Angel-Castiel : *^^* Thank you so much...I'm blushing
Miss Crookshanks : sexy time in this chapter too (but drama first!)
The Science Of Seduction : :-) I wouldn't say no to Sherlock either ;-)
FoxyWolfyPlushie : there will be another chapter after this one (a short one), and it will be the last for this story, but I have another one in mind :-)

Once again thank you for your support!
Don't be shy and review :)

Here comes the chapter 4.
Enjoy!

Chapter 4 - Don't let me be misunderstood

Where is he?

It's been hours since he burst out.

I've been to the crime scene, alone. I've solved the case, the undertaker case, good name for his blog.

I've texted him twelve times.

I need him to come back.

I want him home.

Now.

2:03 pm "Come back. Crime scene's waiting. SH"

2:07 pm "Hurry. Needed at the crime scene now. SH"

2:14 pm "On my way. Meet me there. SH"

2:15 pm "Could be dangerous. SH"

2:21 pm "You are missing all the fun. SH"

2:48 pm "Where are you? SH"

5:55 pm "I'm home waiting for you. SH"

6:28 pm "Something happened? Where are you? SH"

6:44 pm "John, you scare me. Answer me please. SH"

7:06 pm "John I miss you. SH"

8:01 pm "Come back. Please. SH"

8:39 pm "Please. SH"

It was almost midnight when John opened the 221B Baker street's door. He climbed the stairs slowly. He didn't know what he would find inside and was not impatient to know. He came back, he had to, he wasn't as irritated as he was when he left but he still could feel anger burning in his stomach. He pushed the apartment's door, mind blurred by unwelcome thought when he saw a flash of brown curls and someone was wrapping himself around him, holding him so close he couldn't breath. Thankfully his brain connected the sensation with Sherlock's body or his answer could have been really aggressive. He felt kisses on his cheeks, eyebrows and nose.

"Worry...why...where...John...John" he heard. Sherlock seemed distressed. It felt wrong.

"Sherlock..." he couldn't say more since his mouth was taken in a burning kiss by the mad man who was holding him.

"Where have you been?" the detective whispered before kissing him again "I was worried sick, it was unbearable."

"Sherlock..." he tried to loosen the grip around his arms but Sherlock didn't let him.

"I've left you messages." His eyes where mad, his face paler than ever and John felt bad for causing such distress.

"Sherlock," he said, his voice louder and steadier, "Sherlock calm down please. "The detective froze and his bright blue eyes locked with the doctor green one's. John felt dizzy for a second but kept his resolution to talk to Sherlock even if he didn't know exactly how to phrase his thoughts now that he was in front of him. He pushed against Sherlock's chest once more and he loosened his grip a little.

"What is it John." Sherlock's voice was cold and the doctor felt ill at ease.

"Sherlock, why did I leave earlier?" he finally managed to ask.

"You...you were upset?" He looked puzzled, as if he just realised the fact "Why were you upset John?"

John felt the ball of anger in his stomach but refrained from letting it out. Sherlock called himself a sociopath, it wasn't without reason "Yes, I was upset, can you remember why?"

"I asked you to help me, I needed data about the bites and..."

"No you didn't." John cut off.

"What?" Sherlock looked puzzled again, definitely a wrong expression to see on his face.

"You didn't ask."

"I asked you to take off your shirt and lay on the floor."

"That's not asking, that's ordering." Sherlock opened his mouth to speak but didn't, he was thinking.

"Do you remember biting me hard, do you remember I told you you were hurting me?"

Sherlock's eyes opened wide. "I hurt you?" He tried to unbuttoned John's shirt to be sure he didn't leave a mark but John took his hands.

"Do you remember?"

The detective's face was blank. "No...No I don't." suddenly he freed his hands and stepped back from John. He was struggling with his thoughts.

"Sherlock?" John got no answer, the detective was lost in his thoughts, lips moving, eyes unfocused "Sherlock look at me." he put his hands on each side of the brown-haired man's face and caught his eyes "Sherlock I'm here."

"But you were gone." Sherlock's eyes filled with tears. God when did he become over sensitive like that?

"Had to calm down."

"You are mad at me?" Teardrops fell from Sherlock's eyes. Sherlock is crying, for god sake, he is actually crying. John pulled Sherlock closer and kissed his wet lips and then licked the tears of his cheek.

