Have I mentioned how wonderful you all are? Thank you so much for all the kind words and lovely reviews! You all deserve a chocolate sunday served in a Benedict Cumberbatch bowl ; )

And here it is, the long awaited chapter in which Sherlock uses the phrase "spank the monkey" and we discover his unexpected talent...

Happy Reading!

ps. Also wanted to mention that "ah" is used two different ways in this story. John usually says it as ahhh, like an American would say "um" as a filler sound. When Sherlock uses it, it is usually as an interjection, like Ah! As if discovering something. Hopefully you all know what I mean!

Lestrade left half an hour later, after eliciting promises from both John and Sherlock that they would call him soon. Sherlock, eager to return to normality, had urged the DI to call him first if any interesting cases came up. With a laugh, Lestrade agreed, then left.

Once he'd gone, Sherlock and John resumed their seats by the fire.

"Are you ever going to tell me about what all went on in the years you were gone?"

Sherlock looked over at John raised his brows in surprise. "Do you really want to know, John?"

"I take it with that answer, there was a lot of bloodshed."

"Some," Sherlock agreed casually. "As much as was necessary. I did try to find alternative routes when possible, but in many cases it simply wasn't an option."

"Where did you live? Who did you talk to?"

"I lived wherever my shoes landed. I went round the world three times when all was said and done. I don't believe I ever stayed in the same place twice. As for talking, there really wasn't much time for that. I wanted to come home, John. I wasn't willing to dally around trying to play nice with anyone. I had a job to do, and then I could come back to you. I had no interest in anything else."

"I could tell you had no interest in eating while you were away. You're still practically skin and bones, even after two weeks on IV nutrition as well as hearty meals."

"You know I forget to eat sometimes when I'm working. Food dulls the mind. I needed to stay sharp."

"I'll say. Your bones look sharp enough against your skin to cut glass."

"Unhappy with my physical appearance?"

John chuckled and shook his head. "You know bloody well that you're still attractive, even if I do think you need a bit more meat on your bones."

"A compliment? I'm flattered, Dr Watson."

"Flattered my arse," John muttered. Sherlock flashed him a grin.

"Ah, speaking of your arse," Sherlock started, pressing his fingertips together and resting them against his lips. John looked over at him, a little surprised at the segway. "I wanted to discuss something before Lestrade showed up. I fear the subject matter might be one you are ill at ease talking about, but I'm hoping that for my sake- our sake- you'll push through."

"Alright," John said cautiously.

"I'm sure you can imagine the multitude of sexual variety available in an interlude with two males."

"Oh, uh, yeah sure. I guess there's lots of combinations. Tab A slot B, all that." He reddened, and Sherlock couldn't help but smirk. Of them, John was certainly the more experienced, but Sherlock had the advantage of lacking inhibitions about sexual identity.

"Yes, something like that. What I'm curious about is which of them, or which combination of them, you would be comfortable with." Sherlock still had his palms together lightly, looking for all the world as if he'd just asked the time instead of what kind of gay sex his flatmate preferred.

"Sherlock...I, uh, I don't know. I've never, well, you know. Not with a man. I haven't the foggiest what to do in...that situation."

"Alright then, lets start with simple process of elimination. I find it to be the most effective route in almost every case. Easing our way into more and more involved acts. Kissing I am already aware you are comfortable with. What about auditory stimulation?"

"You t-talking to me more?"

"Or vice-versa," Sherlock drawled.

"Well I'm fairly certain that I'd be absolute rubbish at it, but I certainly wouldn't mind if you did that thing with your voice again..."

"Rubbish at it? Whyever would you think that? I assume you've used that form of foreplay with your female partners."

"Yes, but it's not the same-"

"Why not?"

For a moment, John could only stare, baffled. "Why not? What do you mean why not? Because you're a man, and I'm a man, and...well...its just not the same!"

Sherlock blinked at him, then shrugged his shoulders in dismissal. "Maybe reciprocation on that front can be left to explore at a later time when you're more comfortable with your sexuality."

"I'm perfectly comfortable-"

"Next, what about manual stimulation?"

"Manual...what?" John couldn't believe the direction this conversation had taken.

"Manual stimulation, John. I suppose you'd call it a hand shandy?"

"Jesus bloody Christ, Sherlock!" If there'd been tea in John's mouth it would have been spewed all over Sherlock's intense face. Shaking his head in disappointment, Sherlock stood.

