This is just a filler chapter, will update properly later.

Spending the night on the floor meant that when Sherlock woke his limbs were stiff and uncomfortable. Sherlock got up of the floor, slipped his boxers on and went to boil the kettle. Stretching his arms he tried to get rid of the crook in his neck. He ached slightly, but it was a good ache. Now he had woken up properly all the memories of the night before came flooding back. Mycroft was right, as much as he hated to admit it. Now he had achieved some form of sexual gratification, he felt part of the human race. He stared at John, the London mourning was pouring into the flat. He wanted to kiss John again, he wanted to touch John again, and he wanted John to touch him. Like with everything he did, he wanted to master it, to become really really good. Remembering last night made had made him hard. His body craved John.

John stirred and Sherlock bent down and poked him in the belly. He opened his eyelids slowly and smiled at Sherlock. He stretched and Sherlock pounced, kissing him, running his hands through his hair. John, who was not used to being woken up by a horny Sherlock. He felt Sherlock's hands and mouth all over him, kissing and stroking. He was about to ask him to slow down as he had only just woken up, but then he felt Sherlock's hand slip underneath his boxers and he didn't feel like complaining anymore. He felt his boxers being pulled down and Sherlock's take him in his mouth. Like the night before, it started of clumsily, but Sherlock soon got the hang of it and soon John was moaning in pleasure. He couldn't believe that that mouth, which was normally used to insult and all manner of amazing things, was now being used to being him to orgasm. He came and Sherlock drank all of him.

'Morning John' Sherlock leapt to his feet and ran to the kettle. He set about making some tea. John felt flushed and rearranged his clothes. He stood up, stretched and then collapsed on the sofa. He wondered if he should have invited Sherlock to his room last night instead of sleeping on the rug in front of the fireplace, but he liked the idea of having his own private space.

Sherlock came in with two steaming mugs of tea, he sat next to John and they entwined together so it was impossible to tell whose limbs belonged to whom.

The day passed by lazily. Sherlock read a book while John flicked through the job section of the paper. He played with Sherlock's curls and then noticed a job that had been circled. It was for a local surgery that needed a new doctor.

'This one you have circled looks interesting, maybe I should send them my CV?'

'No need, I have already done it. You have an interview next week. Remember to iron your shirt' John rolled his eyes. He should feel that this was horribly presumptive of Sherlock, but, this was Sherlock, he was showing he cared in his own weirdly twisted way.

Because Sherlock told him the case was solved, they just had to wait till Friday, he promised John he would eat something. So they ordered a takeaway. When they ate the food John tried to watch a film that was being shown. However five minutes in Sherlock proclaimed it 'boring' and then tried to steal the remote. John was having none of it, soon they were wrestling on the sofa. Sherlock decided the best thing to do was to tickle John and hope that the pain was cause him to give up the remote. He pinned John between his legs and started to tickle him. John laughed and gasped for breath.

Sherlock leaned forward and kissed John. John ran a hand over the inside of Sherlock's thigh.

'What do we do now Sherlock?'

He smiled a crooked smile. He reached out to John's hand, he pulled it to his mouth and kissed his finger tips.

'We stay here John, we stay inside till somebody finds us'

John had a long bath in the evening, sex still played on his mind. He decided that tomorrow he would go to the chemists and buy some condoms and lube. He wanted to be prepared but he knew not to push anything till Sherlock was ready. He seemed so keen this morning but there was a major difference between kissing and touching and full on sex. He would wait, Sherlock was worth the wait.

After his bath he kissed Sherlock goodnight and then went to bed. He tossed and turned but couldn't get to sleep, he checked the clock and it said it was three am. John groaned. He got up out of bed and crept up the stairs to Sherlock's room. He expected his flatmate to be up, as he usually was. Instead he found him sleeping. John crawled into his bed and cuddled up beside him, finally able to sleep.

The next few days passed by much the same. John went down Sherlock a few times but made sure not to pressure him into anything more. There was now a condom in his wallet and a bottle of lube in his bedroom drawer for when he was ready.

On Friday he kept glancing at the clock. John had never seen Sherlock so on edge.

'Can you stop pacing round the flat, you are making me nervous'

'Good, you should be nervous'

Sherlock wanted to get involved but Lestrade said, for once, he would be fine without him. They had Sam who would be wearing a wire. It was simple, Sam would go into the flat, the exchange would happen, Sam would leave then the police would swarm in and arrest Adams. It was so simple that Sherlock assumed something must go wrong. It was Scotland yard after all. Sherlock was surprised they could do anything without him.

Lestrade called Sherlock that evening to tell him Adams had been arrested. Sherlock immediately wanted to go to the yard but Lestrade told him he could question Adams the next day.

This did nothing to calm Sherlock down.

'Something is wrong John, I'm not sure what it is, something isn't right I can feel it'