It was three in the morning and Jim was sitting at his desk, leaning back in his chair with his feet propped up, contemplating the problem. He couldn't just force a confrontation with Holmes, no matter how much he wanted to. John had taken great pains to keep their relationship a secret from him and would most likely be angry if Jim just showed up at Baker street and told Sherlock the truth. He also couldn't just kill Sherlock, he supposed, because John probably wouldn't like that either. He couldn't do anything that would compromise his relationship with John. In the end, it would have to be something sneaky and Jim was good at schemes. So he started to plan.
"I was wondering where you'd gotten off to." John said standing behind his chair and running his hands down Jim's chest, slipping them underneath his dressing gown. Jim had been so lost in his head he hadn't even heard John come in. Jim turned his attention to John and in return he got one of John's lopsided grin. Jim was filled with a familiar ache that wasn't entirely painful but definitely intense. "Busy scheming? I'll leave you to it."
John turned to go and Jim's hand shot out and grabbed his wrist to stop him. "No, don't. Don't go." Jim winced at how pathetic he sounded. John nodded and closed the distance between them, ducking his head down to press his lips firmly against Jim's.
"Tea?" John murmured against Jim's lips.
"Don't you want to go back to bed?"
"Not unless you're joining me."
"Tea it is then."
John smiled before kissing him again. He pulled away and Jim kept his hand on him for as long as possible until their fingers drifted apart. Jim tried to work on his little problem but now his mind couldn't concentrate. All he could think of was John, in his kitchen, making him tea without expecting anything in return. Kissing John while he tasted like tea. Then his mind strayed to John doing the same for Sherlock, making him tea. John kissing Sherlock. The way Sherlock had grabbed John's arm possessively, not unlike the way Jim had just grabbed his wrist. Anger started boiling up inside him and he was up out of his seat in seconds, making his way to the kitchen.
He calmed down the moment he saw John standing in his kitchen, tapping his fingers on the counter while he waited for the kettle to boil. He grabbed John by the arm and spun him, swallowing the tiny gasp John made by crushing their mouths together. John only hesitated for a second and then began kissing back with just as much enthusiasm.
"What was that all about?" John asked breaking away when they were both panting with lips swollen.
"I forgot to say good morning." Jim shrugged.
John shook his head and chuckled, pushing his fingers up into Jim's hair and massaging the back of his head. "Good morning to you too." He muttered before tugging Jim forwards so their lips could meet again.
Jim put his hands on the counter and pushed his whole body flush against John's. He felt the stirring of John's arousal against his thigh and rolled his hips to help it along. John groaned and threw his head back, elongated his neck. Jim took the opportunity to lick and bite at the stretched skin.
"Jim, the tea." John reminded him.
"Let it go cold."
"Jim." John sighed in exasperation. Jim rolled his eyes and reluctantly moved away. He felt cold almost instantaneously and without thinking left the kitchen. Warmth, he needed warmth. So he went into the bathroom to his oversized, circular tub and started running himself a bath. He poured in some soap and watched the bubbles swirl and cloud the water.
When the water was high enough, he slipped off his dressing gown and stepped in. The water was just shy of scalding and Jim sunk into the heat willingly. "I can't remember the last time I had a bath." John said from the doorway.
"Care to join me?"
John shrugged and made his way over with both cups of tea. He placed one of the edge of the tub near Jim and placed his own on the other side. Dropping his own dressing gown on the floor next to Jim's, he took his time getting in, giving his body time to adjust to the heat.
"You're too far away." Jim pouted as John settled on the opposite side of the tub. John sighed, grabbed his cup and made his way over. Jim put his arms up, resting on the seal of the tub and John settled in next to him. He put his arm around Jim's waist and draped one of his legs over Jim's.
"Tell me another story." John requested, dropping his head onto Jim's shoulder and closing his eyes. Jim studied his relaxed face for a moment, watching as each of the wrinkles in his face disappeared.
"Really?"
"I like to hear it, like getting to know you." John mumbled sleepily.
"What do you want to hear?"
