Okay first of all, the only thing I own in this story is 1/2 of the plot and the idea behind it, and 1/2 of the plot and ideas belong to reblogallthejohnlock on tumblr. She is amazing. Sherlocks' POV belongs to her and Johns' POV belongs to me.

I don't own Sherlock in any form. If I owned these characters, I would have made them gay for each other long ago!

PLEASE REVIEW! I'd love to hear what you guys think of this! 3

Sherlock where are you? Let me guess, still working? JW

John hadn't seen his lover in 3 days and was starting to get worried and slightly agitated. Sherlock said he was working, but that hasn't stopped him from coming back home to the flat before.

Good guess, for once. Will be home asap. -SH

It had been a very long and tiring three days. Somebody had been abducting members of his homeless network, and the only way he had been able to find the culprit was to infiltrate. However, three days without any comforts of home hadn't been a pleasant experience, and he'd wanted to spare John, hence he had kept the details of the case a secret. Nevertheless, the chances of him getting kidnapped within the next five minutes were high, and he knew John would be insufferably angry were to be gone much longer and come home injured. With this in mind he sent another message.

Abandoned steel works, half an hour. Stay hidden. May want to bring gun. –SH

Rubbing his forehead, John sighed. Sherlock was keeping things from him again.

Leaving in 5. JW

As he sent that message he ran to his room to grab his gun from where it was hidden. He then, left the flat and locked up. Within a matter of minutes he had flagged down a taxi and told the cabbie the address. Within, 20 minutes he was a short five minute walk away from the steel works. Pulling out his phone, while making sure his gun was hidden but was able to access it quickly, he sent Sherlock another text.

Be there in 5. Where are you hiding? JW

Sherlock felt his phone buzz in his pocket. Highly likely to be John enquiring to his whereabouts considering he had sent his last message nearly half an hour ago. Unfortunately, his hands were a little, well tied up right now. As were his feet in fact. Multiple cable ties, not handcuffs which he could have picked, and his hands behind his back, creating a nice little loop which allowed him to be firmly chained to the wall. These people knew what they were doing alright.

Therein lay the problem. Whilst the one criminal had been involved in the kidnapping, which he knew, he hadn't anticipated the multiple accomplices waiting at the steel works. Right now all he could do was curl in on himself in a poor attempt to keep warm and hope John could find him.

As John entered the steel works, he heard voices. Putting his hand on his gun, he quietly approached the first room. Peeking in, he saw that Sherlock was tied up. He also noticed there were three men; two of them were holding guns. He needed a way to cause a distraction so the men would leave the room, well at least two of them. He sent a text to Lestrade and told him where they were and that he needed back up. Locating a rock John picked it up hid behind the opened door and threw the rock the opposite direction of where he was hiding. Only one of the men was ordered to go check it out. the guard headed in the direction of where John was hiding; thankfully he wasn't all that observant. John quickly over powered the man and knocked him out. The commotion brought out the other guard with the gun. John cursed as he pulled out his gun; he knew he wasn't going to be able to overpower this one. Instead, John aimed for the guards' knees and shot twice, one shot in each knee. That brought the guard down. Pulling a knife out of the unconscious guards' belt, and tucking it into his belt loop, he entered the room where Sherlock was being held.

Sherlock's head lolled forward sluggishly as he tried to stay awake. His captors had injected him with something to subdue him, and now that the adrenaline was wearing off, he was struggling to fight off the last off its affects. His head shot up though as he heard the distinct sound of a scuffle, and a moment later two shots were fired.

John.

Two shots? Please don't let John be hurt. Please. The ring leader turned from the sound of the shots to give him a crooked grin.
"Looks like somebody loves you after all. Don't worry, we'll soon fix that."

John made sure that both men in the hall way were securely tied up. As he entered the room with his gun in hand he heard the third man speak;

"Looks like somebody loves you after all. Don't worry, we'll soon fix that."

He ran over to Sherlock and quickly examined him. He's been drugged thought John. Quickly he handed Sherlock the knife without the third man seeing it.

"Oh how touching. The lovers are reunited." The third man drawled. "Don't worry, I'm unarmed, I'm just here to watch." The man continued. John watched as the man looked at him and laughed. "Oh soldier boy, you really think you can stop me? I have many people working for me, and I am powerful."

John felt his pocket buzz, Lestrade is here if I don't answer within 5 minutes he's coming in, all I have to do is stall he thought.

"What is this all about?" John demanded. Honestly he wanted to know, but he also needed to waste some time. "Why do you need Sherlock, or was it just because you want to have some fun?" John was getting very angry, but he needed to remain calm at least have it appear that way.

