Author's Note:

The first half of the chapter deals with Thomas. The second half deals with Sherlock and John. Thank you to everyone who is reviewing and/or subscribing to this story already!

Thomas had heard them arguing and he couldn't stop himself from all the tears. Maybe if he ran away everything would be okay. He had slipped out of the room when his parents had been distracted and out the front door. He was certain Mrs. Hudson had seen him but maybe she wouldn't tell on him. He was running blindly down the sidewalk, tears still streaming down his face.

The black car slowed down beside the running boy, the window rolling down. "Oi, Thomas!" Lestrade poked his head out the window. "Want to come to our house for a bit?" The car stopped and he got out, moving to cut the boy off the best he could. "Thomas, what's wrong?"

Thomas threw himself around Lestrade almost immediately in a tight hug. Besides Sherlock, the Detective Inspector was the one person who he was particularly attached to. He wanted to grow up to be just like Uncle Gregory. He wanted to work for the Yard and solve crimes and fire people like Anderson.

"You are all right now," Lestrade muttered as he picked Thomas up with a small groan. "You have grown a bit," he said with a soft laugh, climbing into the back of the car. It was best to get him off the streets as soon as possible. Everybody but Thomas knew the dangers of the boy being alone. Granted, it had been nearly three years since he had been rescued but they all tried to play it safe.

Thomas nodded and followed after his favorite uncle. He clung to Lestrade's arm. "Got in a fight at school today," a sniffle, "and when we got home Dad started yelling at Daddy about stuff…and…" He trailed off with a shrug and another sniffle.

"Daddies fight sometimes, mate. That's how it is. They weren't yelling about you or at you, I am sure." Lestrade smiled and used his free hand to ruffle the boy's hair. "How about we make spaghetti for dinner tonight? I happen to know it is your favorite." He grinned, chuckled, and looked at his nephew. "Also, I know the boy you are talking about and I think he is a tad afraid of you after today," he said like it was a big secret.

Thomas looked up at his uncle with wide eyes. "Really? He's just so mean! He says mean things to me and about my daddies! And…and…he's just a stupid jerk who deserves to die!" He bit down on his lip hard but it was too late, the words had already slipped out. Was he going to go to jail now? "I didn't mean…I…he just…" The words tumbled out of his mouth so quickly he couldn't form a coherent thought.

Lestrade composed himself, looking down at Thomas with a lop-sided smile. "Oi, we don't ever wish that on people, yeah? You can say he is mean, which he is, but you don't ever say that." He squeezed the boy's hand, yanked him a bit closer to comfort him. "I am sure your daddies will take care of the problem and if not I know for a fact Uncle Mycroft will." The family was going to comfort Thomas the best they could. "Can you promise me no fights? If you go a month without one I will let you come into my office for a few hours. You'll be like a real-life Detective Inspector."

"Sorry Uncle Gregory," Thomas muttered. He pouted a moment before looking back up at Lestrade with big eyes. "Really? Please? Oh, please oh please oh please!" He clawed a bit at his uncle's shirt in excitement before he finally calmed down. "Dad wants me to play rugby but I don't want to really. I am afraid if I say no, I'll disappoint him. I like singing but that's a sissy girly thing and just one more reason for that prat to pick on me."

Lestrade grinned as the car came to a stop in front of the Holmes manor, a place they had decided to stay and call home. "You like singing?" He asked softly, clearly curious at the statement. "Have you told your Daddy that? Perhaps you two could make a song with his violin?" He opened the door and let Thomas slide out before him, grabbing his hand and leading him toward the front door. "How about I talk to Dad for you? If you don't want to play rugby then we shouldn't force you to."

Thomas always loved coming to the manor. It was so big and cool. So many neat things to see. It was like a new adventure every time he came. He shook his head. "Daddy and Dad don't know. They are always busy working or paying attention to Amy to notice me. Dad says they don't love her more, but…" He trailed off with a shrug. He had just got done crying and he refused to keep doing it. He sniffled and shrugged again. "If I play rugby, will Dad love me more?" He looked up at his uncle with moist eyes.

"Mate..." Lestrade picked Thomas up with a smile, holding him close. "They love you more than you will ever know. Do you know how many times your Dad texts me and says how proud he is of you? How you constantly amaze him? Want to see one?" He pulled his mobile from his pocket and pulled up John's message conversation. "This was from two days ago." He held it up for Thomas.