"Anything, anything you feel like telling me. Just something true."
"Something true?" Jim echoed in confusion.
"Right. Don't fabricate it or sugarcoat over something you don't think I'll like. I'm peeling away the masks, trying to find the man underneath. So tell me about him."
Jim's heart started beating very loudly and he had the sudden urge to kiss John for hours on end. He placed his finger under John's chin and raised his head so their lips could meet. John made a small sound of contentment and allowed himself to be kissed.
"Well?" John said expectantly when they finally broke apart. His eyes were open now as he reached for his tea.
"Close your eyes again."
"Why?"
"It'll make it…easier." Jim confessed. John just nodded and put his head back down. Jim talked, telling John stories he'd never told anyone before in his life. John just listened quietly, sipping his tea and not moving away from Jim's side, hand on Jim's hip, making lazy patterns with his fingers.
He told John about his first kiss with a girl named Marla when he was eight, how it had been the first time he'd joined in playing kiss-chase with the other kids. How he had very briefly considered becoming more social until he saw Marla kissing another boy and reconsidered.
When he told the story of the first time he'd killed someone with his bare hands, the hand on his hip tightened but John didn't pull away. Jim recounted the story of how he'd found his boyfriend from Uni in bed with someone else. How he'd choked the life out of the man, feeling the power of taking a life. How he'd later killed his boyfriend when he threatened to go to the police and turn Jim in.
He switched to a lighter topic and recalled stories of his grandmother. Her obsession with Agatha Christie, how she always wore bright pink lipstick and blush even if she was just going to the grocery store. How she dragged him to church each Sunday even though he hated it. She'd given him a chemistry set for his thirteenth birthday, saying it might finally be something to hold his interest.
He bragged a little when he told the story of how he'd made his first million pounds, by conning an American steel tycoon into buying a worthless piece of property. How he'd hacked into a jet engineering business, stolen the plans for their new jet and sold it to a rival company for ten million pounds.
John finally drifted off to sleep, gently snoring into Jim's neck. Jim smiled and pressed a soft kiss to John's temple. John's cup was empty so Jim placed it back on the edge of the tub and reached for his own, downing the now cold tea in one gulp. He kissed John again, this time on the lips. He was surprised when John kissed him back.
"Take me to bed." John said, his voice groggy.
Jim nodded and pulled the plug on the bath, letting the water drain. John leaned against him as they walked carefully into the bedroom. Jim grabbed a towel and dried himself, then quickly did the same to John. He deposited the other man on the bed, who immediately sank into the pillows, and Jim pulled the duvet over him.
"Where are you going?" John asked, face half buried in the pillows, his eyes barely open.
"Back to my evil plans." Jim replied with a grin.
"When I said take me to bed, that was a suggestive remark, not a request to be tucked in."
"John, you're tired." Jim pointed out.
"Yes, and…?"
"You're about to pass out."
"So?"
"John."
"Jim."
Jim rolled his eyes up to the ceiling and shook his head. John scooted closer so he could grab Jim's hand and pull him down. Jim went somewhat willingly, landing half on top of the army doctor. They began to kiss lazily, rolling around the bed, changing who was on top.
"I think I'm in love with you." John confessed when Jim was busy ravishing his throat. Jim went very still and got up so he could look at John's face to see if he was joking.
"Why do you say that?"
"Because you just told me some awful, truly dreadful stories –"
"- You asked." Jim interjected defensively.
"I know. And even after hearing about some of the terrible things you've done, I still want to be here. I still want you to touch me and kiss me and fuck me. It doesn't make any sense but it feels like love."
Jim stared unblinkingly at him for a long time. He didn't know what to say or do or think or feel so he stayed completely still.
"What?" John asked, shifting uncomfortably under Jim's gaze.
"If you're lying to me-"
"-I'm not, I wouldn't, I'm not. I mean it."
"Say it." Jim whispered, needing to hear the exact words.
