A long one and M-rated. You have been warned.

Chapter 5

Watson stood nervously on the steps leading up to 221B. He quickly re-read to message from Holmes that Ms Adler had passed on with conflicting thoughts. He wanted to follow Holmes' instructions… but which ones? One half of him wanted to burst in and beat the impostor to within an inch of his life, the other wanted to get to know him and find out what he knew (preferably without pumping the fake Holmes for information—his words exactly).

Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves John entered the house laying his coat and hat on the side-board and made his way up the stair-well to Holmes' chambers. He knocked and then knocked again when he got no answer the first time. There came a muffled voice saying "It's Open!" and he turned the handle, stepping inside.

An odd smell flooded his nose, one completely different from what he was normally used to. He frowned spying the newly cleaned space. His eyes were draw to the desk that was covered with oddly shaped metal pieces and then to a chair that had a cloth covered tray placed upon it. "Holmes? Holmes, what are—OH!"

Tony grinned patting the space next to him on the floor. "Watson! Come on in and shut the door." He turned back to the bowl and stirred its contents. Hearing footfalls coming closer he raised a single finger. "Strip to your shirt sleeves, no collars or ties. Take off your shoes, socks and leave your cane on the table." The gloop in the bowl was just about ready, dipping a finger in and sucking at the brown goo made him smile, oh he was going to have fun tonight. "Pass the tray will you, old boy?"

Watson carefully placed the covered tray down before joining Tony on the tiger rug. Peering into the bowl, at its contents Tony was stirring, he blinked, "Does Mrs Hudson know you've stolen her private chocolate stash?"

Tony smirked coyly, "Not as such, and I didn't steal it. I borrowed it." John looked at him doubtfully. He shrugged looking into the bowl, "Hm…needs something more. I wonder…" His eyes roamed the room, to the book case and spied a half-full bottle of amber liquid. Hopping to his feet, snatching said bottle and removing the cap he sniffed and jerked his head back, "Good God!"

"Trouble?" John looked up from his seat on the rug. He was stirring the gooey chocolate like the obedient soldier he was, even though Tony hadn't asked him to. He grinned at the bottle, "I see you've found Mycroft's present. He always gets the good stuff."

Mycroft? Tony racked his brain, wishing that he'd read some of Pepper's books. "Err, yeah…Mycroft…" He narrowed his eyes a bit. "Birthday?"

"Case." Watson clarified and then nodded towards the bowl. "Now will you tell me what is going on?"

"Of course." Tony snatched up two glasses, plonked himself next to John on the rug pouring them both a drink. Handing John his he set the bottle down close-by. Taking a quick gulp of his drink he shifted closer, maybe a little too close, to John and gave him the Stark smirk, pinching the corner of the tea-towel he drew his arm back. John's blinked at the tray, the many small bowls on it and their contents ranging from halved strawberries, grapes, apple segments, ginger-snap cookies and sponge slices. "This, my dear, is something call fondue. It should be done with bread and cheese. But…" He took an apple segment, dipped it into the melted chocolate before lifting it to his mouth, closing his eyes in bliss at the crunch and sweetness combo. "This version is much more fun."

John stared at him; mouth agape, for long minutes before downing his glass in one and then reaching over for a ginger-snap, dunking it in the chocolate mix. Tony hid another smirk behind the rim of his glass as John's expression mellowed, leaning back against the couch with a low groan of happiness.

Yep, Tony was definitely going to have fun tonight.

The night rolled on, the drink was flowing, the atmosphere calming and then John blurted out into the quietness, "I know who you are!" before quickly slapping a hand over his mouth, eyes wide.

Tony tilted his head his way slowly raising a brow, "Oh you do, do you?" his words were slightly slurred, which wasn't surprising since he was on his fourth…fifth glass? "How much do you know? Hm?" John lowered his hand to speak but Tony stopped him with a raised finger. "No. Don't say a word. I know just the thing!" A gleam entered his dark eyes. He quickly divested both of them of their drinks, earning him a confused look from John, and sat back down beside the doctor, again a little closer than necessary. "How 'bout a game?"

"G-Game?"