He was singing in the shower tonight. Sounds a bit like you. Know anybody who can do singing lessons or something like that? Think it might make him happy. Saw his grades today, too. Smart just like Sherlock. Want a crime solver? Think I found the next Chief. -JW

"See? That's is from your Dad. I am pretty sure he is all right with you singing and he never texts me like that with things about Amy," Lestrade said as he put his phone away. "If you choose not to play rugby then Dad will be fine."

Thomas read the text over and over again. He had to resist the urge to pull the mobile close to his chest and hug it. He hugged Lestrade instead. "Uncle Gregory, I love you. You are the best uncle in the whole world." After the hug he followed his uncle into the manor, running to give his grandma a hug. She was the nicest lady he had ever met. Although when he first met her, he thought her to be scary.

"Best uncle in the world? That hurts my feelings." Mycroft came around the corner, Siger stumbling after him in excitement. The little boy was just a bit older than Amy. Short brown hair, much in the style of Lestrade's, and the brightest green eyes.

"'Mas?" Siger squeaked excitedly, tugging at his Dad's pant leg. Mycroft looked down at him and nodded, watching the little boy scamper through the foyer to try and tackle his older nephew.

Thomas dropped his gaze when he hear his other uncle speak. "I…uh…" He kicked at the floor lamely but when he saw Siger running at him, he smiled. He fell dramatically from the 'tackle' and held onto his cousin so the smaller boy could land safely on top of him. He laughed and tickled Siger's stomach.

Siger giggled and forced himself away from Thomas's arms, looking at him with a wide grin. "'Mas! Wanna play? Les' go play!" He stood up, his socks sliding on the clean wood floor, as he darted toward the garden in the back yard. Lestrade watched before looking at his husband, a lop-sided smile on his face.

"You two be careful, don't break anything," Mycroft stated with a warm smile before his gaze was passed off to Nancy. "Suspended for a week," he muttered. "Fighting because a kid was making fun of him for John and Sherlock being married. Singing lessons?" He glanced at Lestrade who merely rolled his eyes and walked off toward the kitchen.

Thomas gave a dismissive wave at Mycroft and ran after Siger, pretending to have trouble keeping up and lagging behind the little boy slightly.

Nancy narrowed her eyes a moment. "People really need to sod off," she muttered. She soon smiled. "Singing? Thomas? Does he want to take lessons? I'm sure I can get him a wonderful instructor to tutor him privately."

Mycroft smirked a bit at Nancy before watching Lestrade go into the kitchen and grab a beer. "We have got quite the tutor under our roof. Gregory is actually a fantastic singer and I think he woud do a wonderful job of giving Thomas singing lessons," he said proudly. Lestrade shook his head but smiled, clearly going to accept that challenge. "He is very comfortable with my husband as it is. Why not?"

Nancy smiled and clapped her hands together once in excitement. "Oh that would be wonderful! Gregory, would you do that for Thomas? I am sure he would love it and he is already quite fond of you already!"

Lestrade smiled and looked at his husband. "Oh, you are paying me back for this," he said to Mycroft, who merely winked. "Mum, it wouldn't be a problem. I don't really sing all that much but it shouldn't be a problem. I will see what I can do." He smiled at his mother-in-law and leaned into Mycroft, eagerly accepting the arm around his shoulders.

Nancy smiled at her sons. "Good. It would do the boy some good I think. Give him something to do that his is passionate about. I am going to check on the children. The last time they played in my garden, the gardener spent a weak replanting everything in their path."

John knocked once more. "Thomas?" After a long beat of silence he opened the door, standing still in the doorway before going to pick up Amy. "Sherlock?" He returned to the living room with Amy crying on his shoulder, face red and dog stuffed animal shoved against John's chest. "He has gone and run off," he stated softly as he bounced on the balls of his feet to try and calm their daughter down. "What now? He thinks we are mad at him."

Great. One more thing to worry about. Sherlock sighed. "Knowing my brother, he has probably already picked up Thomas." He withdrew his phone and sent a text to Mycroft.

