Chapter Ten: BlackBerry

'This war has to stop.'

'I'll stop when you stop.'

'You are being childish.'

'Me? Me? You started this, Mycroft!'

'No, I simply got lost in the heat of the moment and you took it as a personal insult.'

'YOU HAD SEX IN JOHN'S CHAIR!'

'Sherlock, what is it with you and John's chair? I apologised, I had a new one delivered, what more do you want?'

'I want you to go back in time and stop yourself from doing it.'

'That is a paradox, Sherlock.'

'I don't care.'

'Shall I just go and hop in my TARDIS then?'

'Gregory has warped you.'

'Mm, yes.'

'Mycroft, I will stop when you stop.'

'I have stopped.'

'You had sex against my wall.'

'No, I had oral sex against your wall.'

'Dear God, just kill me now.'

'Sherlock–'

'No, I'm done, kill me.'

'Sherlock, you are being childish.'

'Yes, well, why don't you go back in time and change my entire personality?'

'How would my going back in time change you?'

'I'm upset, Mycroft.'

'And?'

'My brain is failing to function.'

'That must be a first.'

'You annoy me.'

'Yes, I am aware of that.'

Sherlock scowled from the couch, plucking at his violin strings.

Mycroft smiled back, twirling his umbrella.

John just shook his head, sipping from his mug.

Greg sighed and checked his phone.

'Child,' Mycroft said.

'Arsehole.'

'Bastard.'

'Prick.'

'Now, now, Sherlock.'

'You started it!'

'Only because I knew you would call me an arsehole!'

John sighed and went into the kitchen, Greg following.

'They're never going to stop.'

'No, probably not.'

'This is your fault, I hope you know that.'

'Me? What did I do?'

'You had sex with Mycroft in my chair.'

'God, I'm sorry, but he said horny.'

'So? You're a grown man, control yourself!'

'Did you control yourself when you had sex in my car? And Mycroft's?'

'That was retaliation.'

'That doesn't mean you're more mature then me.'

'I hate you.'

'Well good; I hate you too.'

The two men glared at each other.

'Want me to go?'

'Why? Gonna have sex in my bathroom now?'

'I might; Mycroft likes bathrooms.'

'Way too much information.'

'Did you know we had to buy a whole new bed after yours and Sherlock's little escapade?'

'You started that and don't deny it!'

'Yeah, well...'

'Sherlock's only just started sleeping in there again.'

'Poor boy.'

'I'll hit you, Greg.'

'I dare you.'

'I'll remember that next time you want a drinking buddy.'

'What? You're the one who wants to hit me!'

'MYCROFT!' Sherlock shouted.

'What did I do?' his brother asked.

'I HATE YOU!'

'Lovely.'

Greg sighed. 'I'll be going.'

'Good,' John muttered.

Greg sighed again and looked the doctor over. 'John, I don't want this to affect our friendship. You're like my best mate.'

John looked at him. 'Yeah, yeah, just... don't have sex in our bathroom, please? And not on the couch, Sherlock loves that couch.'

Greg smiled. 'Okay, but only if you don't have sex anywhere near or on Mycroft's bookcases. I do not want him throwing all those books away, it's a waste of money.'

'Deal,' John said and held out his hand.

They ran into the living room when they heard something fall. Sherlock had Mycroft against the wall, violin bow pressed to his neck. Mycroft just smiled pleasantly and used his umbrella to trip his brother, Sherlock falling onto the floor.

'Gregory, lovely, we must be going,' Mycroft said, smoothing down his jacket and walking to the door. 'John, always a pleasure.' He looked over his shoulder to see Sherlock sitting up, rubbing his head. 'Brother.'

'Go away!' Sherlock shouted, wincing slightly.

'Poor boy,' Mycroft smiled and stepped from the flat. Greg smiled at John before following.

'Did you hit your head?' John asked.

'I'm fine,' Sherlock said.

'Sherlock...'

The genius frowned and fell to flop onto the couch. John walked over and checked his head. 'I hate him.'

'I know, love.'

'He annoys me.'

'I know.'

'I stole his BlackBerry.' Sherlock held the phone aloft and John chuckled.

'And what are you going to do with his BlackBerry?'

Sherlock turned to grin at him. 'The real question, dear John, is what are we going to do with it?'

John smiled.

[Text from: Molly Hooper

To: Sally Donovan

I heard about the pool, I'm a Johnlock supporter.]

{oOo}

'So... like this?' John shifted on the couch, leaning on his forearms. He was lying on his stomach, legs bent and heels resting against Sherlock's arse. Sherlock had slipped into him already and his hips were still, arms on either side of John to hold up his weight.