"Sherlock stop crying." he laughed nervously "Never thought I would say that in my life"

"Are you mad at me?" the tall brown man asked again sniffing loudly

"I was and somewhere inside me I still am. We have to talk about things, important things, at least for me." Sherlock nodded frantically. "Whatever you want John"

John sighted, if Sherlock was about to react so erratically all the time it wouldn't be an easy conversation.

"Let's sit on the sofa."

They sat face to face, Sherlock lifted his red-rimmed eyes to look at John sheepishly, and the doctor felt like the bogeyman. Oh no Sherlock I'm not at fault here you won't make me feel bad, he thought.

"Sherlock..." maybe, I should forbid myself from beginning each phrase with his name, maybe I should refrain myself from wanting to hold him, maybe...

"This morning I was very happy," he said and Sherlock frowned not liking the past tense "You showed me you could have feelings." past tense "Our relationship changed," stop that "for the best," thank you "but only half an hour later you did something..." I'm so sorry "hurtful." Sherlock's eyes widened, he looked miserable "It felt so bad..." John's voice trailed off.

After a short silence he cleared his throat and spoke again. "You used me as part of one of your experiments." He searched Sherlock eyes and found them, he was listening, processing "Sherlock I may be yours but I'm not an object. It was the first time, and the last time. I told you I didn't want to change you, it's still true since you've never done this before," he let the words sink in Sherlock's brain "Do you understand what I've said? Have I been clear?"

A minute passed before the detective nodded, John realized he had stopped breathing and gasped. Sherlock cupped his cheek.

"John," he said, his voice calm and clear "I am sorry, really sorry. I can't erase what happened but I can explain to you what was in my mind at this time, it may not be comforting or anything but since you told me how you felt I have to do the same." He moved his hands to seize John's "As you know, I value my intellect more than anything, without my brain I'm nothing, without it I'd die." John flinched "When I found I couldn't help myself thinking about you even when I tried." John freed his hands from Sherlock's, another childish reaction he noted "I found myself weakened," John frowned, the ball of anger in his stomach jumped, "but, John, it was overwhelming. At this time I didn't know what to do with it, when you found me in the bathroom I told you what I was going through and you left," John opened his mouth to speak but Sherlock stopped him "and came back an hour later. An hour during which my head was about to explode. You came back and I didn't have time to think properly. And I let you kiss me and I switched off my brain and pledged myself to you..." John got up abruptly and the ball went out of his throat.

"Are you telling me that you weren't in you right mind," he shouted "are you telling me I forced you, took advantage of you?" he grabbed his own hair with both hands in frustration.

"No I'm trying to explain the state of mind I was in but.."

"Did you think about me, about my state of mind? About what I was and still am going through?" John was hysterical

"John..."

"Following you, assist you and being the dumb guy behind the genius..."

"John you're not..." Sherlock got up.

"Of course I am." John took a step back "When you experimented on me you proved I was nothing more than a piece of junk." Him who thought that Sherlock was over reacting...

"John stop it !" Sherlock shouted too.

"So tell me, if I'm not a lab rat, what am I?" He asked pain distorting his face.

"You are the man I love John, that's who you are." Sherlock crossed the gap between them and wrapped his arms around his lover. "Don't say you're junk, don't ever say you're junk. You're the most human and sensitive person I've ever met, you touched me, you made...you made me feel, for real, I'm not used to it, it's completely new, I have to adjust, to find a balance, obviously I did wrong earlier, but I never meant to hurt you, that's what I wanted to say, you didn't let me finish." He loosened his embrace just to gaze at John's face. The man looked stun. "I love you." Sherlock repeated to make sure he was heard.

"How..." John whispered.

"Oh shut up!" Sherlock passionately kissed the man he loved and soon found him responsive. Sherlock pushed John back to the closest wall and kissed him again. His hands were under his shirt scratching his hips while he pressed his body against the doctor's.

John was trapped, even though he could free himself by force if he wanted to, and he surely didn't. He let his man have his way under his shirt and in his mouth. Sherlock had told him he loved him. Sherlock loves me he thought to himself. He felt another ball in his stomach but this one was made of butterflies. He pushed in Sherlock's embrace and the detective surprisingly misinterpreted John's intentions holding him tighter to prevent an escape.

"Don't go John, please." he said his head buried in John's neck. The doctor freed his arms and felt Sherlock's body stiffen.

