Hello all! Here is a brief bonus chapter, as promised. A little fluffy something I wrote while doing the main story, but was axed for various reasons, glad I have somewhere to put it now as I really liked the idea of this scene :)
Bonus Chapter One – Tracks
John had begun to grow very attached to the way Sherlock kissed and licked his way down the scars of his body whenever they had an intimate night. The attention made him feel quite special; it was a constant reminder of how Sherlock would love him regardless of any trauma or disfigurement but also of what he had gone through for the love of the detective. Although they had not really talked about in any great length what Mycroft had told John that day in the café a couple of months ago, John had not really found the pressing need to dig it up artificially, though tonight it was on his mind.
Sherlock's lips kissed their way down from the scar under John's eye to his mouth where they locked in a delicious and heated kiss, one designed specifically get blood flowing to certain places that would have sensuous attention lavished upon them soon enough. Yet, somehow, John retained piece of mind enough to want to do something very specific that could quite possibly ruin both of their evenings, but he did it anyway. Gently, he rolled Sherlock onto his back and ran his hands down the long, pale arms that had tried to wrap themselves around him, his fingers secretly searching for the pockmarked arm that he wanted. He laced his fingers with Sherlock's left hand and held it down, outstretched and moved his mouth to the white skin that hid the marks of countless needles from those dark times under the haze of cocaine. With characteristic gentility John ghosted his lips over the now barely visible marks in an act of love that he hoped would not go misunderstood by his lover. John noticed the immediate stiffness in Sherlock's entire body at the action; the detective was surprised and not entirely pleasantly so.
However, he trusted John in whatever he was doing and allowed his lover to amuse himself on the scars of an old life he felt no calling to return to. Then John used the tip of his tongue to run along the crease of his elbow and his arm jerked reflexively. The doctor shot him a mischievous look.
"Ticklish?" he said through a smirk and Sherlock pushed him over onto his back, pinning John's arms above his head. He looked down happily; John did not make a big deal out of the marks of his past, he neither sought nor offered overwhelming and complex emotions, just that ever beautiful acceptance that made Sherlock feel things he had never experienced before, but it was such a good feeling, one he wasn't afraid of. How did this man know how to do everything so right? He paid homage to the past in purposely touching his arm like that, but had known exactly when to bring it back to light-heartedness with a little tickle before it got too much. He allowed his happiness to show in a wide grin that elicited a similar response from his lover, a moment of mutual understanding and sharing joy at what they had found in each other.
The happiness gave them both a rush of desire and excitement and the second Sherlock swooped down to claim the doctor's lips, he was met with an equally fierce kiss and the two of them pushed at each other, their lips crushed against the other's. John grabbed Sherlock's hips firmly and ground himself against the taller man who gasped in arousal, allowing the shorter man the advantage for a second and pushed him onto his side, still pulling those thin hips into his own and delighting in the friction that resulted.