"I love you." John reached up and gently caressed Jim's cheek. "God help me, I do. I've tried really hard not to and it's confusing as fuck because if anyone ever finds out, my entire life will go to shit. But I'm happy when I'm here, with you and god damn it why did you have to be so fucking amazing?"
Jim's lips slowly broke out into a wide smile until he was beaming down at John. "I'm amazing?"
"You are. You're amazing and clever and sexy and interesting and wonderful." Each and was mumbled against Jim's lips as John kissed him. "I like being here and talking to you. The sex is fantastic and you make me laugh, which I never thought would happen. You make me happy, which I think is the hardest bit to wrap my head around. But I don't think I ever stood a chance, not against the world's greatest criminal mastermind."
"You really didn't." Jim laughed and kissed John deeply. It didn't take long for the kiss to turn into sex, with John frantically reaching for the lube as Jim's lips explored every inch of John's torso. John gasped and writhed as Jim's fingers worked him open, pushing himself down against those probing fingers.
John put a pillow under his hips and tilted them up as Jim slid into him. John curled his legs around Jim's and they rocked together, slow and deep, kissing until they were sharing each other's air, exhaling while the other inhaled. Jim was dizzy and lightheaded but he didn't stop, he didn't dare stop. But John had more sense than he did and broke the kiss, panting heavily with his cheek against Jim's, rubbing them together.
"I love you." John said again and with one final thrust, Jim grunted and came. John gripped Jim by the shoulders and turned them so Jim was on his back. He grabbed the lube and poured some over his fingers, slipping them between Jim's cheeks. Jim arched up off the bed and John kneeled between his legs, grabbing his thighs and wrapping them around his waist. Jim's hips were at the perfect angle to John to push in and brush against that spot. Jim moaned loudly as John's thrusts became quicker and more desperate. John was chanting Jim's name breathlessly until a small cry tore it's way from his throat and he emptied himself deep inside Jim.
John eased out slowly and dropped onto the bed next to Jim. The other man scooted closer and wrapped his arms around him. "Say it again Johnny." Jim requested, nuzzling his face in the nape of John's neck.
"You know, you could say it." John reminded him, yawning with exhaustion.
"I'd already said it more times than you, I was just evening up the score."
"You don't need to keep score. Not everything is a competition."
Jim sighed impatiently. "Just say it Johnny."
John turned so they were facing each other before capturing Jim's lips and kissing him languidly. "I love you." John said cradling Jim's face in his hands.
"You know, you caved so easily. I had all these plans for how I was going to make you fall in love with me." Jim said with a fake put-upon sigh.
"Such as?"
"Steal you the Crown Jewels."
John laughed. "I'd look rubbish in a crown."
"Fine, I'll have the crown. You can have the scepter."
"What am I going to do with a scepter?"
"Anything you want, I suppose. Hit people with it?"
"Seems a bit dramatic."
"Whole world's a stage Johnny." Jim sing-songed.
John reached up and stroked the hair behind Jim's ear, staring into endless brown eyes. "I love you."
"You don't have to keep saying it."
"I want to. I don't think you've heard it enough in your life."
"No." Jim's face fell instantly. "No, don't do that."
Jim was up out of the bed, shoving the covers away, in a matter of seconds. John started at him in bewilderment. "Do what?"
Moriarty was pacing, tugging his hands through his hair angrily. "Don't make me the fucking victim." He shouted, pointedly not looking at John. "I'm not the fucking victim, I'm the villain. This doesn't change that." He gestured between the two of them but still wouldn't look at John.
"Jim." John said softly, trying to get the consulting criminal to calm down.
"Don't." Jim warned, his teeth bared. "Stop trying to rationalize things! You always do this. You can't understand how you fell in love with me. First you tried denial and now you're trying to make me good. Just stop it. I killed people because I wanted to. It has nothing to do with not being loved as a child or how many times my boyfriend cheated on me. People get cheated on every day without killing the person who wronged them. Stop making this about "oh poor me, mommy didn't love me enough" and realize this is just you trying to come to terms with the fact that you fell in love with a psychopath."
