asked, sipping the water they'd placed in front of her. Sherlock blinked rather slowly, as if then realizing that she'd been talking to him. He then sat normally and got to the matter at hand, explaining to her his problems and the dilemma that presented itself before him that he, himself, could not solve.

"So there, and I need your help." he'd wasted all his manners in the text messages he'd ended up sending to her but he was trying to keep the condescending tone out of his voice. Sarah was trying desperately not to giggle behind her hands. She was failing miserably, but she was trying damn it. She wasn't used to dealing with someone that knew so little about common [or what was common to her] romantic knowledge. She'd grown up a normal life, dating in her teens and having her heart broken so Valentines was something she was used to.

"Listen," she started after getting her giggles under control. "Why don't you try doing something just the two of you. Dinner at home… and I would suggest a takeaway. Make him some tea. Buy him something he'll like. You know him Sherlock, you know you do. What's his favorite color?"

"Light blue." Sherlock added without even thinking. The data jumping straight from his brain out of his mouth.

"And how does he take his tea?"

"Two sugars and milk."

"How old is his sister?"

"Three years older than he is."

"When did his dad die?"

"Five years ago."

"What's his favorite sport?"

"Tie between Rugby and Cricket."

"What's his favorite food?"

"Jam."

"His favorite jumper?"

"The black and white striped one."

"You see? You just answered seven straight questions about him without even thinking about it… you know him. You don't need my help to give him something he'll love. And trust me, John's not the type of man to say no… especially not to you." And with that, Sarah dropped cash on the table and left with a smirk. Sherlock stared at where she was for a few moments before bolting from his seat and practically running back to Baker Street.

***

It'd been a long day dealing with his sister. He'd had to check her into a recovery facility AGAIN and make sure she didn't throw a hissy fit while doing so. John was tired and practically collapsed into his chair after making himself a warm cuppa. He wanted nothing more than to sit there, enjoy his tea and then take a nap or maybe even just go straight to bed… but Sherlock wasn't home so he doubted he'd get much sleep without his lover there. John had a hard time sleeping as it was with the recurring nightmares from the war showing back up in his dreams, but Sherlock seemed to calm them down and where he didn't actually dream any more, he actually was able to get some rest with the tall genius in bed with him. He groaned, rubbing the back of his neck and sipping his tea. Just as he was beginning to relax, Sherlock practically jumped into the room, boxes in his hands before dashing off to his old bedroom to stow them. When he came out John was staring at him.

"Oh, hullo John, glad to see you sister didn't insist on injuring you again, though the way she was hanging off of you this time leads be to believe she was a bit closer than you would have liked her to be… but good to know that your day was rather successful otherwise. Work early tomorrow?" Sherlock had, by this time, gone and grabbed himself a cuppa and was back, sitting in front of John in his own armchair. John just nodded, only mildly curious as to how his lover had figured that all out, before responding.

"Yeah, got to be in by seven, meaning I've to be up by six at the latest. You got plans for tomorrow?" he only asked because he wasn't sure if Sherlock remembered or not. Not that John expected Sherlock to remember Valentine's day, considering the Christmas problem; he really just didn't expect anything on holidays now, especially not on ones that dealt with feelings and the such. Sherlock smiled, looking rather pleased.

"Oh yeah, Lestrade's going to let me go through all the cold case files so they can finally clean up that back room. Said I'd have full access and everything so I'll probably be out most of the day. Don't expect me when you get home I should be in rather late. If I'm lucky, I'll be able to convince him to let me help with this new case that just came up too." John nodded and finished off his tea. Sherlock hid a smirk behind his own. When he lied to John he always made it believable and helping out at Scotland Yard was the most believable thing that he could possibly be doing.

"Well I'm off to bed," John said, standing to put his cup away somewhere Sherlock might not experiment on it.

"So soon?" Sherlock asked. "You haven't even been back for an hour yet… and it's only seven thirty." John just smiled as he came back into the room and kissed Sherlock on the forehead.

"Long day sweetheart, very long day." Sherlock practically melted at the use of his nickname. He loved it when John called him that and leaned into the touch.

Beginning Graphic Scene

"Do you want me to come and help relax you?" he didn't mean for it to sound nearly as sexual as it did when he said it but before he knew what was going on they were both up in the upper bedroom, clothes off and laying on the bed, mouths and hands roaming, hips pressed against each other roughly. John groaned, pressing his hips up into Sherlock's moaning out his name and panting heavily soon as his mouth was free of the other's tongue. Sherlock was making a very nice love bite right at the junction of collar and throat while his hands slid down John's sides before settling on his hips. His lips made a rapid decent down the doctor's sternum, over his abs and hips till they collided with the very hard, very needy, throbbing cock. Sherlock was quick to engulf John, running his tongue over the tip and hollowing his cheeks as he sucked, remembering to moan and make that vibration that John loved.