Tony leaned against his shoulder, "Yup. My version of Kiss and Tell. Wanna know the rules?" At such close range he saw Johns gulp and nuzzled in, "C'mon, John…humour a guy, huh?" he wrapped a hand around John's bicep and squeezed. The muscles beneath his fingers bunched and relaxed, Oh…yes please he thought nuzzling in again. "Well?"

A nod and then a shaky, "O-OK."

A pleased hum left Tony's throat. "That's the spirit. The rules…the rules are simple." He lifted his head bumping his nose against the underside of John's jaw and felt him jump. "You ask question. We kiss. I spill beans."

"What! I'm not going to kiss you!"

He pouted and whined, "But, Jjoohnn…" wrapping his arms around John's torso and squeezing tightly. "Please? Look at me; I'm a good looking guy. I'm god's gift to men and women alike." Tony pulled back, his 'game-face' in place and deepened his pout, "Please?"

John pinched the space between his eyes like he was getting a migraine, "You're drunk."

"And your point? Oh, c'mon! Just one tiny kiss (and maybe a night of drunken, wild sex. He added silently.) That's all I want and I know you've thought about it too. Don't lie to me 'cause I've seen the way you look at me when you think I'm not looking. You can't wait to pull me close…or bend me over and-" the rest of his words were cut off by John's hand firmly over his mouth.

"Good lord, don't you ever stop?" From behind his hand he saw the skin around Tony's eyes crinkle and knew he was grinning. He slowly lowered his hand; it fell limply to his side. "Holmes, I…" Tony was on him in an instant, it was supposed to be a brief kiss but Tony couldn't stop himself. He pressed his lips more firmly against John's and felt him give in (just a tiny bit.) he pulled back signature smirk in place. John just stared wide eyed at him.

"That's one way to shut me up." The genius murmured softly. "But there are others." Getting shakily to his feet he grabbed John's hands and pulled him up. Thanks to their over-indulgent of alcohol John smacked into him nearly causing them to fall back down, John quickly put his arms around the small of Tony's back. Tony's hands wrapped around John's biceps again and squeezed, John responded by flexing his fingers: his eyes had gone very dark, almost black. Tony let his hands wonder, up John's arms to around his neck bringing their faces close. "Bedroom?" he whispered.

Things got heated pretty quickly. Clothes were shed and left in a messy trail from door to bed. John found himself pushed onto the pile of un-made sheets while Tony quickly rooted around the bed-side cabinet extracting a vial of oil and a handful of rubber-bands. John's eyes widened at the small objects, Tony turned to him slipping out his shirt (keeping the under-shirt on the hide the reactor.) nibbling his lower lip.

"You still with me, soldier?"

For his answer he was pulled forcefully onto the bed, John's mouth attacking his with such determination he had a hard time keeping up, not wanting to break contact for even a second. But he had to when he felt John's hands skim down his back, his hips to land on his butt. It was with heavy regret he tore his mouth away panting, "Wait…John, wait…" He reached over for the vial, nearly knocking it over in his haste, snatching up a rubber coil. Settling comfortably astride John's hips Tony looked doubtfully the band, "I hope these are the right size 'cause…" he looked down between them and smirked, "damn!" Covering his fingers with the oil he reached behind, going up on his knees and, tilting his head back with a sigh, slipped two in, his hips jerking. After a short time his head fell forward, his hooded gaze met John's shocked one and he smiled filthily, "You…You OK doing it like this?" John could do nothing but nod, lay back and watch as Tony poured more oil onto his fingers, slick him up before gently rolling the rubber on in a well-practiced move. John's breath was coming out in huffs when Tony pushed the oil to one side, lifting himself once again, holding him in position with trembling fingers as he sank back down. Both men screamed: one in pleasure, one in pain. John held onto the sheets for dear life, Tony slumped forward hands on John's stomach.

"John…" Tony breathed, mouth open and slack, "John…I can't…" Tony shifted his hips and groaned deep feeling the burn turn to pleasing fullness. His hands slid up from John's chest to his neck, ghosting around the expose column of skin. "Fuck me…" He growled roughly. John, muted by the immense sensations of being inside the compact yet gorgeous body above him, merely nodded prying his hands from the sheets and putting them gently onto Tony's waist. "Yeah…" Tony grinned down at him drawing his knees closer to John's body and started rocking in the cradle of his hips. "Was right 'bout you, wasn't I? Couldn't wait to bend me over and take me."