They both went quiet, the only sound in the room Jim's harsh breathing. John slowly got out of the bed and made his way over to Jim. He wrapped his arms around him and held him close, resting his chin on Jim's shoulder and running his hands up and down his back soothingly.
"Maybe you're right, this could be about me. But it's also about you. No one, psychopath or not, should have to go through what you did. No one should wake up to their mother trying to smother them. No one should walk in on their boyfriend shagging someone else. It's not pity, it's empathy. I'm trying to be comforting so you know I'm not like them."
"I know that." Jim said quietly, his hands finally moving up to embrace John back.
"Then let me do this for you. I can't change it but let me try to make it better, less painful."
"It's not painful, it doesn't matter."
"It does. Of course it matters. You wouldn't have told me those stories if they weren't significant. You could have told me anything and yet those were the ones you chose."
"You can't heal wounds that closed up a long time ago, Johnny."
"Just…shut up."
Jim's tongue darted out to lick his lips but he didn't say anything more. For a moment they stayed like that, in a companionable silence, just breathing and hugging. Jim closed his eyes and felt nothing but the heat of John's body, the strength of his arms around him. John was solid and strong, dependable and comforting. His breathing was slow and steady, calming just like his heartbeat.
"What happens now Doctor?"
"Now, we get into bed and you let me hold you until we both fall asleep." John replied, guiding them back towards the bed. They crawled in under the covers and found each other again, wrapping their arms around each other. As usual Jim placed his head on John's chest, ear resting just above his heartbeat. It didn't take long for John to drift off but Jim stayed awake, still working the problem. It was much easier, for whatever reason, when he had the sound of John's heartbeat in his ear.
"I love you." Jim said, taking John's arm and wrapping it more tightly around his waist. "And I'm going to keep you."
XXXX
They had a case, which was a relief. It finally felt like things were getting back to normal between Sherlock and John. John was anxious to help even if their last case together hadn't ended so well. Sherlock had been frustrated on the simplicity of the case and got angry when John tried to leave. He still seemed to think it was Mycroft John was seeing and had finally snapped a bit. The row was short and quick, with John pulling away and getting into a taxi to go to Jim's.
But now things were better or at least on their way to being better. Sherlock finally had a case that could hold his interest and had asked John to come along. They were sitting next to each other on their client's couch, John making sure there was enough space between them so that they weren't touching.
The client was a young woman named Jessica Samuels. She had had an affair with her boss and someone had found out about it. She was being blackmailed for more than she could afford and had asked Sherlock to help her find out the identity of the blackmailer. Her boss had taken her to some sex club, very exclusive, the kind of thing you needed an invitation to just to get through the door.
"We were careful. We were so careful. We always took separate taxis to the hotel, we arrived at different times. We never did anything at work. There's no way anyone could have known unless it was at that stupid club. He wanted to go, it wasn't even my idea. He thought it would be safe, that people would keep out secret because it was so exclusive."
"But they didn't?" John inferred.
"Apparently not." She snapped back in irritation.
"When does this club meet?" Sherlock asked, leaning his forearms on his elbows, fingers tented and resting against his chin.
"Every other week on Friday nights. They meet in this abandoned warehouse, I can give you directions if you'd like."
"Yes." Sherlock nodded and Jessica left to find a piece of paper and a pen.
"So what's the plan then?"
"We'll have to go to this club, have a look around and determine the most likely suspects of blackmail.."
"What? We're going to a sex club?"
"Well they're not exactly going to just give us a list of members, are they? Not to an highly exclusive club." Sherlock reasoned, getting to his feet.
"Sherlock, you need an invitation." John reminded him, jumping up off the couch again.
"And thanks to Ms. Samuels, we have one. All you need is the address and the password for getting in. She'll give us both, I'm sure." Sherlock was already slipping his coat back on, knotting his scarf around his neck.
"Sherlock, we can't just go to a sex club!" John tried again.
"Why not?" Sherlock asked, oblivious as to why the two of them at a sex club would be awkward for John.
"It's just, it's not on! What do you expect to ask people? They'll be there to shag, not be interrogated."