He entangled his fingers in Sherlock's hair and lifted his head so he could lock eyes with the light blue ones. The pain and confusion he saw there were heartbreaking.

"Sherlock I don't want to go anywhere, especially if it's far from you." He paused waiting for the idea to sink in Sherlock's mind, the idea and what it implied, but thought it was safer to add "for at least the rest of the night I don't want you farthest than a few inches from me," he stretched to kiss his lover's lips.

"And tomorrow?" Sherlock asked still insecure.

"Sherlock I...I won't leave you...ever." He knew it was a promise full of consequences but he meant it and he wanted to chase the last trace of fear from his lover's eyes. "Do you understand what I say? Do you trust me?" he asked.

Sherlock nodded and relaxed a little, "So, a few inches..." he said sex in his voice. God this man could change his mood so fast it was almost scary, but this voice... John kissed Sherlock again and managed to reverse their positions, this time it was him pushing the brown-haired man against the wall. Sherlock growled loudly and pulled at John's shirt so strongly that he tore out the buttons witch rolled on the floor. John caught Sherlock's hips. "Bedroom?" Sherlock nodded "Yours?" A second nod. John led the taller man as he walked backwards. It took a little while since John kept on kissing Sherlock lips. The detective opened his bedroom's door and soon found himself flat on his back on the mattress feet still on the floor.

Shirt for shirt, he heard the buttons of his own fall in every corners of the room. Cold air brushed his skin for a second before being replace with the warmth of John's chest hovering over him.

The doctor kicked his shoes and socks off and sat astride Sherlock's lap, knees on the bed on each side of the man behind him. He stopped moving to watch the detective's face, lips, neck, chest, belly as if trying to choose where to start. He growled and went for the left earlobe and sucked and bit. He used one arm to lift himself and keep his balance while the other one trailed down Sherlock's chest.

"Is there anything specific you'd want me to do to you?" he whispered in Sherlock's ear.

"No, I mean... John you're the first person I allow to touch me this way. I don't have enough data to give you my preferences."

"Let's give you data then," he said "and by the way if you think you need more data about me, you have my permission to investigate."

John went for Sherlock's neck and bit hard and the brown-haired man gasped.

"John? Since I have the right to investigate..."

"Hum?" he was kissing his jawline now

"Won't you tell me you love me?"

"No," he said to his cheekbone before kissing it. If Sherlock thought he would disconcert him, he'd have to think twice.

"Why?" the detective cupped John's face to stop him and catch his eyes "Why?" he asked again unhappy to repeat himself.

"Because I don't want you to make me say it. When I'll say it, it will come from me."

"But you do love me ?" Although Sherlock's expression was unchanged, John could feel another wave of insecurity crashing in the detective's mind, it was really disturbing to see how he could be confused when it came to feelings, especially his own, his brand new feelings. "Don't you?"

"Would I do this if I didn't?" he kissed the brown-haired man feverishly.

Sherlock moved his hand to the back of John's head and slid his tongue in his mouth. His other hand was peeling his lover's shirt from his shoulders, pulling it out of his pants and throwing it on the floor. The detective wriggled on the bed and John followed, his mouth still connected with his man's. Suddenly Sherlock rolled them over.

"I think I like being on top," he said, a smile in his voice.

"How come it doesn't surprise me?" John panted, he was terribly aware of Sherlock's body pressing heavily between his legs.

Sherlock's right hand travelled along John's ribs and stopped at his waist, then he lifted himself to allow his hand to creep on John's belly and lower to unbuckle his belt and undo his pants buttons. The brown-haired man slowly pulled the pants down and John eased his way. He was now laying on his back with only his shorts...oh...now he was naked.

"Sherlock, that's not fair!" John sighed. Sherlock grinned and took off his shirt "Do you prefer that?" he asked as he pressed his lips on his lover's collarbone. John seized Sherlock's arse with both his hands and pulled him closer "I much prefer that but it's not enough." he added.

Sherlock rolled his hips and John moaned shamelessly loud.

"I like making you moan like this." the detective said rolling his hips again "And I like how...it makes me...feel."

Sherlock locked eyes with John "You do what nobody ever did John. You wake me from my sleep. I'm not sure I'll always be thankful for that because I think our bond will change lots of things and, as you know, I'm quite attached to my independence, especially when it comes to my brain, but we've already talked about that. The fact is I want you more than anything, I want you to be in my life and in my bed. I love you. Don't ask me how I, a sociopath, can say I love someone. It must be the first consequence of what you do to me, maybe it is the cause. For the first time in my life I don't want to over think, I just want to feel. Thank you John."