John.
Sherlock didn't think he'd ever been so glad to see someone in his entire life, even if at the same time he was now worried about what this man might do to him. He felt John subtlety slip a knife between his fingers, and though they were still a little clumsy he managed to twist the knife around and begin sliding the serrated edge against the cable ties.

Sherlock heard John speaking, and perked up to hear the mans' reply. He had his suspicions, and even in his state he wanted his deductions confirmed.

The man chuckled and John's words.
"Sherlock? Oh he was just an inconvenience. One we planned for once one of those filthy homeless mentioned his name. The operation is much bigger than him. Here's a question for you, doctor; do you know how much an organ, say, a lung, sells for on the black market?"

"My guess? I'd say at least 500 pounds. That for a working one and for a healthy one at least 100 pounds." John was just taking a guess. He didn't really know how much anything would cost on the black market. John peeked at Sherlock; he noticed his arms were a bit more relaxed, Sherlock must have been able to free himself. "How much would you say Sherlock?" John asked still buying time. He knew Lestrades' men would be inside the building at any second, if they weren't already.

Sherlock wiggled his fingers, trying to return blood to the extremities now that his hands were finally free, and frowned at John's question. Why was John answering the man's questions, he obviously had - oh. Of course. John wouldn't have come without backup; Lestrade must be on the way. Stalling it was then.

"Oh more than that John, if you can sell to the right people. Black market organs, not going to be sold to the middle class, an operation of this size must be supplying someone already involved in the black market with a large network to sell to. Some sort of mafia most likely, judging by the firearms that have been supplied. Close ties within an organization like that, willing to pay a lot to keep each other alive. I suspect our friend here has some sort of deal with them; he supplies what they need when they need it, he gets paid a ludicrous sum of money for them, upwards to £2000 I'd wager judging by that suit-"

He was cut off by the blessed sound of a door thudding open and Lestrade's shouting.

John breathed a sigh of relief when Lestrades' men came running in. Quickly they handcuffed the ring leader and led him out of the room. John ran over to Sherlock and helped him up. Now wasn't the time to how more affection than normal but he knew that Sherlock appreciated the help whether he'd admit it or not. Pretending to be in doctor mode he checked Sherlock for any serious injuries while letting his touches linger slightly longer than necessary. He knew that before they could go home, Lestrade had to take a statement. And not even a minute later Lestrade walked up.

"Sherlock, I need to get a statement from you and John about what happened here," Lestrade stated. "It won't take very long. You two should be able to leave within the next thirty minutes." Lestrade continued. I felt Sherlock sigh beside me as I told Lestrade what happened when I entered the building.

Sherlock leaned into John's touch as he checked in over for injuries. He wasn't injured, apart from where the cable ties had dug into his wrists, and the drugs had nearly worn off. He sighed, frustrated, when John began giving his statement; all he wanted was to be home, with John.

When Lestrade turned his attention to Sherlock, Sherlock could hardly stop himself from rolling his eyes.
"Investigation. Homeless abducted and used to harvest organs. Major suppliers to the black market, most likely mafia. If you stop questioning us and start questioning the men in custody, you might actually get somewhere. Goodnight."

He tried for his usual dramatic exit, but it was marred somewhat as he stumbled over his own still partially numb feet. Thankfully, John darted forward to support him, and Sherlock allowed himself to be assisted out of the room.

John caught Sherlock as he stumbled. He couldn't help but chuckle at his lover; it was so like Sherlock to make a dramatic exit even though he wasn't in good shape. He helped Sherlock out of the building as the cops were just leaving. Helping Sherlock sit on a bench nearby he went to go flag down a taxi. After about 5 minutes John managed to flag one down, telling the cabbie to wait a minute he went to help Sherlock up. Sherlock had gained most of the feeling back and was able to get up with limited help. Still, John helped him get in the taxi and told the cabbie the address to get them both back home. When the taxi started to move, John felt Sherlock rest his head on Johns shoulder. Turning his head slightly, John kissed the top of Sherlocks' head earning a small sigh from the worn out consulting detective. The ride back to the flat seemed to pass by quickly and soon enough they were back at the flat. John pairs the cabbie and helped Sherlock up to the flat and locked the door behind them.

John turned to lock the door, and Sherlock took the opportunity to drape himself over his lover's back, burying his face in the joint between John's neck and shoulder and wrapping his arms around his waist.
"Thank you John," he murmured, nuzzling into the soft skin.
"What would you do without me?" John chuckled softly, lacing his fingers between Sherlock's.

Sherlock tugged on John's waist, turning him around in his arms, and stooped down to press his forehead against John's.
"I never, ever want to find out," he said, eyes serious, before tilting his head to press his lips against John's.