"We'll be fine. I'll be able to weed out people when we're there, it will all be fairly easy."
"Sherlock –"
"Ah, Ms. Samuels." Sherlock cut John off as their client walked back into the room. "And the password?"
"The Golden Apple." She told them and Sherlock nodded.
"We'll be in touch." He snatched the piece of paper out of her hands, turned on his heels and left.
"Uh, just let us know if you need anything else." John said trying to be polite as he followed after his flatmate.
XXXX
John really had no idea how he'd been talking into this. He was standing outside a warehouse in the suit Jim had given him, standing next to Sherlock, who looked impossibly gorgeous in one of his perfectly tailored suits. When John had tried to get out of it, Sherlock had insisted. When he tried to wear a different suit, Sherlock had said that they needed to look the part and anyone could tell how cheap his other suits were.
So when they got to the door and it slid open, Sherlock gave the password and no one gave them a second glance. John was extremely nervous and thought this whole thing was stupid. No one was going to want to talk to them and Sherlock would probably spend the entire time trying to ward off people's advancements while John stood awkwardly to the side trying not to hear people going at it.
Sure enough, as they walked through the warehouse, people kept eyeing Sherlock, a few of them licking their lips suggestively. He was also surprised to find more than a few people's gazes lingering on him. He would have been flattered if he wasn't so completely embarrassed by the whole thing.
The warehouse had been done up to look like an Arabian harem or something. The cement floor was covered in expensive looking rugs. There were large areas with sofas, areas with nothing but pillows and finally some beds with velvet curtains enclosing them to give people some privacy. Everything was done up in purple, gold and deep reds, the lighting dimmed to give it a more intimate atmosphere. Everywhere he looked, John saw piles of condoms and tubes of lubricant. Two women were in the corner on the floor, one using a dildo to pleasure the other. He wasn't sure if that was something provided or if they had brought it with them. Either way, he made sure not to stare for too long.
"What exactly do you think you're going to accomplish Sherlock?" John whispered harshly.
"Finding someone who looks capable of blackmail."
"And you're going to be able to tell that from one look?" John asked, crossing his arms over his chest defiantly.
"Look, whoever is blackmailing Ms. Samuels clearly saw her here. So our suspect is going to be here. We just have to wait."
"For what? It's not as if they're going to walk in and announce themselves."
"I'll be able to tell." Sherlock replied confidently and headed off to have a look around. John was about to follow him when someone grabbed him and covered his mouth, pulling him through one of the curtains and onto a bed.
"What the –" he started but stopped when he turned to see his abductor. "Jim, what the hell are you doing here?"
"Oh, I've been here before." Jim grinned, taking John by the shoulders and pushing him down against the pillows.
"Jim, I really don't have time for this. Sherlock's here." John said desperately as Jim started sucking at his neck.
"You're wearing the suit Johnny, I couldn't keep my hands off you even if I wanted to, and I don't want to." Jim said, reaching down and palming John through his trousers.
"Jim. He has no sense of propriety, he'll have no problem barging in on us.'
"So? Tell me the idea doesn't get you a little bit excited."
"It doesn't." John said through gritted teeth, hoping Jim would believe his lie. In fact the idea of Sherlock barging in on them was a strangely thrilling one, giving the evening a sense of danger that John so craved.
"Liar." Jim said with a smirk and ducked his head down to kiss John again.
"Still, it doesn't mean we should do this."
"Come on Johnny, don't be a kill-joy. You wouldn't be saying no if you knew the trouble I'd gone to –" Jim snapped his mouth shut.
"To what? To find me? How did you even know I was here?" Jim snorted and gave him a look like he was an idiot. "Right, stupid question. You pretty much always know where I am. It can't have been to find me once I was here, you managed that almost right away. So what trouble did you go to?"
"It's nothing, kiss me." Jim said trying to evade the question and capture John's lips again. John pushed Jim away and got up so they were kneeling face to face on the bed.
"Jim, what did you do?"
