Disclaimer: settings and characters as depicted in BBC series not mine. No money being made. Plot is mine.

Waiting to Begin

A/N – light slash ahead

Of course, putting out the acceptance to the job offer had to be subtle. Firstly, he didn't want the fools at Scotland Yard to interfere with his plans and secondly, Moriarty would expect him to prove his worth as a prospective employee. That meant research, a bit of travelling about talking to just the right people and some rather tiresome waiting for information or responses.

Sherlock would have been in a very disagreeable mood about it all, if it weren't for the fact that he had John to work out as well. His discovery that John was apparently the perfect pillow, that his touch was unusually pleasant, not to mention addictive, had changed the nature of their relationship somewhat. Also, he had to ensure that John was able to access Mycroft's systems, which took a bit of teaching and more patience than he had.

They fought quite fiercely over the computer skills – John complained often that he 'couldn't read minds, Sherlock' and that his teaching skills were non-existent. Eventually John mastered the knowledge though, and Sherlock agreed that the next time John needed to learn a new skill; they'd get a professional in to instruct him. Sherlock was very relieved when it was all over, as it meant that John was more amenable to being touched once more – he'd refused to hold Sherlock's hand after some of their tiffs, which had discomforted the thin genius more than he'd expected.

In addition, John seemed to have hit a threshold in his recovery. It was as if the veteran doctor had required a certain number of days of stillness and quiet before throwing off the pain and illness and throwing himself actively into rehabilitating from his wounds. He stretched, moved and strengthened for long hours of the day, mocking up weights and other exercise equipment to assist in reclaiming muscle tone and health. Martha Hudson was keenly interested in this process and spent a lot of time assisting, either by adding a steadying hand or purchasing various food items of a specific weight to stand in for the more traditional accoutrements. The advantage to using tinned items was that the flatmates could eat them once it was all done.

Finally, all the possible signals of acceptance had been put in place and they were waiting for Moriarty to signal the next step. John had progressed to running laps up and down the stairs, carrying increasing amounts of weight as he did so, which made Sherlock nervous. He didn't want John to injure himself again, especially as he had barely recovered from the last injuries.

Therefore it was a completely altruistic gesture of Sherlock's when he would decoy his partner to the couch to do something that John called 'cuddling'. Sherlock would start out holding John's hands and end up pressed almost full length to his Heart, his skin tingling and his mind pleasantly numb. He had yet to work out why this contact felt so good, but John didn't seem to mind and had a seemingly endless array of touches to share with Sherlock.

Hand massages were good, especially after he'd been typing, texting or playing the violin for great lengths of time. In fact, he'd fallen asleep during a hand massage once, only to awaken a good seven hours later, his thoughts clearer and freer than they'd ever been after sleep. John had been sleeping in his own bed upstairs and had looked so peaceful that Sherlock had joined him, using the quiet time to re-evaluate his plans for Moriarty and put several contingency plans into place.

As clarifying as John's touch was on Sherlock's thought processes, it was the other effects that occurred that had Sherlock curious: for example, increased heart rate and sensitivity, as well as blood flow to an area that Sherlock usually ignored. He knew that John had noticed the effect that his touch had on Sherlock, but his Heart had never said anything about it, nor offered touches to that area. It was rather frustrating really, which prompted a Conversation even more uncomfortable than the one about Moriarty's job offer.

He blurted it out at his flatmate over tea and toast one morning, startling John with his question.

"Why won't you touch me everywhere?" was perhaps not the best way to begin, but John was generous and didn't call him on it.

"Because you're not ready for that," his flatmate's tone was calm and reasonable, which helped Sherlock regain some of his usual poise.

"I think I am," Sherlock retorted, "After all, I brought it up, didn't I?"

"Your body language says otherwise, Sherlock," John sipped his tea and put the mug down with a faint thunk, "You reach only for my hands and shoulders. You certainly don't seem to welcome any intimacy – kissing or other such things."

"You'd kiss me?" Sherlock was distracted by that, "I mean, it was often unpleasant when I… awkward and unhygienic."

"I wouldn't kiss you if either of us were sick or anything," John seemed amused, "And as for awkward, it depends on how relaxed you are about it – not to mention the skill of your partner."

Sherlock had to concede that his skill level in this arena was not the highest. John reached out and caught one of Sherlock's hands, a gesture that had become so natural that he didn't suspect anything until John raised it to his lips…

The touch of John's mouth was electric, even though it was a simple dry brush of flesh over his knuckles. Sherlock swallowed hard as the gentle touch repeated itself again, lingering a little longer the time. His mouth went dry as John turned his hand over a pressed another dry kiss to his palm, lingering once more, turning the single kiss into four or five, a hint of moisture creeping into the touch. John smiled at him, a wicked glint in his eye as he turned Sherlock's hand over once more and …

… drew a single finger into his mouth. Sherlock gasped and squirmed, his groin suddenly tight and aching as John's tongue caressed his finger gently. He could not contain a soft sound as a hint of teeth scraped slowly over the length of his suddenly sensitised flesh, and when John sucked Sherlock convulsed, his lap suddenly wet and sticky, his whole body singing as he panted for breath and John slowly eased his finger free of his flatmates mouth.

He barely noticed as John eased around the table and gathered him into a hug, letting Sherlock lean against him and recover his scattered wits.

"A good kiss can be worth its weight in gold," John sounded smug, which Sherlock supposed he was entitled to. He nodded his head against John's chest and caught his breath, but John didn't wait for that, "When you can show me that you are ready, Sherlock, then other touches will follow."

Sherlock hummed in reply and closed his eyes, wondering what it would be like to kiss John in the same way and resolving to find out once he'd had a chance to clean up and change his clothes.