If Thomas happens your way within the next three to five minutes, let me know. – SH

If he didn't hear anything from his older brother by then, he would go out and look for their son.

John glanced at Amy with a small smile when she fell back asleep, thumb wedged in her mouth. "Oi, bad habit," he whispered with a bit of a frown, gently pulling it from her mouth and earning a disgruntled noise in her sleep. He glanced at his husband before turning to lay her back down. As he shut the door he just stood at the top of the stairs, going down slowly and staring at his husband. "What are we doing wrong, Sherlock?" He asked weakly, clearly looking defeated.

Uncle Gregory has already been deployed. We have found him. Going to keep him here for a bit. -MH

Sherlock snorted a bit as he read the text from Mycroft and then turned his attention to John. "Nothing. Thomas is just upset. Uncle Gregory," it never failed to be funny to him, "picked him up. He will stay over there for bit. Play with Siger." That was still weird to think about. "He hasn't seen his uncles or younger cousin in awhile, so maybe it will do him some good." He gave his husband a small reassuring smile. "Come here Love." He picked up Hamish and set the cat on the floor so John could sit on his lap, or preferably straddle him. They couldn't do much with Amy sleeping nearby but maybe he could distract his husband with snogging.

John let his shoulders fall forward, a frown etched on his lips. They were ghastly parents, weren't they? At least with two children. Thomas thought they favored Amy but she was younger. Naturally she needed more attention. He sighed and walked toward his husband, slowly straddling him. "I am a rubbish father," he muttered as he lowered his mouth to Sherlock's neck and gently sucked on it, one hand yanking his husband's shirt from his trousers and easily sliding under it to scratch gently at his skin. "Thomas deserves better than me."

"Well, if you are a rubbish father than I guess I am too. We are both raising Thomas, so it is both our responsibility." Scratching. God, John was scratching him and sucking on his neck. Sherlock couldn't help the small moan as he tilted his head back so his husband could have more access. At this rate he was certain he would get an erection in no time.

Decent distraction. John smiled a bit and pulled his mouth away from Sherlock's neck with a 'pop.' "We haven't shagged in six days," he muttered against his husband's skin, biting his bottom lip. It had been quite the six days of solving a private case that, honestly, was a shock for Sherlock to even take. A cheating wife, a family that came from wealth. At some point, a point where John had completely lost track of the case, it had apparently got interesting to the point where the last three nights he had spent the night alone in bed. "You going to sleep in the bed tonight?" He asked desperately.

Sherlock smiled deviously. "I think I could be talked into that. We could let Thomas stay over with his uncles and maybe get Mrs. Hudson to watch little Sandi for awhile. Once Amy finishes her nap, we could have the night to ourselves?" He raised his eyebrows hopefully. Maybe they would do one of those role plays. They still hadn't done John's fantasy and it was something he thought about from time to time but a case would always distracted him.

"Good," John muttered in a rush, his hand moving roughly up Sherlock's shirt to pinch a nipple between his fingers. "Idea?" He muttered as he pressed his nose harshly against his husband's neck before he sucked on the skin again. God, he wanted Sherlock now. Amy's nap wouldn't be over for another hour or so. Obviously, once they were done, Amy would come back to the flat. It was weak but John was fairly sure he couldn't go a night without both of the children in the flat. He was hesitant about letting Thomas stay with Mycroft and Lestrade, even.

Wait. They were going to have to wait. Sherlock wasn't sure he could wait any longer. Not with John doing wonderful things to his body. He was already getting an erection and he couldn't help the whimper that escaped his lips. Ideas? Oh right. Should he share his initial thought? "I have been wanting to play out your fantasy since you told me about it, but we really haven't had time for games with having a family and work. Do you think we will have time for it tonight?"

Oh, that would be wonderful. John moaned and pulled his mouth away from Sherlock's neck, looking down at his husband through half-open eyes. "Please," he whispered with a nod, pressing their foreheads together. "Good. I want that. There is the alley behind the building. Needs to be outside," he added. He wanted to have his husband's cock in his mouth now. It was going to be rough and perfect. Then he would get to have Sherlock to snuggle against in bed at the end of the night if they didn't have some freak case pop up.

