7:02am Sunday

John exhaled rested his arms on the rim of the tub closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the wall, totally knackered. Steam rose in soft hypnotic curls from the soothing waters. He closed his eyes sighed and let his aching muscles slowly unwind. Who knew that five short years could make such a difference. John recognized that he was no longer a young man, and he certainly wasn't hitting the gym by anyone's standards but he was still reasonably active, his muscle tone was decent, and he had little to no belly fat. So why the hell did he feel like the dead?

"John." There it was. The reason for everything. The reason his back was sore and his thighs felt like rubber. Everything. Because no matter how tied, or depleted, sick or half dead, his cock would always answer the call. The call of Sherlock's liquid honey baritone. That deep rolling thunder, was a call to action that his body was powerless to resist. And John wouldn't have it any other way.

"Yes Love." John opened his eyes and there stood his lover, gray silk dressing gown slouching off one shoulder the other leaning on the door frame, one never ending leg fully exposed. John felt the first tug, and drew in a deep breath through is teeth.

"You've been gone for ages." Sherlock dropped his voice low, and let his slender fingers brush the trail of soft black hair on his milky thigh absently as he spoke.

"And you just can't live without me. "

"Well, actually, no I don't think I can. You've ruined me."

"It didn't take much."

"Oh don't sell yourself short John, it took very much indeed." Sherlock had worked his way over to the tub by this time and Johns body had fallen under Sherlock's powerful spell and he was now fully erect, soothing waters be damned. Sherlock stepped into the tub, still wrapped in gray silk, his feet on either side of Johns hips. John watched Sherlocks movements, sure and graceful. Without a word Sherlock sank slowly down into the water and inch by inch seated himself firmly and fully onto Johns cock, Sherlock's head fell back in shared extacy and water slouched over the edge of the tub in time with Sherlock's rhythmic hip roll. John was sure he would die.

"Oh...ooh...oh fuucckk!" John white knuckled the rim of the claw foot tub.

John's hips jutted up each time Sherlock's arched forward, their breath rough and uneven both trembled at the doubly hot sensation. Sherlock moved fluidly on John's cock and spoke absolute filth into his ear and the crook of his neck, while increasing wave after wave of insanely hot pleasure.

"I missed your cock inside me John." Sherlock dragged the words along John's neck. "Do you like it when I take all of you inside me John? Cum for me John. Cum inside me John pleeaassee!" The last of Sherlock's breath a whisper hiss in John's ear all as he road John to his own breath taking climax.

Sherlock dropped a few kisses on John's face and parted lips then stepped out of the tub, with the same grace as he'd stepped in. He discarded his soaked dressing gown on the loo floor, and looked back at his handy work, John was taking big gulps of air and griping the rim of the tub trying to stay above water. Sherlock said over his shoulder with a smile in his voice to the rapidly sinking man.

"Do try not to drown John darling, I would hate to have to explain it to The Yard." And with that his naked ass walked away.

John chuckled despite himself.

11:37am

John opened his eyes to the soft gray light and the sounds of a late sluggish London morning.

"Tea." Sherlock dralled in a tone usually confined to the bedroom as he sat down a cup on the table in front of the sofa where John had been napping. John felt the familiar jolt low in his belly at the hit of wicked in Sherlocks voice.

"Christ Sherlock! How can you be that big and that quite all at once?" John failed suprise when in truth his body was conspiring against him and his mind seemed inclined to follow if his deviant thoughts where any indication.

"Good lord man, he offered you tea, not a blowjob. Although one of those would be nice. Sherlock did give the most spine tingling blow jobs."

"Now I'm too quiet This morning you said I'd wake the dead."

Sherlock waved a hand in a dismissive gesture.

"What?" John snapped out if his thoughts.

"You believing I'm some how too loud. Or even loud at all. I don't recall all this supposed noise you mentioned."

"You're just completely unaware of how noisy you can be." John sat up sipping at his perfect cuppa.

Sherlock was in the kitchen only slightly bent over the table when John entered. It was the eye contact this time that was John's undoing, changeable jewels saying all manner of roguish things. Well that and the pure sight of Sherlock standing there in his crisp white shirt cuffs rolled up, his hands splayed flat on the table one knee slightly bent and his bottom hugged in sinfully tailored black trousers. John took him right there on the table Bunsen burner and all. Pushing Sherlock down onto the table and grinding into his plush bottom, while John fumbled to undo the zipper that was keeping him from his desire.

