Common Grounds Chapter 28, a sherlock fanfic

"I think I should apply to Oxford when this is over with." Sherlock said over the line late one November evening.

"Really?" John yawned. Sherlock knew that John had to get up for an early class in the morning but he couldn't be bothered to care. He just wanted to listen to John a bit longer.

"Yes." Sherlock answered. "I believe that I would be taken much more seriously if I spend a ridiculous amount of money securing a piece of paper for myself."

"You're cynical." John giggled.

"And you're wonderful." Sherlock said in a fit of emotion. Gods, this was awful. He hated being away from John. He knew why it was necessary but the longer he spent away, the more he was questioning the logic of this decision. Sure, they'd been able to distract Jim long enough to dismantle a major section of the criminal web in Rome, but it was tedious work. Keeping Jim's interest in his movements in Norway while Mycroft's people worked at a glacial pace in Rome had just about drove him to madness.

"Are you alright?" John asked curiously.

"No." Sherlock huffed. "You're not here."

"You're not even allowed to tell me where here is." John answered. "Don't you get vacation time?"

"This job is too important." Sherlock sighed.

"Right." John said. "Queen and country?"

"Bugger that." Sherlock grumbled. He was developing a migraine. These past months had been awful and it didn't look to be improving any time soon.

"Sherlock." John said seductively. "I seemed to have accidentally spilled a copious amount of lubricant on my very hard, erect cock."

"Are you trying to proposition phone sex?" Sherlock said feeling his entire body twinge with desire.

"Just making conversation." John answered innocently. "Any suggestions on what to do with the pre-come leaking out of my erection as I stroke myself?"

"Oh," Sherlock said intelligently. He quickly ripped his pants down past his knees and took his growing erection in hand.

"I wish you were here." John whispered over the line.

"Tell me…" Sherlock whimpered. "Tell me what you'd do."

"I want you inside me so badly." John moaned over the line. "I want to run my tongue over your nipple and suck deeply while I stroke your cock."

Sherlock's breathing seemed to stutter in his chest as his hand sped up quickly. "Go on, John."

"I'd take you into my mouth and swirl my tongue lightly over your slit massaging your balls until you were gasping beneath me." John continued. "Fuck Sherlock, I'm so hard right now."

"You've no idea." Sherlock gasped. "What else?"

"I'd kneel in front of you on the bed and spread my legs wide so you could finger fuck me." John breathed raggedly. "Until I was so open and needy that I was crying out to have you inside me. Only you. Forever you."

Sherlock felt his release on the verge of overwhelming him as he pumped harder feeling his hips buck involuntarily against the scratchy hotel sheets.

"I'd beg to have you inside me, Sherlock." John continued. "You'd slide into me and I would be so hot. So tight. I'd moan your name as I pushed back against you needing more of you, all of you inside me. And just that Sherlock. The feel of you pounding into me, owning me, would send me over the edge. I'd shout your name as I came and my entire body would constrict around you deliciously. Holding you tight inside me as I keened your name."

"Oh, fuck…John…oh John!" Sherlock groaned as his orgasm swept through his body sending pulse after pulse of come over his belly and coating his hand. They were both breathing heavily over the line for several seconds before either of them recovered.

"I need you so badly." Sherlock said brokenly.

"I'm right here." John said simply. "Do what you have to do and I'll be right here when you come back. Just don't be too long about it, huh?"

"I swear John, as soon as I can, I'll be right there." Sherlock murmured. "It's the only place I've ever wanted to be. With you."

"I know the feeling." John sighed and yawned again.

"You have class in the morning." Sherlock said quietly.

"Yeah." John said hesitantly. "Text tomorrow?"

"Of course." Sherlock answered.

"I love you." John said reverently.

"I love you too." Sherlock answered.

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"Sherlock." Mycroft sighed over the phone. "You have to check in regularly. I have to know where you are at all times."

I don't need a babysitter, Mycroft." Sherlock growled. "I'm eighteen."

"You know how this whole thing is upsetting Mummy." Mycroft scolded. "The only way that she would even agree to this scheme of yours was if we were in constant contact."

"It's not a scheme, Mycroft." Sherlock grumbled. "It's a highly intelligent, logical, strategic maneuver."

"Call it what you will." Mycroft said blandly. "It still has you dashing about Europe on your own manipulating the ego of a madman."

"We're getting results!" Sherlock said passionately. "After Switzerland, he barely has a leg to stand on."

"Which is exactly why he will now be getting desperate." Mycroft cut in. "You know this. He's going to stop acting logically and start acting impulsively. Which, while stupid, is a lot less predictable."

"Moran is here, Mycroft." Sherlock answered. "I know it. We'll take care of him here and Jim will be child's play after that."