John was overwhelmed. He remembered the last time Sherlock had thanked him, he understood what it had meant, how important it was. He felt his vision blur and tears rolling from his eyes.

"Look what you do to me." John said.

"Are you sad ?" Sherlock asked quite alarmed

"No sherlock, I'm happy." he put one hand on the small of the brown man's back and the other behind his shoulder and pulled him until his upper body fully laid on his own "I'm like you Sherlock, I don't know what is happening to me, I only know that I want it, I want you and I want to be with you. So long for the not into romantic crap hey?" he giggled " anyway, I know it won't be easy, I expect some memorable arguments but I know we belong with each other, we are meant to be. Oh God that sounds cheesy." he giggled again but Sherlock's look stopped him.

"No, that sounds perfect." he said before kissing his lover's lips to signify that the talking was over.

John moved his hand from Sherlock's back to his waistband and slid it inside his pants and shorts to touch the soft skin of his buttocks. He growled and his other hand grabbed locks of brown hair pulling Sherlock's head closer, as close as he could without crushing his skull. He was full of lust for the man over him, it was scary and felt so good at the same time, it was giving in or run away. He gave in.

He rolled them another time and stripped Sherlock of his pants and shorts. Then he closed his mouth around him.

Sherlock's back arched and a low growl left his throat when he came in John's mouth. The doctor crawled along his lover's body and rested his head on his shoulder. He felt his heartbeat resounding in his chest and his jerky breath. He waited until the after effects of the orgasm faded. Sherlock wrapped his arms around John's waist and pulled him up to kiss his mouth, tasting himself on his lover's tongue.

His fingers ran up his back , caressed his neck, then he rolled John over to make him lay on his back. He kissed his way down John's body and parted his legs to sit between them. He bent over John's groin and paused there, eyes locked on his erect cock.

John didn't want Sherlock to do anything he didn't really want just to keep up with the rhythm he had chosen for them. "Sherlock you don't have to...OH GOD!".

The detective had taken John's full length in his mouth. He moved his head slowly, his right hand brushed John's balls and the blond man moaned. He moved his head faster and his tongue swirled around the pulsing cock. John knew he was close and gripped Sherlock's hair to warn him "Sherlock...". The brown-haired man locked eyes with his lover and moved a little faster. John's head rolled back as he came shouting his lover's name.

Sherlock watched his man's release with fascination and swallowed.

"I like it when you scream my name," he said while moving to lay along John's body. "I like your face when you come," he added kissing John's neck "and, I like your taste." He kissed his lips.

"You have data now." John panted.

"Need more," he purred, "I'll always need more."

They laid in bed, wrapped in each other's arms, legs entwined.

"The undertaker case," Sherlock said in the dark knowing that John wasn't asleep.

"What?" John said in a thick voice.

"You didn't ask about the case, the teeth marks case." The detective added

"Sherlock, we didn't have time for that." The blond man giggled. "So, what about this case?"

"I named it for you, for your blog."He kissed the top of John's head. "The man found in the park, you asked if he had had an attack. He had one, a heart attack. And he died." He paused for the sake of the dramatic effect. "A simple heart attack. But somebody saw him fall. A homeless man living in the park. He tried to help but didn't know how to revive him so he just punch the man's chest, which explains the bruises on the body. He was a man with no education but he knew something, something he remembered from his childhood's days in front of the TV. He knew how to recognise a living person from a dead one, he knew how the undertakers did to be sure. They bit the bodies. He bit the body lots of times because it was the only thing he could do. Then he left, he didn't want anybody to believe he killed the man. The police found him and took his teeth prints. He was still in the park, because he had nowhere to go."

"It's a sad story." John said. "What happened to him?"

"Nothing, he didn't kill anybody."

"Were is he now?"

"I don't know."

Both their phones rang at the same time to announce an incoming text.

John swore. "It's past three in the morning, who could text us in the middle of the night?" He reluctantly move to search in their pants pockets, all their clothes were on the floor, it took him a minute or two to find them. He came back in bed and tried to resume his position. They both read their message, the same message.

"Be at your place at ten in the morning. Be fully dressed. Both of you. Please. MH"

Sherlock sighed.

"How..." John said, "No, really I don't want to know."