John moaned at the sudden contact from his lover. Draping is arms around Sherlocks' waist; he pulled his lover closer to him. He could feel Sherlocks' clothed erection pressing against his own clothed erection. John broke away from the kiss to pull off his sweater. He could see Sherlock pulling off his coat, revealing the dark purple dress shirt that always made Johns' mouth slightly water. John swiftly planted a kiss on the pulse point on Sherlocks' neck earning a moan deep from within Sherlocks' chest.

"Meet me in my room John." Sherlock whispered in Johns' ear, causing a shutter of pleasure to run through Johns' body.

Sherlock smirked at the somewhat shocked look on John's face as he pulled away, unbuttoning his shirt as he headed swiftly to the bedroom; he'd been craving this he'd realized John had taken down multiple armed guards to rescue him.

John, always the one to surprise, recovered swiftly, and swept Sherlock off his feet, tackling him over the last few steps and pushing him onto the bed. Sherlock moaned as John straddled him, loving the feeling of the solid weight above him. He watched John's pupil's dilate at the sound, and responded by grinding up against John, eyes fluttering as he groaned at the sensation. He heard John gasp, and next thing he knew John's teeth were sinking into the patch of skin where his neck met his shoulder. Sherlock's back arched involuntarily, fingers scrabbling to get a grip in John's air and hold him against the sensitive point.

John loved the sounds Sherlock was making underneath him. Looking down he saw Sherlock panting slightly and his pupils were so dilated that his eyes looked black. He kissed Sherlock hard; nipping at his bottom lip asking Sherlock for permission, he used his to play with Sherlocks' and he loved the way Sherlock was fighting for dominance. Suddenly John found himself under Sherlock and felt Sherlock tugging at his shirt as if asking for permission to take it off. John lifted his torso to help Sherlock get the shirt off. He suddenly felt Sherlock sucking at the scar on his shoulder and he couldn't help but moan.

"Oh my Sherlock! Fuck that feels so -ungh" he was interrupted when Sherlock ground his hips against Johns'. Before they knew it they were both in just their pants, their trousers had been taken off John didn't know when. Not that he minded. He swiftly rolled his hips up and rubbed his fully hard erection against Sherlocks' earning another delicious moan from the consulting detective above. He felt Sherlock lean down and begin to whisper in Johns' ear.

"Let me top tonight," Sherlock whispered sending a jolt of pleasure down to Johns' erection. "I want to show you how much I appreciate what you did for me tonight." John groaned as he felt Sherlock slip his hand underneath the waistband of his pants and grab his achingly hard erection.

Sherlock smiled against John's neck as he felt as much as heard John moan beneath him. John always took such good care of him, now it was Sherlock's turn.

He let go of John, causing a growl, and reached over to rummage blindly through the bedside draw for lube and condoms, other hand buried in the blonde's short hair, pulling sideways to increase the space he had to lick and suck at. John's deep moan made Sherlock harder, if that was possible, and spurred him on to continue leaving a path marks down his lovers throat and shoulder as two now slick finger slid down to massage around his hole. Sherlock felt John exhale sharply as his muscles relaxed. He lifted his head to give John a quick, breathless grin before nipping gently on his left nipple as his index finger slid inside.

John moaned as he felt Sherlocks' finger enter him, he tended for a second before relaxing again, feeling the motion of Sherlock thrusting his finger in and out of Johns' entrance. He felt Sherlock pause and place another finger inside of him and started up the thrusting.

He heard Sherlock mutter something across the lines of "Oh John so tight." Suddenly he hit my prostate and it caused me to moan and arch my hips up. John felt Sherlock grin against his chest where he was slowly kissing and leaving love bites. John lifted his head and kissed Sherlock as another finger was added to the mix of stretching and thrusting that was happening in his entrance.

John moaned at the loss of contact when Sherlock pulled his fingers out wiping them on the sheet. Opening his eyes, he saw Sherlock putting on the condom, John moaned watching Sherlock running his hand down his shaft as he made sure the condom was on fully. He saw Sherlock look back at him and playfully started rubbing his hand along his own erection now covered with the condom. The sight of it made John moan with lust and reach for his own erection. He felt his hand get lightly slapped away and felt Sherlocks' thin fingers wrap around his rock hard erection and start to rub up and down the shaft.

Sherlock watched as John's head fell back with a moan as his thumb flicked over the head. Having thoroughly distracted his lover, Sherlock lifted one of John's legs over his shoulder to give the best angle, and slid slowly into his lover. He gasped, biting his lip as he tried to control himself and give John a minute to adjust.