"Where is Jim now?" Mycroft asked. "I thought they were in Switzerland together?"

"He bought a ticket to Oslo the day after the arrests were made." Sherlock answered.

"We don't have any footage showing him entering Norway." Mycroft said feeling something niggling at the back of his brain.

"He's there." Sherlock said confidently. "That's his second to last stronghold after London."

"Right." Mycroft answered. "Call me after you get Moran and we'll discuss your next assignment then."

"Will do." Sherlock said.

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John answered his phone and frowned as the familiar lack of noise greeted him. There was definitely something wrong with this phone. He was getting these non-calls at least twice a day now. It was bloody annoying. He pocketed his phone again before sliding into the booth. He ordered water and waited impatiently watching the door like a hawk. He sighed as his phone went again and expected static not even bothering to look at the caller ID.

"Hello?" He huffed.

"Is everything alright, John?" Mycroft's posh voice asked.

"Oh, Mycroft." He said thanking the nearest deity that the man wasn't here to see his embarrassed blush. "Sorry. I thought you were someone else."

"The phone you have has caller ID." Mycroft answered.

"Right." John said. "Yeah. I knew that."

"How are classes?" Mycroft asked blandly.

"Fine." John said confused. Mycroft rarely ever called him and if he did, it was to ask a list of very specific, information questions. He wasn't really one for small talk. At that realization, John's heart practically leapt out of his chest as he asked, "Is Sherlock alright?"

"Yes." Mycroft answered simply. "I didn't mean to alarm you. He's quite fine."

"Good." John sighed. "That's good. Do you know when he'll be back? It's been seven months already."

"I am sorry, John." Mycroft replied. "It is taking quite a bit longer than we had anticipated. It shouldn't be more than another three months."

John felt his insides curdle. Another three months sounded like a death sentence. He began to slip out of the booth and head for the door. He'd just have to text Molly and apologize. He didn't really want to study the endocrine system right now. He was just exiting the building when someone brushed against him causing him to drop his phone. He grabbed at it quickly and apologized profusely to Mycroft.

"It's quite alright." Mycroft said.

"Is there something particular you wanted?" John asked curiously.

"Just checking in." Mycroft answered.

"Okay." John said. "Well, I hope you have a good day."

"You as well." He replied. "Goodbye John."

"Bye." John said.

John walked back to his apartment in an extremely bad mood. It was lucky his roommate was out for weekend. He had no desire to interact with anyone else tonight. Besides, there was really only one person he wanted to spend time with. He pulled his coat tighter around himself and trudged through the icy winds. He caught the main door just as someone was leaving which was great because then he didn't have to hassle with the three different bloody keys his apartment building required. Slipping into his flat, he quickly shed his coat and made his way to the bathroom. Deciding to spend his evening with a quick shower, a dose of melatonin, and an early bedtime, he stripped in his room before entering the shower. He used up far too much hot water with quite possibly the most depressing wank of his entire life and exited feeling even more frustrated and tired. He checked his phone and felt his heart lift a little at the text on the screen.

I'm in a terrible mood.

What happened?

Sunburn.

Did you wear sunblock?

I got distracted.

Did you at least buy aloe vera for the burn?

Where would one go to get that?
SH

Any convenience store anywhere in the world.

Thank you, John. Your help has been invaluable.

You're an idiot.

The evidence does not support your statement.

Look in the mirror and try to text me that again.

How's your day?

Yeah, that's what I thought.

My day is less than fine. Talked to your brother.

What did he bug you about today?
SH

Said it was going to be at least another three months.

I am sorry, John.

Don't be sorry. Just get your arse home.

I know. This is awful.

What would you study at Oxford?

You. All the time.

Haha. Seriously, though. Didn't your tutors teach you everything anyway?

I'd probably go for Chemistry. Seems the most logical choice.

Where would you stay? In the dorms?

Are you being deliberately thick or are you fishing for something?

Fishing for something.

I'd live with you. No question.

Good answer.

I am a genius, John.

I'm off to bed. Had a crap day.

Call tomorrow?

Sounds great. Love you, you arse.

Love you too.

John plugged his phone in before popping a few melatonin and curling up tightly into the bed. He didn't hear a quiet scuffle outside his bedroom window nor did he hear the lock to his apartment crack open and footsteps whisper against the carpet stopping mere inches from his deeply asleep form. The only thing that registered in his sleep addled head was the feeling of cold steel against his throat and a mocking, giggle at his ear.

"Hello, Johnny Boy! Did you miss me?"

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So, that was my attempt at phone sex. Never tried it myself, seems a bit complicated...hope it was satisfying!

Oh yeah! Jim's found John! AHHHHH!