"Yes, oh God yes. I have missed the foreplay ever since we did my one fantasy. Fuck, that had been amazing." Sherlock moaned as his thoughts ran rampant. His cock continued to get hard and he pressed up into John with a whimper. Shit. Waiting though. He had gotten himself all worked up and all he wanted to do was shag his husband. Maybe snogging could distract him for a bit. He pressed his lips to John's with a desperate and sloppy kiss.

John moaned into the kiss and eagerly returned it. Sloppy. God, Sherlock's sloppy kisses were his favorite. He pressed his own erection into his husband's stomach lightly. It was tough to wait but he had to. Scarring their daughter for life, especially this early in her childhood, might not end well for them. "'B-'bout an hour," he muttered as he pulled away from the kiss to take a hesitant breath, his chest heaving in excitement. They had gone this far, might as well tease Sherlock a little more. "Want you to fuck my mouth. God, I want you to hold my head and pull my hair and make me gag, please?" He swallowed hard and opened his eyes to meet Sherlock's gaze.

Sherlock whimpered at the thought. "Lasted an hour when you were my Pet. And that had been amazing. Tease me more? Work me all up?" The thought sent a shiver of excitement through his body. He wiggled his body into his husband's. His arms finally enveloped John in a hug, his hands sliding up the jumper easily to scratch at the skin lightly.

"Want you to u-aaah." John closed his eyes and clenched his teeth together, dropping his forehead against Sherlock's shoulder. Six days and he had turned into some whore. Just the scratching was leaving him speechless. "Want you t-to come on my face," he whispered with a small blush, keeping his eyes closed. That...was certainly something that he had never wanted to admit to Sherlock. It was something that he'd wanted to keep to himself...but it was all out of his mouth now. There was no taking that back.

Sherlock paused, unsure if he had heard John right. "You…did…really?" He wasn't judging his husband by any means, just a bit shocked at the statement. "Christ, why is that so hot?" He moaned at the thought. "Can…can I lick it off of you?" It didn't occur to him that most people would probably find such a statement disgusting. Another moan and he lifted his hips up into John again.

That made John looked at Sherlock with wide eyes and a bit of a smile. He wanted to do that? Oh...Oh, God. "Yes," he whispered hoarsely, pressing his hips forward with a breathy moan. Ever since the riding crop fantasy they had certainly tried some new things. Interesting things. "Of course you can," he replied with another gentle thrust of his hips. "Want you to do that."

Sherlock smirked a bit and then nodded. "Oh God, John. I can't wait to go outside and fuck your mouth. And to lick my semen off of your face." He moaned at the thought. He whimpered in his excitement, his hips thrusting up into his husband again. "I love you. You are the most amazing husband ever. I am glad we got married and decided to explore our sexual habits."

At that moment John giggled, burying his face into his husband's shoulder as he tried to control his laughter. "You are perfect because what you just said would never sound attractive to anybody else." He turned and placed a kiss on Sherlock's neck. "I'm so glad I married you so you couldn't use your horrid pick up lines on anybody else," he whispered before pulling away from his husband's neck to meet his gaze. "Mrs. Hudson will definitely know what we are doing."

Sherlock frowned a bit. Why was John laughing at him? "Is…that not common then?" He furrowed his eyebrows. "Pick up lines? I don't use those." A pause in thought. "Do I?" A smirk finally worked its way onto his lips. "Probably. She always does."

"Sherlock, love..." John smiled and bit and studied his husband. "You want to lick your semen off my face? Just...the way you say things." He grinned, blushed, and licked his lips. "You are wonderful," a pause, "And perfect." He took a deep breath and relaxed against Sherlock, trying to keep his focus away from his erection. "I love you and I can't wait to have your dick in my mouth. Roughly," he mumbled into Sherlock's clothes.

Sherlock raised his eyebrows and then shrugged a bit. "I am glad you make you happy." He smiled and bucked up into his husband again with a moan. "Tonight is going to be amazing Love." He moved his lips to John's neck and began sucking on it. "Just think, you will be sucking on me and I'll be thrusting up into your mouth. And then I will be licking your face, cleaning you off."

John moaned lowly, pulling his husband a bit closer with a gasp. Just words.. damn, why couldn't he be so wonderfully seductive when he talked like that? "Want you to gag me, hold my head in place." He swallowed hard and shifted against Sherlock, pressing his erection into his husband several times. "I want you to talk to me. Ask me if I like it, tell me to take it." Bold. Jesus, he had never been this forward with Sherlock in his life.