'Yes, I think this'll work,' Sherlock said. 'The BlackBerry should be able to film this.'

'You realise Mycroft is going to be scared for life, right?'

'He won't watch it.'

'So why–'

'To prove a point, annoy my brother, and... I just think we'll look good on TV.' He smirked and bent down to kiss John's back slowly, the doctor shivering beneath him.

'You little exhibitionist.'

'Mm.'

Sherlock began moving now, sliding out a little before going back in. John groaned softly and let his head drop, closing his eyes as he rutted against the couch, cock being rubbed in all the right places.

'God, there,' John groaned. 'There, there, there.'

Sherlock smirked and snapped his hips, burying his cock deeper into John and hitting his prostate.

'Sherlock,' he mumbled, cussing as Sherlock did it again.

'Enjoying yourself?' Sherlock breathed before pressing a kiss to his ear.

'Uh huh.'

'Do you want me to...' he rolled his hips, cock moving inside John and making the doctor grunt, '... do that again?'

'Yes, God, yes!'

Sherlock grinned and started pulling out slowly.

'Sherlock!' John whined.

'Mm?'

'Stop!'

'Stop fucking you?'

'That... that's not what I meant!' John shouted, voice only getting louder when Sherlock pushed pack in. He started fucking John with abandon, licking at his boyfriend's neck before sinking his teeth in. 'Fuck, Sher...Sher...'

John could barely get any words out, instead pressing his face into his arms and pushing himself into the couch, getting that much needed friction to his shaft. He pushed his arse up as he did, begging Sherlock with his body.

Sherlock moved down John's neck, biting at the skin he found and sucking back before moving on. He licked circles down John's shoulder blades and across the scared tissue, loving that John was marked as a hero.

'God, John, what you do to me,' he breathed, pressing kisses to John's ear and cheek. John managed to twist his body up, head coming around so he could kiss Sherlock properly. Their mouths were wet, lips sloppy and tongues licking at each other. They panted into each other's mouths, John groaning when Sherlock hit his prostate again.

'G-God,' John moaned and dropped again to rub himself against the couch.

'Should have... put a... towel down...' Sherlock grunted as he fucked his partner, burying himself in deeply again and again.

'N-next... t-t...' John trailed off and arched up suddenly, nearly throwing Sherlock from him as he came. He shouted and cursed, cock leaking over the couch.

He tightened around Sherlock, who moaned and wrapped his arms around John's waist. He thrust harder, fucking John as deeply as he could until–

Sherlock came with a loud moan, emptying into John and shuddering as he tried to ride the orgasm out as long as he could. John collapsed back onto the couch and Sherlock went with him, lying heavily across John's back and panting.

'Sher-lock?' John managed to mumble after a few minutes, turning to try and find his boyfriend.

'Mm?' Sherlock grunted.

'God.'

'Mm.'

'Gonna... stay there all day?'

'Mm.'

John chuckled and lifted a hand to rub at Sherlock's thigh. 'Take your time... love...'

There was a pause before, 'Mm.'

John smiled.

{oOo}

[Text from: Sally Donovan

To: Molly Hooper

Ah, another Johnlock supporter. There are too many of you guys]

There was a package sitting on Mycroft's desk when he walked in. Frowning, he stepped back out. 'Hazel?'

His assistant looked up from her desk. 'Sir?'

'When did this package arrive?'

'About an hour ago,' Anthea replied. 'It's been checked for explosives and bio-weapons.'

'And?'

'Nothing, sir.'

'X-ray?'

'It appears to be a phone.'

Mycroft frowned and puzzled over that as he sat down. It wasn't until he'd opened the package that he realised it was his own BlackBerry, returned with a note from Sherlock Holmes.

You should really look at the video files, brother, the camera is exceptional – S

Mycroft breathed in deeply, calmed himself, and called for his assistant.

'Yes, sir?'

'Please purchase me a new BlackBerry.'

Anthea raised an eyebrow. 'Sir?'

'I need a new BlackBerry,' Mycroft said and pushed the package across the desk. 'Please have this destroyed.'

Anthea peered into the box and saw her boss' phone. Frowning, Anthea asked, 'Sir?'

'Just... have it destroyed immediately, please.'

Mycroft looked like he was about to be sick and Anthea took the package quickly. She sat at her own desk, putting the box aside to be destroyed when she had time. She paused before flicking through her own BlackBerry.

You've made him sick – A

The reply came while she was setting fire to the package. She picked up her BlackBerry and chuckled.

Serves him right. The footage was good, though – SH

Anthea smiled.