And Your Bird Can Sing
Chapter One
by SurpriseSushi
[TEXT] Sherlock, I think it time you come home. -MH
[TEXT] I can't. Not yet. You know why. -SH
[TEXT] Its John. -MH
[TEXT] What about John? -SH
[TEXT] He's dating someone. -MH
[TEXT] ...I fail to see why this affects me. Our relationship was purely plutonic, I don't know why everyone insists it was something more. -SH
[TEXT] His name's Sebatian Moran. -MH
/
"Ah, Christ- S-Seb- Sebastian-"
Sebastian smirked, pressing deeper into John, snapping his hips to plunge all the way in, making John let out a strangled yelp. John's fingers clawed at Sebastian's chest, leaving long lines down his skin, causing Sebastian to hiss. He pulled out halfway slowly then thrust back into him, reaching down to grip John's wrists, pinning them down.
They had only been dating for a couple of month's. Well; dating was bit of a stretch. They would go out for dinner and - or - shag. Neither man ever uttered the word 'date'. John couldn't put a word to what he felt for Sebastian and he couldn't even begin to guess what the other man thought of him; John just hoped he was at least a good fuck.
They had run into each other at a pub a couple of month's ago. John was already pretty far gone when Sebastian had walked in, but he reconized him from Afganistan; they had been in the same squadron. When John had gotten shot, he never knew what had happened to him, but he had always hoped Sebastian had made it home safe.
They got to talking, and drank progresively more as the night wore on. John talked about Sherlock, and Sebastian talked about a man he refused to name. Neither man knew when it had occured, but their mouth's found each other, and soon after they had burst through the back door of the establishment, ripping at each other's clothes and continueing to suck at each other's faces. John had been pressed up against the wall and allowed Sebastian to have his way with him. After they had both settled, John invited Sebastian back to 221b; as of then they were each other's 'casual shag'.
John assured himself it was a kind of therapy for him, and it was working far better than his actual therapist whom he had stopped seeing shortly after he started seeing Sebastian. Just the act of being with someone, someone who had no strings attached, made John forget who he was and what had happened to him. It was great, even if it was for only a little while. He knew it was unhealthy, but for him, it was enough.
Sebastian was breathing hard in his ear and had a hand wrapped around his leaking cock, pumping it in time with his thrusts, bringing John closer and closer to his release. He managed to give Sebastian a small warning before spilling all over the other man's hand, his muscle's contracting around Sebastian, who continued to thrust into John until he himself hit his high and came deep inside John, biting the back of John's neck hard to muffle his cry.
Sebatian slid out and collapsed onto the couch they hadn't even bothered getting off of. John lay, breathing heavily, beside him, his fist unclenging the throw blanket that he had gripped onto sometime during their escapades. He smiled when he felt an arm wrap itself around his chest and pull him close to Sebastian's warm body.
"Staying this time, are you?" John said, curling up into Sebastian.
He felt Sebastian's chest vibrate with a deep laugh. "I haven' got anywhere I need to be." He brushed a hand through John's blond hair, squeezing the smaller man tight against him with his other arm. "I do enjoy your company, John."
John flushed, his grin widening. "And I enjoy yours. So you have enough time for a kip?"
"Yeah," Sebastian emphasied the point with a dramatic yawn.
John chuckled and closed his eyes. The strong arm wrapped around him and Sebastian's breathing, that soon became a steady, comforting in and out, quickly lulled John to sleep.
/
Sherlock Holmes breathed in the London air from the first time in two years. A little ahead of schedual, and he quickly decided he hadn't missed it much. He stood outside of the airport, waiting impatiently for Mycroft. His hair was shorter, and he had a hint of a stubble on his cheeks that, under other circumstamces, would not be there, but he had been forced to disguise himself as best he could without actual facial reconstruction. He was stratching at the beginning of a beard irritably when he finally spotted the sleek black car turning into the airport parking. He set off to meet it at a quick pace and was soon safely inside, beside his brother.