"O-oh G-God! Sherlock! Y-yes please… m-more…" John was losing the coherency to speak and had tangled his fingers into Sherlock's hair to try and guide the brunette to a better angle. It might have been the deep throating, it might have been the low, baritone moan, it might have been the utter need that John was feeling, but it was most likely the fact that just before John came, Sherlock has thrust a finger inside of him and hammered down on John's prostate. And John came, deep, long spurts of spunk being forced down Sherlock's throat and he swallowed every bit. When John came down from his high a bit and Sherlock had finished cleaning him with his mouth, then cuddled together, Sherlock playing with John's bangs.

End Graphic Scene

"You know," Sherlock started, looking down at John from where he was, propping himself up with an elbow and fiddling with his lover's hair with the other hand, "this wasn't exactly the way in which I had meant to relax you when we came up here. I'd merely intended to play you some music on my violin to help you get to sleep but I'm rather glad that you enjoyed yourself." Sherlock smiled softly as his lover's eyes were drifting closed. John hummer and curled up against Sherlock, already falling into a peaceful sleep. When Sherlock was sure that John was completely asleep, he moved from the bed to not only take care of his own raging need, but to start to set things up for the next evening… he had a Valentines dinner to plan.

***

By the time John had gotten up in the morning, Sherlock was out of bed and out of the flat entirely. John wasn't worried though, he just assumed that his lover was out doing more research or down at the Yard. John took his morning shower, shaved brushed his teeth, had his tea and grabbed some biscuits before heading off to another early morning at the surgery. When Sherlock was sure that John was good and out of the house he came back, starting to set everything up. He called the place down the street that John loved to eat at every time they got time off of a case and ordered a take away in advanced of all the things John liked to eat to be delivered before John got home. Sherlock also went out and bought some very nice wine that he knew John would love and stowed it in the fridge away from any and all body parts that he had shoved in there. He went around wrapping the presents he'd gotten for John and straightening up the flat, making it so they could actually have dinner AT THE TABLE for once and setting the mood. Candles were lit and the lights were turned down and Sherlock made sure everything was perfect… he even made a pot of John's favorite tea. The time rolled around for John to get back from surgery and Sherlock was waiting diligently. Food was being kept warm and tea was settled in the kettle on the stove. He made sure that the things he'd bought for John were hidden away so that he could get to them but they weren't in sight and he waited patiently in the main room holding a box of, no, not chocolate's, but marzipan, what he knew to be John's favorite candy. Sherlock had made sure he was dressed nicely, a dark blue silk dress shirt and his black slacks along with polished black shoes. He wanted everything to be just right for when John walked in through the door and he waited patiently for his arrival.

The clock had just struck quarter past six when John had finally made it back to their flat, worn and tired. He really just wanted a nice cup of tea and to go right to bed… maybe a bath if he was lucky enough to stay awake for that long. He was not expecting what he walked into when he entered their flat. John was instantly awake when he saw their flat, actually clean, candles littered around on flat surfaces and Sherlock, standing there with a wide smile on his face.

"Happy Valentine's day John…" he sounded unsure of himself but he was going to try anyway. John wanted to cry… he really wanted to cry. He dropped his bag and, ignoring the amazing looking marzipan that Sherlock was holding out to him in a stereotypical heart shaped box, enveloped his lover in his arms and kissed him for all he was worth. Sherlock panted when the kiss was broken, slightly dazed and a blush spread across his face.

"I love you." John stated before kissing Sherlock again, less violent this time though, enjoying the taste of his lover before pulling away. Sherlock smiled.

"I love you too… but we're letting dinner chill. Maybe we can continue this after our meal?" John blinked in surprise.

"Dinner?" Sherlock smiled and lead John into the very clean kitchen and making him sit down, he looked as if he was going to faint any moment.

"Yes dinner… and no I didn't make it, so you don't have to worry about getting food poisoning or anything. Just enjoy." With that he served the food and wine, putting the kettle of tea off to the side for John to take if he wanted. John sat in amazement, staring at Sherlock as he tucked into his meal and had to bite his lip to stop it from quivering. Sherlock looked up and frowned. "Something's wrong… I've done something wrong… haven't I?" He asked, worried about the way John was biting his lip and holding back tears. One slipped rebelliously down John's cheek and he hastily wiped it away while shaking his head.

"No… no no everything is perfect… bloody hell Sherlock everything is so perfect." John wanted to hold Sherlock and never let go, he was having trouble believing that this was the same man that a year ago didn't understand a personal bubble from a flirtatious smile. They both ate their dinner together, laughing and telling stories, generally enjoying themselves. John couldn't believe all that Sherlock had done for him! They'd each enjoyed at least one glass of wine, John had had a cup of his favorite tea and for desert, and he nearly polished off the entire box of marzipan. Just when he thought there were no more surprises, Sherlock stood from the table.