"God, I could have you a million times and still be thirsty." John rutted against Sherlock's bottom Sherlock moaned in response, one hand gripped his hip the other finding its way into Sherlock's paints to free his cock. Frustrated at the barrier of clothing, John spun Sherlock around and the race was on to see who could get naked fastest. It was Sherlock, who then hopped up on the table sending various beakers, Petri dishes, and droppers, clattering to the floor without a care. It was fast and hard from that point on and Sherlock screamed like the devil on fire and praised John's name like angels on clouds as John drove into him and fisted Sherlock's cock in time with each smack of their flesh coming together. Sherlock's release sent more equipment flying to the floor and a stream of white hot cum over his belly and chest. John was not far behind after such a sight. His own release was guttural and powerful. Had it not been for Sherlock's legs wrapped around his waist he would have collapsed. As it was he lay froward resting his head on Sherlock's solar plexus struggling to breathe normally.

"And that my love is how the dead will rise." John sat up and immediately cringed at the sticky cold feeling at his ear and the side of his face and chuckled. "Shower?" John shuttered as he pulled his body free from Sherlock's heat.

"Yes please. But don't you try anything." Sherlock winked. John held out his hand and led Sherlock through the path of broken things on the floor to the shower.

4:48 pm

"Sherlock Holmes." Sherlock answered his mobile knowing that it had to be a case if Lestrade were calling on a Sunday.

"I've got a body that your going to want to take a look at." Lestrade offered.

Sherlock passed his mobile to John, and bent down close to the body of a middle aged woman who dispite the ice crystals forming on her skin had clearly been strangled to death.

Sherlock stood up swiftly. "Strangled then frozen. Obvious."

"Would you believe we figured that part out?" Lestrade didn't spare the sarcasm.

Sherlock opened his mouth to retort, John shook his head in the negative. Sherlock rolled his eyes violently. John suppressed a chuckle.

"Fine. Why am I here then Lestrade?" Sherlock tried not to sound annoyed.

Molly piped in before Greg could speak. "I...I think she has something in her left hand...I...I thought that you maybe able to tell who did this if we can remove it." Molly smiled weakly up at an oblivious Sherlock. John noted this and felt horrible for the woman. They hadn't really told anyone that their relationship had changed though to most it had been obvious, but John made a mental note to find a decent way to break it to Molly. "I have a heat lamp. Shouldn't take more then forty five minutes. You could wait." Her eyes twinkled a bit.

"Keep the temperature low, we don't want to corrupt any evidence. John." Sherlock walked out into one of the little used back corridors. John close behind. Lestrade went out the front saying he'd be back in an hour. Sherlock practically threw himself against the wall and huffed. John took his place next to him.

"What's the trouble love?" John tangled his fingers at his side with Sherlock's.

Sherlock brought both their hands up, and kissed the back of John's. "They interrupted our Sunday." He said with a lovely pout that affected John the same way everything about Sherlock did. Sherlock saw the almost imperceptible jerk of John's breath and smiled in that dangerous way that made John's blood rush south.

"Nooo Sherlo..." John's words died when Sherlock crushed him against the wall with a hungry kiss, that trailed John's jawline and back down to suck deep purple love bites into the crook of John's neck, all the while Sherlock's hands delved into John's waistband tugging at his shirt, belt, button. "Sherlock you're mad! We can't. Molly is in the next room."

"Then I suggest you do your best to keep quiet." Sherlock covered John's open panting mouth with his own in a scorching tangle of lips and tongue that left John dazed when Sherlock withdrew only to drop to his knees and wrap his perfect mouth around John's cock.

"Sherlock dooonn't." John's voice wobbled as Sherlock took him into his hot wanton mouth. "Oooh, God, Sherlock you're a bad man. But so good. So so good. Ooh Fuuuck!" John cracked his head against the tile wall and didn't know if it was the smack or Sherlock that was making him dizzy. He didn't care. All he cared about was the sweet torture of Sherlock's mouth. Hot,wet. Relentless. John found Sherlock's rhythm and set his hips to meet it. Unable to keep his hands from Sherlock's curls John clasped and unclasped his hands so as not to push too hard into Sherlock's throat. His mistake came when he looked down to find Sherlock's pupils blown impossibly wide staring right into him and Sherlock's gorgeous mouth stretched around his cock. John's fist tighten and his body bowed at the violent shutters of his release.

