This chapter is to justify the M rating. After making you wait 10 chapters I hope it doesn't disappoint. ;P xxx

'Well'

Sherlock hovered over Lestrade. John sat down on desk chair sipping on the terrible yard coffee.

'You seem pretty certain it's him.'

'Of course I am. Woman tries to send a dangerous criminal to jail, ends up getting murdered. It's a logical conclusion.'

'What makes you so sure' John asked. Sherlock just raised an eyebrow in annoyance.

'Sorry, I forgot, you're Sherlock Holmes.' John shrugged. Lestrade hid a smirk.

'And Lopez?'

'Blackmail'

'What!' Lestrade and John said in unison.

'Sherlock there is no proof she was blackmailing anyone'

'What proof do you need?' Sherlock threw his hands in the air. 'Look, she came here illegally, she was killed so it's obvious she knew something, but didn't go to the police, she was scared that they would deport her. You saw her flat, saw how desperate her situation was. Must have thought she could get some money out of him. Thought she could sell her silence. He has murdered once, he is quite capable of murdering again.'

'So what now' John asked.

'We wait till Friday. I've set up a swap with a friend of mine. Be at this address at this time' He handed Lestrade a piece of paper.

'Wait a minute, you bought some girls?' John asked him, so that's what the brown envelope was for.

Sherlock nodded. 'It's the least we can do. If we can't charge him for murder at least we can get him for trafficking. Then Georgina Coyle will not have died for nothing' There was a note of sadness in his voice which neither Lestrade or John were expecting.

'Since when do you care about the victim?'

'I don't normally, but this time, she died trying to prove something, I feel an affinity with her I guess'

Sherlock bounded up the stairs of 221B. John followed quietly behind. They both entered the flat and took of their coats and scarves, discarding them on the chairs. Sherlock turned on the fire, it was freezing in the flat.

'Another case solved then'

'I guess.' Sherlock next to him and nuzzled his neck. Kissing his neck and running his tongue along the marks he had made earlier that day.

They kissed deeply. John stroked Sherlock's cheek and then wrapped his hand round his neck and played with his curls. Sherlock used his body weight to push John onto the sofa. They started to kiss again limbs entwining , tongues dancing. Then Sherlock felt a hard lump press into his leg.

Sherlock suddenly felt very sick. He knew John wanted sex, but he was a virgin. He didn't know how. He knew everything yet he didn't know how to make a man come. Of course he knew what sex was, what it involved, but he didn't know how it felt. The actions looked brutal, almost violent. What if it hurt? Would he like it? Would John?

John felt Sherlock freeze as his erection rubbed into his leg. He stopped kissing and stroked Sherlock's hair.

'It's ok. We don't have to do anything. I won hurt you, I promise'

John kissed Sherlock reassuringly. Sherlock closed his eyes and kissed John.

'Can we take it slow?' John nodded. Sherlock slipped his hands under John's jumper and tugged at the material. It got caught on his head and John had to take it of himself, they both giggled out of nervousness. He went back to kissing John, exploring his mouth while unbuttoning his shirt buttons. That was discarded alongside the jumper. Sherlock tried to slip his hands under John's T shirt but John caught his hands and shook his head. Sherlock understood and instead put his hands on John's waist.

Sherlock awkwardly and with shaking fingers undid John's belt and jean's. John slipped them over his hips and pulled them down his legs then over his feet. Sherlock ran a hand up the inside of his thigh and it made him shudder. He kissed Sherlock again, then, almost sick with nerves, slid his boxers of. He felt Sherlock examine him, he blushed as those grey eyes drank him in. However, as he glanced at Sherlock, he saw the signs of his own erection forming. John smiled and felt more confident with what he was doing.

John reached out and linked his fingers into Sherlock's hand. He then lifted his hand and placed Sherlock's hand on his now aching cock. Sherlock felt a bolt of electricity pass through him. John moaned and Sherlock felt himself become drunk with lust.

'Like this' He whispered and with his own hand showed Sherlock how he wanted to be touched. Sherlock closed his eyes, crushed his lips to John's and then began to stroke. First, with awkward clumsy movements then when he heard John groan with appreciated he speeded up and settled into a rhythm. The noises John was making were so erotic they caused Sherlock to become even more aroused, if that was possible. John was beautiful. John was his.

'Fuck, Sherlock, I'm going to come' He groaned, Sherlock began to pump faster. John came hard. Sherlock felt a hot sticky mess cover his hand.

'Was that ok?' He reached for a box of tissues that sat of the coffee table and began to mop up the mess John had made. When he was finished John pulled his boxers back up.

'That was brilliant Sherlock.' He kissed Sherlock, trying to show his appreciation. 'Surprised you didn't use your massive intellect to deduce how much I liked that by all the noise I was making' They both laughed, the mood lightened. Sherlock nuzzled into John's neck. John kissed the top of his head.

'Can I see you? Properly I mean?' John asked. He bit his lip, wondering if he had taken things too far.

Instead Sherlock nodded. He got up of the sofa and stood in front of John. He took of his suit jacket. Then his shirt, then shoes, then undid his belt and his trousers, then his boxers. Normally he would hate to see his clothes in a crumpled mess, but this time, all he could think of was John.

'Your beautiful' John was awestruck at Sherlock's pale skin, he had hardly any fat and was lean and toned. John guessed it was all the running around London. Sherlock had never felt so exposed and venerable.

John got up and nibbled on Sherlock's shoulder. Then he took his hand and led him to the rug by the fireplace.

'Lie down' he instructed.

Sherlock did as he was told, lying down by the heat staring into the fire. John lay on top of him and kissed down his chest, then flicked a tongue inside his belly button. John rubbed his hands on the inside of his thigh and kissed Sherlock's legs. Sherlock closed his eyes and groaned as John licked his cock. He felt his hips buck as John swirled his tongue around the tip and moaned as John took him in his mouth. Sherlock couldn't help but moan as John began to work on him. Licking and sucking. He wouldn't last long. He felt his stomach muscles contract as John fondled one of his balls. Soon he was coming hard in John's mouth.

John swallowed every drop of him. Sherlock lay there trying to process these new feelings he was experiencing.

'I think I'm in love with you John'

'I think I'm in love with you to Sherlock'

John grabbed a blanket that lay on a chair. He wrapped them both up in it and felt Sherlock nuzzle into him. They melted into each other and fell asleep by the fireplace.