"I take these reactions to mean that you're not ready for this conversation. Maybe we should wait to continue it until you're more open to the subject. Kindly let me know when and if that time comes."

"Sherlock, wait!"

"John, its fine. I had barely dared to hope I could have a sexual relationship with anyone, ever. I'd put the possibility of that person being you out completely. I can go back to that. Knowing how you feel about me is enough." His voice softened. "Really."

"No, wait! Its not that I don't want- I just need to...I don't know, wrap my head around it. Thinking about those things, with you, that's not what puts me off. I want you. In every sense of the word. But I've never had to spell it all out like this before. I need to ask for a little patience here."

"Patience," Sherlock echoed.

"Yes." John took hold of Sherlock's hand and tugged him gently back to his chair. "Can you give me that?"

"Of course." His hands came up, fingertips together, to his mouth once more. He stared at the flames in the fire for a long while. "Do you mean that we need to wait and have this conversation at a later date, or that you merely need me to allow you to adjust to the subject matter as I ask the questions? Because I'm unwilling to go any further than we already have physically without discussing this first."

"We can have it now, but just...don't be surprised if I'm not great at giving answers. Its not you. I couldn't have this conversation at all with anyone else but you. It just takes some getting used to."

"Shall I continue then?"

"Yes. Just please never say 'hand shandy' ever again." When John looked over, Sherlock was biting his lip to hold back his mirth. John couldn't help the laugh that rose up within him. He let it out, relishing the break in the tension.

"If that one's out, there are a plethora of other vividly colourful phrases for that particular action. Hand to gland combat, five knuckle shuffle, tug job, spank the monkey-" Sherlock was cut off as John's laughter grew so intense that he couldn't breathe.

"Ah, no!" He gasped, trying to fan air toward his face while wiping away tears of laughter. "No! I never want to hear anything with the word monkey in it referring to bedroom activities in any way!"

"Too bad," Sherlock smirked. "I rather liked the term. Rather...ambitious I'd say." They cracked up together, each with the same ridiculous picture in their heads. "Monkeys aside," Sherlock chuckled then cleared his throat, trying to adopt a more serious disposition once more, "I still need an answer to how you feel about that."

John caught his breath and forced himself to seriously consider what Sherlock was asking. He found that the idea wasn't an unpleasant one in the slightest. It called to mind flashes of feeling and warm possibility. "I think that one's a go. I have no objections to it."

"Good then. Now onto oral stimulation. Your thoughts?"

"Well..." John swallowed hard and couldn't help the way his gaze was drawn to Sherlock's trousers. The problem wasn't in the act itself so much as the damned talking about it.

"Tell me," Sherlock interrupted the thought. "Tell me what you're thinking right in this moment. I can see your wheels turning but I can't read you."

"I- I know for sure that I'm not opposed to receiving it." The thought of those intriguing lips wrapped around his cock had him shifting in his seat. "Contrary to what this is making it sound like, I'm not a selfish lover. I'm not necessarily against giving...but you've got to understand that I've never done that before. Ever. I can always try what I know I like, but I can't promise-"

"I doubt your skill will be an issue, John."

"Its an issue to me," John said insistently. "I have always taken great pride in being able to satisfy my lovers. Going into this blind, with you, I feel as if I'm going to be joining a race after the rest of the crowd has already gone half way. I don't want to fumble around, not give you what you deserve."

"From the little I've experienced of our physical interactions already, I honestly do not think that will be a problem. You entice me. Being with you at all will be plenty. Any additional gratification gained will simply be the pièce de résistance."

"Sherlock, its important to me that I be able to...well...pleasure you." His cheeks turned red once more and Sherlock felt his heart clench.

"You will. You already have. But in the interest of posterity, we will take all the time necessary to learn each other."

"I- well ok then. That sounds about right."

"Now we are down to penetrative sex. I feel I must interject here that in terms of receiving, it will be some time before-"

"God Sherlock, I wouldn't ask you to- to- go that far. I can only imagine what that would bring up for you."

"Bring up?" Sherlock's brows knit. "Oh you mean psychologically? That is something I will deal with when and if it occurs. My issue, not yours. What I meant was-"

"Your issue? What the bloody hell do you mean by that?"

"John it isn't a real physical obstacle that needs overcome. The problem, should one arise, would be totally in my head. Therefore it is only logical that I be the one to handle it. Not your problem."