"Jesus Christ!" Molly, staggered back against the double doors she'd just come through as she was met with the sight of John's tightly shut eyes and convulsing limbs bare bottom and thighs and his cock firmly down Sherlock's throat.

Sherlock stood and cleared his throat. "Sorry Molly, we weren't meant to get caught, it's only been...? Oh forty five minutes. Sorry again, didn't mean to offend." Sherlock checked the corners of his mouth.

"Who said anything about being offended?! Johns cock is huge!" Molly exclaimed.

"Cheers Molly." John said sluggishly eyes still closed his head lolled and his arms hung loosely at his sides as Sherlock, tucked him away.

11:40 pm

John finished his nightly routine and came into the kitchen to collect Sherlock who had cleaned up their mess from earlier. John wrapped his arms around Sherlock's shoulders and kissed his neck. "Time for bed love." Sherlock tilted his to the left to give John better access.

"Yes John." Sherlock stood and was led from the kitchen by the man he loved for the second time today.

John stripped down to his paints and climbed under the covers. He always enjoyed this part of the evening, watching Sherlock across the room slink out of his dressing gown, cast off his tattered t-shirt and last but not least, slip off his pajama paints and walk naked to bed preening ever so slightly under John's gaze.

"Can I interest you in something?" Sherlock purred into Johns neck when he crawled under the covers next to him.

"The flesh is always willing." John smiled. It was all the invitation Sherlock needed. He straddled John in one fluid beautiful move. "But maybe I could just lay here and you do the heavy lifting." Sherlock tilted his head in question. "You once told me that you were no shrinking violet or some milksop afraid of a little pain, the same is true for me. I accepted you're offer that night, now accept mine." Sherlock put his hands gently on John's face, and tried to cover him in a million kisses. Kisses that began as sweet and loving that rapidly turned into passionate and descending. John pressed a bottle of lube into Sherlock's palm, Sherlock cupped his hand squeezed the bottle and made a fist until the lube made a squishing sound in his hand. First gliding up and down John's shaft, then cupping his bollocks, and finally reaching the sensitive ring of muscles and slowly advancing inside. John arched sharply and sucked breath through his teeth. Sherlock made to stop.

"No. It's fine. I'm fine." Sherlock could see the truth in John's eyes. He pushed deeper, his long fingers finding John's prostate with ease. John huffed and panted with a desperation he hadn't expected. "Jesus Sherlock!" And then there was pain that canceled out everything else. John held his breath and Sherlock made to withdraw. "No." John put his hands on Sherlock's bottom and pushed him forward they both jerked sharply as John's prostate was reached again. Sherlock slid his arms up under John's shoulders and buried his face in John's neck. The friction of Sherlock's body pressed into John's cock coupled with the slick glide of his cock inside him was a combination of sweet beautiful painful madness, that rocketed John to breathless release. Sherlock's whole body trembled and jerked sporadically spilling into John with a near howl.

Damp curls clung to the side of John's face as held tight a still shaking Sherlock. John kissed his neck, his shoulder.

"What's wrong love?" John's voice was soft and always a soothing balm. Sherlock raised his head and changed positions to better see this man he loved so dearly. This man who continued to astound him in ways he never anticipated.

"For you to give yourself to me like this...it's everything." Sherlock's eyes sparkled with unshed tears of thanks and a love that would outlast time.

John sat up a little and Sherlock lay in the crook of John's arm and looked up at him. "You beautiful idiot. I have always been all yours. If this is what you want..."

"No!" Sherlock's answer was immediate. "I mean this was nice, but...I need you. I want you. Not in this way."

"Always your way love. But I swear you're going to be the death of me. Can we please sleep now?"

"Soon." Sherlock rolled away and went to the loo. "We have a busy day tomorrow." Sherlocks tone was playful. He came back with a warm cloth for John.

"Busy day?" John asked sleepily, tossing the cloth to the floor

"Oh yes. More of the same." Sherlock was bubbly and wicked as his draped his limbs over John's body.

"Jesus, I'm a dead man." John yawned the words as he tightened his arms around Sherlock and drifted off, his last thoughts being "At least I'll die happy."