Sherlock moaned at John's words, thrusting up roughly into his husband. "Yes. Oh God yes." He closed his eyes as he envisioned everything perfectly in his mind. "John…" He moaned out his husband's name. He opened his eyes again and began sucking on John's neck again. "Has it been an hour yet?" He was getting restless and all this talk was making his hard on pulse and drip. It was a wonderful feeling really. "What about you? How do you want me to get you off?"

This was his fantasy after all. "Want you to lay on your back, let me use you. Legs spread, my cock against your stomach." He grinned and ran his finger nails down Sherlock's side through his shirt. "That all right? C-Can we do that?" He asked hesitantly. He liked this, being bold and not afraid to hide anything from his husband. He could get used to it. He looked down and laughed. "Christ, you are making a wet spot in your pants," he whispered in amazement, a hand reaching down to curiously trace the bulge with his index finger.

Sherlock shivered at John's words. "That sounds wonderful Love. Before or after I fuck your mouth?" He smirked at his husband and then moaned. "Can't help it. Just thinking about all of this is making me hard and I want this so bad. Everything. All of it. It will be amazing. Your mouth around me and having you inside of me, doing whatever you want to me." He moaned again, his lips moving to John's.

"After. A-After," John whispered before returning the kiss heatedly. He pulled away the moment he heard a small cry from Thomas and Amy's bedroom, closing his eyes in order to calm himself down. "After," he repeated softly as he slid off of Sherlock, falling straight on his backside on the floor with a grunt. "I think I am too turned on to walk," he muttered as he managed to get himself to his feet, swaying slight as Amy's cries got louder.

Sherlock had never been so happy to hear their daughter crying. God, he was a terrible father wasn't he? He stumbled out of the chair after John, helping to steady his husband. "Want me to get Amy or the lubricant? Was…was there anything else you wanted to use in the alley way?" Soon. So close now. They would be in the alley way making a ridiculous amount of noise in the London night air and the thought was extremely exciting to him.

John looked up at Sherlock and smiled a bit. "I will get Amy," he said softly, standing on his toes to give his husband a quick kiss. "No lube. Just handcuffs. Don't want my arms pushing you away, would you?" He smirked, took several steps back, and finally turned to go up the stairs. After several moments Amy's cries quieted until she was talking.

"Dada, hungry. Can I has food, please?" Amy held on to her stuffed dog tightly, her thumb going straight into her mouth as John entered the kitchen and pulled a pre-made meal from the fridge.

"Of course you can, baby girl. You are going to eat dinner with Mrs. Hudson tonight," John told her, much to her delight. She grinned around her thumb and nodded as he headed down the stairs, dropped her off with a knowing glance from their landlady, and sprinted back to the flat.

No lube? Was John planning on shagging him without lubricant? God, he would be sore awhile but this was his husband's fantasy and he wasn't going to mess it up. He owed John, after how amazing his husband had been for him during his fantasy. He hurried and grabbed the handcuffs, getting the key as well just in case. He smirked when he saw John come back, twirling the handcuff around on one finger.

John nearly tripped over the last stair, stumbling into the flat with a foolish grin. Sherlock. Handcuffs. Christ, this was going to be wonderful. He moved forward, one hand curling around the back of his husband's neck to bring him down for a kiss, the other palming Sherlock through his pants. "So hard for me already. I must be quite the tease," he whispered against his partner's lips. "I am going to go down to the crime scene. Meet me there in five minutes?" He gave Sherlock another slow kiss before turning and walking out of the flat.

Sherlock whimpered and leaned into John's hand. He whimpered again at the loss of his husband. Five more minutes? He had waited this long. Five more minutes wouldn't kill him. He sent a quick text to Mrs. Hudson saying should she turn the telly on and loud in four minutes or leave the flat with Amy for ice cream or walk in the park within the next three minutes. He fidgeted with the handcuffs a moment before he put on his coat and scarf. Had to look the part of Sherlock Holmes called to a crime scene, right? He smirked to himself, forced himself to calmly walk down the stairs and outside. He entered the alley, his eyes already taking in everything around him.