"Nothing!" Jim insisted somewhat unconvincingly. The Cheshire cat grin he was adorning didn't exactly help sell his act of innocence.
"Jim, oh god. Please tell me you're not behind this."
"Behind what?"
"This. The case Sherlock and I are on. Please tell me you didn't threaten and scare a poor girl just to get me here."
"Do you want me to lie?" Jim asked in confusion.
"Oh God" John groaned, scrubbing his hand over his face. "That poor girl thinks she's being blackmailed."
"She is being blackmailed." Jim shrugged indifferently. "It's just I'm the one doing it."
"Why? Just to get me to some sex club? You could have just asked."
"Would you have said yes?" Jim asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I don't know. Probably not. This isn't exactly my scene." John waved his arms, gesturing at their surroundings.
"Exactly. I thought you might want to spice up the relationship. I was worried you were getting bored of me." Jim said wrapped his arms around John's shoulders and pulling him close.
"Jim, the only way you could be boring was if you were catatonic." John reassured him, pressing a gentle kiss of his lips. "If anyone should be worried about being boring, it's me."
"Hmm." Jim said thoughtfully, running his fingers through John's hair. "Then I think you better do as I ask."
"What about Sherlock?"
"What about him?" Jim asked with a deep frown, his eyes narrowing.
"Look Jim, I know my friendship with Sherlock means absolutely nothing to you but it's important to me. And I'm fairly certain that if he ever found out that we're, whatever the hell we are, he'd hate me and that's pretty much the best case scenario."
"Fine." Jim grumbled, loosening his tie.
"What are you doing?" John asked, brow furrowing with bafflement.
"Here." he said when his tie finally came loose. He reached up and tied it over John's eyes, using it as a blindfold. "Now if he finds us, you can pretend you had no idea who it was."
Jim went back to kissing him before he could even think about protesting. With John being blind t the world, he had nothing but Jim. He followed the other man's lead, each touch exhilarating without the use of his sight. He never knew what Jim would do next, unable to anticipate if he was going to kiss, lick, bite or simply touch. He was completely at Jim's mercy and it made him excited.
Jim undid John's trousers and pushed them down to his lower thigh. Then he guided the army doctor so he was on his hands and knees, his shirt and jacket still on. Jim ran his fingers up and down the cleft on John's arse, feeling the familiar coldness of the lubricant, as Jim gave him a bit of warning that he was about to be penetrated.
Jim and John groaned simultaneously as Jim's finger slipped in with relative ease. "You're seriously going to fuck me with the suit still mostly on?"
"What? I stripped you as much as I need to." Jim said as he worked his finger in and out, slipping a second one in
"You and this bloody suit. You two want to be alone together?" John quipped, rocking back against Jim's fingers.
"Pointless. What makes the suit is you inside it, filling it." His free hand ran over John's back, fingers brushing against the expensive fabric.
"Flattery?" John asked smugly.
"Truth, Doctor. Why bother with flattery when I've already got my fingers inside you?" To illustrate his point, he crooked his finger and stroked it over John's prostate, eliciting a low, rumbling moan.
"Fair point." John conceded, dropping his head down onto the bed. Jim slipped in a third finger, stretching John further.
Jim fumbled one-handedly trying to open his trousers while the other than continued to work John open, fingers sliding in and out in a slow rhythm. When Jim had his trousers down to his knees, he grabbed one of the condom packets from the bed, ripping it open with his teeth.
"Bit late for that, don't you think?" John asked sarcastically, recognizing the sound. "Unless you're worried about getting me pregnant."
"Can't risk getting you all messy." Jim said as he slipped his fingers, forcing another groan from John's lips.
He slipped the sheath over his prick and grabbed some lube, applying it liberally. He lined himself up and pressed just the head in, breaching John slowly. John instantly moved away, Jim's cock pulling out. "What the fuck is on your cock?" he asked, turning his head even though he was still blindfolded.
"A condom." Jim said as if this were obvious.
"That's not what a condom feels like!" John shouted and Jim shushed him.
"It's ribbed Johnny, calm down."
"Oh Jesus." John shook his head.