"Jesus. Tell me, how is it possible that someone with your massive intellect can be such an idiot? Of course its my bloody problem! I've got no intention of fucking you with you off in your sodding mind palace dealing with issues from being raped!" John brought his fist down hard on the coffee table, and the tea cups jumped. Sherlock just stared at him, baffled by the violent reaction from the usually moderate doctor.

"John-"

"No. No, you listen to me. I'd be a monster if I did that to you. I fucking love you, Sherlock Holmes. Do you hear me? I love you. That means that we're in this together. Better or worse. Your issues are my issues. And if you think for one second that I'd be able to have at you while you sorted through your trauma, you don't know me. You don't know me at all."

"John...I apologize. I didn't mean to upset you so violently." He studied the doctor carefully, seeing the lines of anger on his face. Anger not directed at Sherlock, but on his behalf. "I can understand that it would diminish your pleasure to think about me dealing with other issues while we were together intimately."

"No, Sherlock. You still don't get it. You just don't get it. If it was me, if I'd been the one in that cave, and I was afraid of sex because of it, even if I told you just to go ahead and have at me, do you think you could?"

"I'd never hurt you," Sherlock said adamantly.

"I didn't say physical pain of any kind. Fear, even knowing it was unfounded. Emotional turmoil. Those are what I'm talking about. If you doing that to me brought back flashes of what had happened. Could you go ahead, even if I told you to?"

"I would never hurt you," Sherlock repeated through clenched teeth. "That means emotional pain as well as physical."

"Then why do you expect me to be able to cause you emotional pain?"

"I'm not like that."

"That's a lie and we both know it. You do feel, Sherlock. You're logical and rational and you're above so many of the 'mundane' things, but I know you feel. I know you experience mental pain over what was done to you, and I know you feel a wide range of emotion when it comes to me. There will be fear and memories and a whole shitload of things to work through if we ever get to that point. But we are going to work through it together. And we aren't going to do that until I'm damn sure you're totally ready for it. When we're together, its just you and me, Sherlock. No ghosts, no fears."

"Ok," Sherlock said quietly, surprising them both.

"Just ok?" John had expected more protest, more fight.

"Just ok," Sherlock confirmed. "You're right. Its not fair to either of us if its not just you and me when we come together. And I can see, putting myself in your shoes so to speak, how the idea of there being any kind of pain involved, even just emotional, would make the whole experience distasteful." His eyes hardened and the coldest look John had ever seen crossed his face. "I'll kill anyone who hurts you," he whispered.

If the words had been yelled in anger, hissed in rage, they couldn't have been nearly as terrifying. There was no heat in that statement. It was all ice. A cold, deadly promise. John could see that Sherlock was imagining what had happened to him happening to John. And he could see that Sherlock meant what he said with every fiber of his being. John didn't doubt for a moment that Sherlock was capable of ruthlessly striking down anyone who harmed the one man he cared for. It was at once both comforting and terrifying. But John could understand. He remembered first discovering the extent of Sherlock's injuries. And recalled with perfect clarity how much he'd wanted to go back and be the one who broke the bastard's neck.

"I believe you. And speaking from experience, I understand."

"I took that possibility away from you." Sherlock cocked his head to the side slightly. "I apologize for that."

"Apology accepted." John cracked a smile, realizing they were very calmly discussing murder for vengeance. Sherlock had just apologized for killing a man and depriving John the honour of doing it himself. It would have been comically absurd if it wasn't so heartbreaking. Their eyes met and held for the hundredth time since they'd been reunited. After a while, Sherlock cleared his throat and went on.

"Anyway, that wasn't what I was getting at to begin with. We do have a tenancy to veer off, don't we?" He shook his head and forced a smile. "The point I was trying to make was that, from a purely physical aspect, it will probably be another-" he broke off as he did the calculations in his head. "Yes, another seven point three days before I'm able to be on the receiving end without pain."

"Seven point three, eh?"

"Approximately."

"Well I think we'll cross that road when we get there, then."

"And in the mean time, your thoughts on being the reciprocal party?"

"I...I'm not sure. I've never really been in a position to have to think about it. Its not that I'm against it, per se. But I have absolutely no experience in that area. None. So I honestly can't tell you if its something I'll like."

"I figured we could address like and dislike in a more hands on setting. What I'm asking is willingness to try. Comfort with the idea. Desire."

John couldn't help his chuckle. "Well I can't say I've ever specifically desired that. But I've never desired another man but you. And with you...with you I want everything. I want you. There isn't anything I don't want to explore with you." He ran his hand over his face and shook his head. "I guess what I'm saying is that with the right, ah... tools... I'm willing to try."