"How long has this been going on?" Sherlock asked, immediately getting down to business. No 'hello', no 'how are you'; neither of them bothered with pleasentries when a situation was at hand; neither bothered with them even if there wasn't one.
"A couple of month's, if my data is correct... and it always is." Mycroft said, not even glancing up and the younger, flipping through a folder he had open on his lap. Sherlock could see pictures and what looked like records of messages sent from a phone. Mycroft saw Sherlock looking and he handed him the folder.
"It took you this long to tell me? And why didn't you step in?" Sherlock asked, looking passively over the phone records and going directly for the pictures.
"John and I haven't been on speaking terms for a year, and you've been rather out of reach."
Sherlock had fallen silent; the pictures were of John and Sabastian Moran, together, looking more like regular army chums than two people in a relationship in the early pictures, but later on they were holding each other's hands and looking at each other in such a way that made an odd feeling stir in the pit of Sherlock's stomach. He dismissed it and continued looking through the file, scanning through the text records.
"Take me to my- John's flat." Sherlock said, his eyes never leaving the folder on his lap.
Mycroft looked up at him, concern flashing over his features before he could contain it. "Moran is there right now."
"Good." Sherlock said darkly.
"Sherlock- you've been dead to John for two years. I understand your urgency, but John deserves to be eased into this, and he's obviously not in immediate danger." Sherlock opened his mouth to protest, but Mycroft spoke over him. "Do you wish to damage him further?"
Sherlock glared at him, but he uttered a small "No."
"Then we're going to my office. We are going to do this carefully. He is the last of Moriarty's web. ...You can have a look at the CCTV footage when we arrive."
/
Sebastian pulled his arm gently out of John's grasp, and carefully lifted himself off of the couch; John didn't move, he wasn't disturbed. He dressed quickly and silently and he reached for his jacket, tugging it on and pulling his cigarettes from his pocket as he descended the stairs and stepped out onto the street. He lit one and took several long drags before fishing around in his jeans for his phone. Pulling it out, he quickly dialed a number. Shoving it against his ear and waiting a few clicks, a smirk twisted onto his face when a familiar irish drawl came through the device.
"How's our little Johnny-boy?"
"I've got the army doctor completely under my wing, boss. Now we jus' wait for /'im/ for show, right?" Sebastian answered, flicking the ash off his cigarette.
"That's right, Sebby. You just have fun with Johnny," There was suddenly a dark tone. "But don't forget you belong to me."
Sebastian frowned. "Never could, boss."
"Good." The brightness was back in the irishman's voice. "Will you be home tonight then, darling?"
"If that's what you want." Sebastian said, crushing his cigarette on the wall and tossing the butt away.
"Of course. Finish up with Johnny, then back home with you, okaaaaay~? Oh, and Seb?"
"Yeah, boss?"
"Make him love you, kay?"
"... I think he might already, boss."
"Really? Is Doctor John Watson that easy? I should have done this personally. Oh well. Toodles, Seb!"
Sebastian hung up, pocketed the phone and headed back up the stairs. John lifted his head groggily when Sebastian opened the door amd slipped back in. Sebastian smiled sheepishly. "Jus' went out for a smoke, John. Go back to sleep."
John yawned, but he reached for Sebastian. "Come here."
Sebastian sauntered over to the army doctor, re-shed his clothes and slid in beside him, turning to grab the throw blanket and drape it over them both. He wrapped both of his arms around John and put his chin on top of John's head. He already felt John's steady breathing, meaning he had fallen asleep again. He smirked, and closed his eyes.
/
End of Chapter One.
I obviously don't own Sherlock or the characters.
I know y'all gonna judge for the pairing, or maybe you wont, but please give it a chance. Chapter two is done and will be up soon. Wow, this turned out to be a whole lot shorter than I thought. Oh well.
-SurpriseSushi