Jim lined up again and pressed back in. John's breath was coming in harsh gasps. "Slowly." John said with his jaw clenched.
Jim went annoyingly slow, pushing past the ring of muscles and surrounding himself with overwhelming tightness and heat. He wanted nothing more than to shove the rest of the way in but he held back. He was almost halfway in when John cried out again. "Stop, stop. Too much. Too much."
Jim stilled his movement and couldn't help thinking that at this rate they'd never actually get to the fucking. "You're fine." He said in a way that he hoped was soothing but knew came out more as annoyance. He pushed in further and John yelped. He continued on and when he got to the sweet spot, John had to bite down on his fist to keep from screaming. Jim did a tiny little thrust, knowing the ribs on the condom were over-stimulating John's prostate.
"Jim, oh God. Fuck, fuck, fuck." John sounded close to sobbing.
"Do you want me to stop?" Jim asked, trying to be considerate. He could always pull out and put on a regular condom but he liked watching John fall to pieces.
John took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Fuck no, just…be careful with me yeah?"
"Of course Johnny." Jim promised, smoothing his hand over John's backside before gripping his hips. His first real thrust is slow, pulling out and pushing back in until he bottomed out. John arched his back, head snapping up as he howled. Jim did it again, earning practically the same reaction. He did a few quick, sharp thrusts and John's arms almost gave out.
"Holy fucking fuck." John said breathlessly.
"How good is it Johnny?" Jim asked, going back to long, even strokes.
"So good. Jim, fuck. Jim." John moaned loudly.
"You know, there's no point in that blindfold if you're just going to keep saying my name." Jim said pulling almost all the way out and then watching as he sunk back in, disappearing inside his lover.
"Well, it's really…fucking difficult…when you're…fucking me…with that…bloody thing on your…prick." John said, gasping for air and clutching at the sheets.
Jim started thrusting harder, picking up the pace, until John was an uncontrollable mess, moaning in between the string of curse words and breathless whispers of Jim's name. Jim hardly touched him, had just gotten his hand on John's cock when John came, his whole body shuddering as he spilled his release onto the bed.
Jim pulled out and rolled John onto his back, away from his spunk on the sheets. He thrust back in and John fisted both his hands into Jim's hair, clutching at him so hard he thought John might rip it from his head. "Almost there." He said speeding up, pounding into John ruthlessly. John was quite a sight, flushed and sweating with his mouth slack and lips parted. Jim licked at John's lips, tasting the saltiness of his sweat. John raised his head up and bit down on Jim's neck hard. It pushed Jim over the edge and he filled the condom, missing the ownership that came from emptying himself directly inside John.
"Oh God, oh god." John groaned, dropping his head back down and shaking it slowly from side to side.
"Alright?" Jim asked after his vision had cleared.
"You're a bloody lunatic." John said, his breath still shaky.
"That's not exactly news Johnny."
John giggled and pulled Jim down for a kiss. Jim took the opportunity to ease out, keeping a hold on the condom. He disposed of it in the rubbish bin they'd supplied next to the bed for such things.
He reached up and pulled his tie away from John's eyes. John blinked a few times and when his gaze focused on Jim, he smiled. "You're too much."
"Thank you."
John snorted and brushed his lips against Jim's. Jim instantly retaliated by crushing their lips together, devouring the army doctor in a hungry kiss. "I think you might have to leave me here. I don't know when I'll be able to sit or walk again."
"Then I'll stay here with you." Jim offered.
"Love you." John said, his eyes drooping with exhaustion.
"Love you." Jim said, lacing their fingers together.
There was a crash and John's eyes snapped open. "What was that?"
"Nothing, probably just someone who likes it a bit rough." Jim shrugged.
"That didn't sound like sex, that sounded like someone threw something. Oh God, Sherlock." John said pushing Jim off him and sitting up. He quickly tucked his shirt back in and zipped up his trousers. "I completely forgot he was here. Fuck, we're on a sodding case."
"He's fine. He can handle himself."