"Wait here…" he instructed, leaving the room to dash into his old bedroom. He grabbed the box and came back before handing it to John.

"What's this then?" John asked, turning the box over in his hands. It was simple wrapping, dark red paper and a good size.

"Well if you open it you'll find out." John chuckled but did. Inside he found three new jumpers that were just to his style, and judging by the name tags, cost Sherlock an arm and a leg [which John thought he might have actually given over considering the experiments that his lover did] to get them.

"Sherlock… they're beautiful, thank you." John had an affiliation for jumpers. It had started when he was young and his grandmother had knitted him one for Christmas. As soon as he'd put it on [which he hadn't wanted to in the first place but did to appease his ninety-five year old grandmum] he'd fallen in love with them and they became a necessity to his wardrobe. When he wasn't wearing one he felt odd, like something was missing. John suddenly felt very guilty. "Sherlock…" he started, not quite sure where to look, so his eyes lingered on the warm wool knit in his fingers. "I haven't gotten you anything in return…" his voice was quiet, as if ashamed. Sherlock smiled softly at the blond across from him.

"You don't understand John… it's not about you giving me something… it's about me making up for all that you have given me… you're always up to help me on a case, you deal with my major and minor annoyances at any and all times of the day, and what do I ever give back to you? This is just one way for me to say I love you." John had looked up and couldn't help the tears in his eyes at the words. He quickly scrubbed them away before standing and pulling Sherlock into a tight embrace. They stayed locked in each other's arms for a long moment, not wanting either to let go first. Finally Sherlock pulled back, pressing a warm kiss to John's temple. "There is one more surprise darling," whispered Sherlock. To which John just melted against the taller man and let himself be led to their upstairs bedroom.

Beginning Graphic Scene

Sherlock had figured out quite early in their relationship how John liked to have sex. He loved being in control of the situation but he also enjoyed every once in a while when he was taken care of. Sherlock had planned just that for tonight. He easily stripped John of his jumper and shirt, leaving him topless before pushing him onto the bed and trailing light kisses over the scarred shoulder. John hated looking at his shoulder, Sherlock loved it. It put deeper into his mind that the man before him had seen far worse days than what he put him through. John was enjoying being taken care of, getting comfortable on the bed and letting Sherlock have his way with him. It didn't take either of them long to get excited enough to move things a bit faster but Sherlock wasn't going to let his over enthusiasm ruin his plans. They'd both managed to get all their clothes off without too much difficulty and lay pressed against each other lazily exploring each other's mouths. John had his hands places on both of Sherlock's hips and was rubbing his thumbs over the protruding bones there. Sherlock's hands… well they were busy somewhere else. One was tangled in John's hair, the other had gotten the lube and was stretching the tight muscle of Sherlock's rectum. It was a well-known secret that John's ultimate favorite position was to be ridden. Sherlock pulled away from the kiss to look down into John's eyes, the deep dark blue that just bared every part of his soul out for Sherlock to see.

"Love you…" John whispered, placing a gentle kiss against Sherlock's lips.

"Love you too," he responded easily before moving back more. John blinked quizzically and looked up at his lover. About to ask a question but he soon forgot what it was as those long, thin fingers wrapped around his cock, spreading the warmed lube all along it. John was ready, more than ready at the slow pace they'd been going so when he felt Sherlock shift to a sitting position over his hips he nearly growled out in agony when he wasn't allowed to pull those beautiful hips down towards his own. Sherlock took his dear sweet time lowering himself to be fully sheathed onto John and another moment to enjoy the feeling of being completely full. The rhythm started quickly, more so than Sherlock would have liked but the way John kept moaning his name and digging his fingers into his hips Sherlock couldn't stand it either. He'd wanted it to last, to be slow and torturous, but nothing doing. He found himself Cuming with a shout of John's name, John Cuming right after with Sherlock's name on his lips. They lay together after, cuddled together and enjoying the glow of their high.

Ending Graphic Scene

"Sherlock?" John asked, quite tired but content, holding his lover against his chest.

"Hmm?" Was Sherlock's ever dignified reply.

"Where'd you get the idea for all this?" he waved his hand around a bit, as if meaning everything that they'd done tonight. Sherlock had the decency to blush a bit.

"Well most of it was me… I did get a bit of help from someone though… though no one you need to know about. Just go to sleep John… and happy Valentine's day." John sighed but rested his head against his lovers and pulled the duvet a bit tighter around them.

"Happy Valentine's day Sherlock."

THE END