John closed his eyes with a low groan, fingers pinching the tight skin over Tony's hips before sliding up; lightly tugging at the hem of the under-shirt he was wearing. The play-boy's rhythm stuttered for a second. Chocolate brown met sea blue in a steady stare. "Please…" John whispered, shaky fingers disappearing under the shirt creeping up his sides. "Can I see? I want to see you…" A soft expression crossed his face. "…Tony."

Tony eyes widened to the size of small plates. Crap, he really does know who I am. Locking eyes with John he searched for any underlining threats if he did reveal himself. John looked back; the expression on his face didn't change and he slowly nodded. Hands leaving John neck to the hem of the shirt Tony inched it up, past his stomach and off. He gave John a smirk fingers fumbling for an edge of the giant sticky plaster/Band-Aid on his chest. John was biting his bottom lip, eyes glued to it as he peeled it back. The room was bathed in the soft blue hue of the arc reactor, now it was Tony's turn to bite his lower lip as John drank him in: every inch, bump and scar…every imperfection. John's eyes, which had gone huge, finally left the light embedded in his chest to flicker up to his face. The smile had returned and Tony wasn't sure what that meant.

He found out a split second later: John pushed himself up into a sitting position arms going around Tony's back. Tony's own arms curled around the doctor's neck, teasing the soft locks at the nape. John sighed peacefully nuzzling in and then started nipping gently. Tony arched his neck with a short gasp his back following as John went lower and lower. With gentle nudges John managed to get Tony to move his legs so he was sitting in his lap. The movement caused him to sink just that little bit deeper making Tony whimper at the sensation. John smiled sympathetically at him. "It's OK. I won't move until you're ready. Just tell me when." Tony nodded swooping in for a quick kiss, planting kisses over John's face and temples before returning him to his neck. John picked up from where he left off: nipping and then soothing the areas with his tongue. "You're beautiful." He murmured against the skin just above the reactor.

Tony shivered. "Please, John…" Tugging the doctor back to his mouth he left biting kisses urging him to fall forward. They fell backwards onto rumpled covers; John bumped his forehead on the arc-reactor's casing with muttered oath, Tony nearly smacked the back of his head on the bedstead. They shared a look before bursting into helpless giggles that quickly turned into moans when mouths were reattached…

Thank God Mrs Hudson was a heavy sleeper.

A shadow entered Baker Street in the wee small hours of the morning. It ascended the stairs heading straight to Holmes's chambers. Opening the door as quietly as it could it made its way inside, stopping briefly at the fireplace taking in the bottle, the half empty glasses, the silver tray and large bowl full of a hardened brown substance. The shadow's eyes drifted around the room, at the desk by the window and edged closer. Picking up sheets of parchments brown eyes narrowed at the drawings of what looked like a suit of amour with hastily written notes here and there.

A sound startled them into dropping the papers and turning with a hand sliding into a pocket for their pistol. The sound had come from behind a slightly closed door that led to the bed-room. A smirk flickered across chapped lips as they moved forward, fingers curling around the door and inching it open. At the sight that welcomed them the smirk grew.

"My boys…my sweet boys…"

Tony and John were sleeping at the foot of the bed. Both on their fronts (Tony slightly on his side) a thin sheet twisted around waists and tangled among legs. Tony, it appeared, had managed to nab a pillow and was hugging it under his chin. John was draped over Tony's back, seemingly just as content to use him as a pillow, his fingers drawing patterns over twitching muscles at Tony's waist as he slept. The shadow stepped to the beds' edge and leaned over the slumbering men. Lightly running slightly calloused fingers through dark and then wheat tone hair they left ghostly kisses on the tops of heads and backed out.

"I'll be seeing you two very soon. I promise."

Sherlock looked at the two people who meant the world to him, smiled softly and left, closing the door behind him.

Dear readers, you have been amazing and taken this story to your hearts. I thank-you with kisses and hugs. Hopefully next up-date will be another double within the next few weeks. M.x