"What? What are you talking about? Wait, you know something, don't you?" John asked, eyeing Jim accusingly.
"No." Jim lied.
"Jim, what didn't you tell me? What did you do?"
"I may have sent someone to distract him." Jim shrugged nonchalantly.
"Someone?" John asked and then his eyes fluttered closed. "Oh god. I can't believe you – I could kill you for this Jim – how could you do this?"
"He'll be fine. It's all part of the plan." Jim insisted but John wasn't buying it.
"For fuck's sake Jim!" John growled angrily and shoved the curtain aside, leaving abruptly.
John ran towards the noise he'd heard, ignoring all the people busy shagging in a multitude of different ways. There was a door and John pressed his ear against it, hearing the sound of a struggle going on inside. "Sherlock!" he called out, pounding his fist on the door.
"Bit busy here, John." Sherlock called back and John heard the sound of metal scraping against metal.
John rammed his shoulder against the door, trying to break it down. The door rattled but didn't budge. He tried again but with no more luck than the first time. By the fifth time his shoulder was stinging with pain. The sixth time he finally got enough force behind it and the door burst open.
"John, look out!" Sherlock yelled and John barely had time to register what was going on before there was a black, blurry shape and a long, sharp knife sliced at his belly. The cut was shallow but John still dropped to his knees. He was going to need stitches, he knew that much. His expensive white shirt was getting soaked in blood as he collapsed on the floor.
"Oh God, John." Sherlock rushed over and knelt beside him.
"Where is he?" John asked, looking around for the man with the knife.
"He just escaped out the window, left right after he cut you." Sherlock explained.
"Are you alright?" John asked checking Sherlock over to see if the assassin had done any damage.
Sherlock laughed. "Only you could be lying there bleeding and still find time to see if I'm alright. Why don't we focus on you?"
"I'm fine, or at least I think I'm fine. Definitely need to go to the hospital." John winced at the pain but tried to hide it. Sherlock saw it anyway and took his hand.
"You're going to be fine." Sherlock gave his hand a small squeeze, trying to be reassuring but John could see the fear in his eyes.
"Of course I will." John replied, reassuring himself as much as Sherlock. "Hardly a flesh wound."
"Of course, of course you'll be fine." Sherlock nodded but didn't let go of John's hand. "You have to be fine, John. You have to be."
"I'll do my best." John said, giving Sherlock a faint smile. "I might blackout for a bit but I'll come back."
"You will, you always do." Sherlock agreed. "The ambulance is on its way, just hang on."
XXXX
Jim surveyed the touching scene from the shadows, watching Sherlock touch John. His John. Sherlock had the nerve to hold his hand, to reassure him when it should have been Jim. It should have been him next to John, telling him everything would be alright. He curled his hands into fists and made himself turn away. All his plans have unraveled and instead of driving them apart, he managed to make Sherlock and John closer.
Sherlock was supposed to be left on his own while he faced the assassin, then John was supposed to join him. It would take Sherlock seconds to figure out that John had just had sex. Then Jim would make sure Sherlock caught a glimpse of him before he disappeared and finally Sherlock would work out where John had been. But that was all fucked now. All of it was ruined and now Sherlock and John were holding hands. The mental image of it made Jim's blood boil.
He wanted to kill Sherlock Holmes but that would have to wait. He had more pressing matters to attend to. He pulled his black phone out and dialed Moran's number. Moran didn't even have a chance to utter a greeting before Jim spoke. "You find that fucking idiot assassin Chaika and you bring him to me. I'm going to deal with him. Then I want you to contact anyone who's ever done business with us and you tell them, you fucking tell them that if any of them harms a single hair on John Watson's head, I will see to them personally. John Watson is off limits unless they want a visit from me"
Jim ended the call with a jab of his thumb before Moran could say anything or protest. He stood there for a moment, seething with anger. He stepped off to the side and remained hidden, watching as the ambulance arrived and John disappeared inside it, Sherlock never leaving his side. Jim watched until the ambulance was gone from sight and then he stalked off into the night, ready to make someone bleed.