Sherlock hesitated when he reached the door of the bedroom. He glanced over at the bed where he could make out the sleeping form of one John Watson. That moment of hesitation was his mistake.
"If you leave this flat I can guarantee I won't be here when you get back," John stated from the gloom.
Sherlock frowned at how clear John sounded. He thought for sure John had been sleeping when he had gotten out of the bed and dressed.
"She needs my help," Sherlock replied.
"And what do I get?" John asked. "More time to lie? Another opportunity to watch you flirt with The Woman? Or rather watch her put her filthy hands on what doesn't belong to her? Are you really that afraid of admitting to the world you care? That you are capable of the love you once readily dismissed as useless?"
"John, I'm trying to protect you."
"Protect me?" John's voice rose with a slight squeak. "I can protect myself, Sherlock. What I can't seem to do is keep you from being pulled into this madness you insist on diving into headfirst. Might I remind you of Moriarty? Perhaps of the fact you're quite positive Irene Adler is working with Moriarty?"
"Was."
"Doesn't matter, Sherlock. You're so insistent on playing their games that maybe you should go. However, I will inform you that before you do leave that I'm through with yours."
"We aren't playing a game," Sherlock said.
"Certainly seems like it," John shot back. "The most elaborate game of hide and seek I've played. You've forced me to hide my feelings for you. And every time I lie to another innocent woman about it, it gets harder to remember why I stay."
Sherlock stiffened at John's words.
"Turn the lights on. If you're really leaving, I'd like to see you one more time."
Sherlock complied slowly, aching at the resignation in John's voice. He looked at the doctor as John sat up, letting the sheets slide down to reveal his bare chest. John's tousled hair reminded him of what the two of them had done just hours before. Sherlock's heart clenched at the thought of leaving this giving man who had complied with Sherlock's request to keep their relationship a secret. With the exception of Mike Stamford, the only people that knew about John and Sherlock were John and Sherlock.
"So?" John glanced at Sherlock then pulled his knees to his chest and set his chin on them before he started staring at the dressing table. "Go, Sherlock. I'm sure the two of you will have a very lovely life together. Perhaps you could have a threesome with Moriarty. Just do send a warning before you all decide the world is too pathetic to keep spinning."
"I do not wish for the world to cease its existence."
"Could have fooled me."
"And I could never find in Irene what I find in you, John. She only intrigues me."
"You once said that to me, Sherlock. Do you remember the conversation we had after Moriarty left us at the pool?" John sighed and shook his head. "I suppose not. I yelled at you quite a bit for letting a murderer go free."
"I'm sorry," Sherlock told him.
John gave him nearly the same startled expression Sherlock had seen when Sherlock had apologised to Molly. Only now it was more open and Sherlock could see the hope in John's eyes before it all disappeared into resignation and a reluctant acceptance.
"Me too," John returned quietly. "I suppose I should be happy that I was able to have your heart and attention as long as I did. I always knew it wouldn't last forever."
"No," Sherlock stated firmly. His hands clenched at his sides as he took an awkward step back towards the bed.
"Yes, I know, Sherlock. Maybe you shouldn't agree with me so vehemently. I'm not against kicking your arse right now before you go save your girlfriend. Mess up that gorgeous face of yours so she'll have to wait a bit before she can start slapping it herself."
"No. I meant you're wrong. And I was wrong."
The stunned look returned to John's face.
"I thought Sherlock Holmes is never wrong."
"Sherlock Holmes is allowed to be…," Sherlock paused, closed his eyes, took in a deep breath then reopened them to see that John was watching him expectantly, "human."
"Some of those noises you made last night were pretty inhuman," John retorted.
Sherlock found himself smiling and was rewarded with a wry grin from John Watson before he quickly turned back to sombre.
"John?"
"Are you still going after her?"
"Yes."
"I thought so." John got out of bed and Sherlock enjoyed the view of the ex-soldier's bare back and arse before John could put on his dressing robe. He turned back to Sherlock as he tied it closed. "We are going to have another discussion about you chasing after people who should not be allowed to wander about creating the havoc they do. She and Moriarty very clearly belong in prison. I should not condone your actions, but as long as you understand their activities are not ones you should be emulating I suppose I can be satisfied with that."
"I'm not stupid, John," Sherlock muttered.
"Not in the obvious ways," John pointed out. "Might I remind you about, well, quite a few things. Amongst them the solar system."
"I can very well leave you here," Sherlock informed him. "Just because you're under the very correct assumption I love you does not mean I have to take you everywhere with me. I can help Irene very well on my own."
"And then who will lie to Mycroft?" John asked. "He doesn't believe most of the things you say already, but apparently I have no reason to be deceitful."
"You're a terrible liar."
"More of a reason for him to not suspect me," John responded.
"Should all of this deception make me want to kiss you?"
"I'd be disappointed if it didn't."
Sherlock closed the distance between them quickly, eager to kiss the other man. They both fell onto the bed with hands going into hair, soft moans emitting when one touched a sensitive area. Especially when Sherlock played with John's nipples. That had been a joyous surprise to Sherlock who insisted on a variety of experiments, which John went along with good-naturedly.
"Oh, God, Sherlock," John whimpered.
"Yes, John?" Sherlock knew he sounded smug, but he deserved to be.
"Shut up," John muttered. He arched underneath Sherlock as the consulting detective wrapped a hand around his very erect cock and began to stroke it. "Not fair. I can't repay you when you're dressed."
"I've a flight to catch."
"We're still discussing this when you get back," John stated before his voice became a series of whimpers and stilted breaths.
John eventually managed to grab a handful of Sherlock's hair and tugged on it a bit forcefully so the man would look at him. Sherlock stopped stroking him and went still at the determined look John wore.
"Do you understand me, Sherlock? It's no longer a game. Not between you and Irene. Not between Irene and Moriarty. And certainly not between Moriarty and yourself. People have died, Sherlock. Too many people."
"I know, John," Sherlock whispered. His eyes flashing briefly with guilt. "I will stop him."
"I know," John returned softly. He ran a hand down the right side Sherlock's face, cupping it and giving Sherlock a sad smile. "I'm just afraid of the cost."
"I won't lose, John."
"You don't know that. I have complete faith in you, Sherlock, but sometimes not even faith can save us."
"Did it save you?" Sherlock inquired.
John stared at Sherlock, pursing his lips at the other's unreadable expression before relaxing into a grin. He leaned up to place an affectionate peck on a bemused Sherlock's lips.
"In the best way," John answered.