"The right tools being a condom and lubrication?"

"Yes," John chuckled again at Sherlock's forwardness. "That is what I meant. And on that subject, I think I ought to tell you that I'm in the clear health-wise. No STDs or anything."

"I never had a doubt doctor," Sherlock smirked. "And you've been privy to my test results, so you're aware that I also am 'in the clear,' as you put it." He frowned for a moment, thinking. "John, would you prefer to not use protection?" He cocked his head to the side curiously.

"We-well I mean, as a doctor its my job to promote safe sex every time."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but as we are both healthy and pose no risk to the other, condoms become a trifle...frivolous with two men. Certainly they can be a personal preference for hygiene, but its not as if either one of us runs the risk of unplanned pregnancy."

"Yes, Sherlock, I'm aware of that much." John rolled his eyes. "I wasn't trying to say that we shouldn't. As I said earlier, I don't have any experience in that department, so I have no idea what my personal preferences will be. But yes, despite the professional in me always being adamant about protection, in a committed, safe relationship condoms aren't strictly necessary. I think its safe to say that neither of us has any intentions of sleeping around, yeah?"

"I certainly have no desire to have any kind of sexual contact with any others."

"Well good. I'm a monogamous kind of bloke, so I don't think there will be any problems in that area then."

"How can you be sure you won't meet a woman you'd rather be spending your nights with?"

John did a double take at Sherlock, stunned at the question.

"Excuse me?"

"By your own admission, you're not gay. How can you be sure that you won't be unsatisfied in sex with me, and want to go back to women?"

"Are you saying you'd be ok with me having a dish on the side?!" The incredulity in John's voice made Sherlock smile in relief.

"Well I certainly wouldn't be in favor of it," he admitted. "But John..." His tone became serious once more. "By your own admission, you have no experience in this situation. You can't commit to a relationship you don't know will be physically compatible for you."

"Yes, Sherlock, I can." He reminded himself that all matters of the heart were relatively new to Sherlock. Because of that inexperience, he tried to keep the bite out of his voice. "I. Love. You. I've already said that. That means that I don't want anyone else."

"You had no problem going on dates with women whilst in love with me before," Sherlock said with one cocked brow. John sighed and reminded himself that he'd just gotten his flatmate back from the dead and he'd regret it if he strangled the man.

"And you saw how long those relationships lasted. Yes, I had the ability to sleep with other women after I knew I was in love with you. But I didn't think anything would ever come of you and I. And we had never talked about it. We never admitted our feelings and committed to each other." He paused for a moment, realizing that they hadn't yet defined their relationship. "That is what this is, isn't it? A real relationship, just you and me?"

"You know I have no desire to be with any others."

"Yeah, but what if sometime down the line you did find someone else you were attracted to?"

"While I find that highly improbable, if not impossible, I suppose the answer to your question would be that if we have made commitments to each other, I would of course honour those promises. I wouldn't betray your trust."

"Good. That's the same way I know that I won't find some woman down the line and pop into bed with her. I'm choosing to be with you. And before you say anything, I truly don't think compatibility will be a problem. We've already proven that the attraction is there. So you have to trust that I will be satisfied with you and only you."

Sherlock nodded once, accepting the promise. "I'm quite the talented lover, you know," he said casually.

"Is that so?" John chuckled.

"I'm not being humorous, John, I mean it. I've given the study of the art the same focus and dedication that I've given any of my other pursuits. Its been nearly ten years since I've used them, but I've no doubt that I'll be able to call them back up without problem."

"You seem awfully confident."

"You're a quick study, John Watson," Sherlock said slowly, inching their faces closer together.

"Am I?"

"Oh yes. I know you. Inside and out. I may be blind to your emotions and thoughts so much of the time, but I can read your reactions like a book. I can already tell what excites you," his voice dropped low, "what arouses you."

"You're doing that trick with your voice again," John said as he fought to catch the breath he'd suddenly lost.

"Trick? I hardly think so, doctor. Merely using the tools at my disposal." His voice continued to rumble across John's skin and raise chills in its wake. "And reiterating the fact that I will be able to pleasure you. Make you writhe, burn, scream."

John gave up trying to fight it. He let his senses be swept along in the delicious temptation of Sherlock's voice. "Prove it," he challenged.

"Happy too," Sherlock purred.

The smut is so close we can almost taste it! I hope you all enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it (its my favorite so far!) and if you did, I'd be absolutely delighted if you'd take a moment and let me know!