One of John's hands untangled from the sheets to pull at Sherlock's curls, urging him down for a kiss. Sherlock complied, tongue sliding sensuously against his lovers as his fingers ghosted down John's sides, trying to distract him from the momentary pain. After a moment, John pulled away to lock eyes with Sherlock, and Sherlock couldn't but moan when John gave him a small nod.

It hurt John at first when Sherlock entered him. Slowly the pain subsided and John pulled Sherlock down to him and kissed him hard to distract himself from the pain. He pulled back and gave Sherlock a small nod, when he did that be heard Sherlock moan and begin a slow thrust. John couldn't help himself, his head fell back and he moaned. John gasped as Sherlock changed the angle of his thrusting and hit his prostate dead on drawing a growl from deep within Johns' chest. He felt Sherlock speed up his thrusts and felt his erection being rubbed at the same pace. Sherlock was so close, John could feel it. He wasn't going to last much longer either.

"Sh-Sherlock! I'm so close!" John couldn't help but wrap his legs around his lover; he wanted to feel all of Sherlock inside of him. He suddenly felt Sherlock let go of his erection and slow his thrusts.

Sherlock must have leaned down because he whispered in Johns' ear, "Don't cum yet, I want to make this last." The growl in Sherlocks' voice made John even harder, if that was even possible. John couldn't help but grip the bed sheets hard, he needed to stay in control or he was going to flip Sherlock over and ride him until he came, screaming Johns' name doing so. With that image John groaned and used one hand to grip Sherlocks' hair. With a little force, he pulled Sherlocks' head back to reveal his long neck. Locating the pulse point in Sherlocks' neck again, John sucked hard this time wanting to leave a mark that he knew Sherlock wouldn't be able to hide unless be wore his scarf. He also knew that Sherlock wouldn't hide the mark just because it would bother Anderson and Donovan. John was quickly pulled out of his thoughts when Sherlock gave a particularly hard thrust into Johns' entrance and caused the doctor to growl into Sherlocks' neck.

Sherlock trembled from the twin sensations assaulting him from his neck and his erection. He'd told John to hold off, but he wasn't sure how much longer he could last himself against the wave of pleasure. His fingers dug into John's hips, almost certainly leaving crescent shaped marks, and adjusted his angle slightly to make sure each slow, deliberate thrust brushed against John's prostate on the way in and out.

"Joh-ah..." he tried to speak, but John just bit down harder on what was definitely going to be a distinctive purple mark, and his words were cut off in a gasp. He thrust harder in response, still keeping his hand of John's erection, and wondered distractedly whether John could come from this alone.

John could tell that Sherlock was intentionally brushing against his prostate slowly with every thought. John was going to lose control. John now knew how Sherlock felt when he was being teased by John. He now knew why Sherlock enjoyed being topped. John was remembering how Sherlock looked the last time after they made love, that image made John lose all control he had left.

"SHERLOCK!" John roared as he came all over his and Sherlocks' stomach. He could feel Sherlock was close; he leaned up and started sucking on the small spot behind Sherlocks' ear. He felt Sherlock lose control and speed up his thrusting. As Sherlock sped up his thrusts became harder and more erratic. And then he came.

"JOHN!" Sherlock shouted as he came hard.

Oh god, oh god, Sherlock was sure he was going to have a heart attack as he watched John come apart untouched. There was no way he could hold on with that sight before him, so he let go and screamed his release.

It took a minute or two for his brain to check back in. When it did, he found John nuzzling gently nuzzling his neck where he'd left that mark minutes earlier. He pulled out slowly, making sure not to hurt the man beneath him, throwing the condom away with one hand as he grabbed a couple of tissues to clean John up. That done, he pulled John close, pressing a kiss to his forehead and both cheekbones before to meet his lips.

"I love you," Sherlock murmured between kisses, a gentle smile on his face which was reserved solely for John.

It felt odd when Sherlock pulled out. John felt empty; he didn't like the feeling at all. He whimpered at the loss of contact. He felt Sherlock get up for a second and felt himself being wiped off by Sherlock, and then he was pulled into the arms of his lover. He felt Sherlock kiss his forehead, both cheekbones, and then his lips. In between the kisses, Sherlock said the three most important words Sherlock would ever say to John.

"I love you." Murmured Sherlock, hearing those words made John feel whole.

"I love you too Sherlock, more than anything." John replied as he felt Sherlock lay comfortably in his arms. Feeling content, John held Sherlock close and closed his eyes drifting off to sleep.

Sherlock smiled at John's words; repetition usually irritated him, but he'd never tire of hearing those words. He watched John drift to sleep, and for once decided that it might be a nice idea to join him.