"Could we go one night without having sex?" John complained teasingly as James nipped at his Adam's apple. Honestly, he wasn't entirely sure how James managed to navigate him back to the bedroom and onto the bed, but there he was: naked, pinned down to the mattress, and being teased, kissed, and bitten.

"Um… no," James responded, acting as if he had thought about it for a moment. "What fun would that be anyway, Johnny?"

Rolling his eyes, John playfully tried to shove him off. "I knew it. You only want me for my body," he jested.

James grinned up at him before yanking him into a bruising kiss. Their lips crashed into one another before the fight for dominance began. Every movement was precise – a tentative lick to lower the other person's guard, a lunge forward to claim the reward, a warning graze of teeth in order to force a retreat – but eventually James won. John was left breathless, gazing up at James with half-lidded eyes as he gasped for air.

After a long moment of just staring, James said, "I want to watch you prepare yourself."

The confession threw John for a loop as he stared at James for a long moment. Instead of reacting incredulously, he just burst out laughing. By now, he supposed he should be used to James's random demands in bed. Besides, it seemed important to James for whatever reason. "I've never done something like that before," he warned.

"And how is that different from everything else?" James pointed out.

"I'm just warning you in case I get a bit squeamish. I'm not used to being observed the way you observe me."

Cocking his head to the side, James pressed, "The way I observe you?"

"Yes," John affirmed. When James continued to stare at him in confusion, he explained, "I'm used to be analysed and deduced. But it's always been scientific. The way you analyse me… it's much more intimate than that, for lack of better words. It's almost like you're studying me, trying to remember every noise and movement I make." Flushing, he shook his head. "I'm being an idiot."

"No. You're quite spot-on with that explanation." Blinking, James leaned back and nodded. "Very well. Close your eyes then. Don't look at me until you feel that you're ready to."

John couldn't believe he was about to do this, to be perfectly honest. In fact, the idea of stretching himself for someone else had never occurred to him until that very moment. And the fact that he was going to do it in front of that very person… well, that was just awkward. Honestly, he felt like he was an exhibition – something for James to look at and enjoy – while doing this. But he wasn't uncomfortable enough to object, and James had seemed impassioned enough to convince him to do it. He reached over for the lube and slicked three fingers. Then, he rolled onto his knees and reached back. He closed his eyes and buried his face in the pillow as he slowly slid a finger inside of him. The feeling was a bit awkward as he felt his arse tense around his callused finger. It was thicker than James's fingers and not nearly as long. And having both the sensation of being penetrated and the warmth tight around his finger was nearly overwhelming. Very carefully, he pressed around for his prostate. Gasping, he felt his cock twitch as he located it. He slowly slipped in a second finger, shifting uncomfortably as he stretched himself a little more. Quickly, he struck his prostate before spreading his fingers. The pleasure counteracted the discomfort. Before he knew it, he was slipping a third finger inside of him.

Panting, John struck his prostate hard and let out a moan as he spread his fingers and continued to fuck himself. He slowly turned his head and gradually opened his eyes. As soon as he did, he let out another moan. Watching him intently, James was slowly stroking himself. It took a moment before he realised that the strokes coincided perfectly with John's thrusts. With that, he let out another moan and gave a grind down onto his fingers. James gasped ever so slightly, clearly pleased and surprised by the new reaction. Suddenly, their eyes locked, and they stared only at each other as they continued to move in rhythm. By far, it was one of the most intimate things John had ever done. He was vulnerable, opening himself in front of James in such a manner. It was practically a display of his secret affection, which should have put him more on edge than it did.

"James," he finally whimpered out, trembling slightly as he struck his prostate again.

The name alone had apparently been enough. In a flash, James threw himself forward. He fumbled for a condom, barely managing to slide it on properly. Once he had, he reached over and snagged up the lube, slicking himself with one hand as the other reached for yet something else. John closed his eyes as he splayed his fingers out as far as they would go. When he felt something cold wrap around his free wrist, though, he gasped and jerked around, removing his fingers from inside him in the process.

"What-?" he started to object, yanking at the handcuffs.

"I want to test something," James informed him, cutting him off.

Raising his eyebrow, John inquired, "And what might that be?"

Much to John's surprise, James shifted awkwardly as he heard the question. In fact, it was all a bit strange. James normally always checked that what he was about to do was okay. With this, however, he had just gone for it. It could be that he thought that they were comfortable enough around each other to just start experimenting without verbal consent. Or – more likely, given by his reaction – he didn't want to talk about what he was going to do. It was personal, going by how uncomfortable he had become. Observing James, he waited for an explanation.

"I want to see if you can come from being fucked by me."

"Haven't we already proven that enough?" John joked.

Shaking his head, James rephrased, "I want to see if you can come from being fucked by me alone."

"As in…"

"As in, no one is going to be touching your dick," James explained softly, searching John for any reaction.

John's eyes widened as he heard this. It was… interesting, to say the least. And part of him was also curious as to how the encounter would go, all things considered. "You should have checked with me first," he scolded. "But I'll allow it. However, if it becomes apparent that I'm not going to be able to-"

"Of course," James stated, cutting him off. "You'll orgasm no matter what – if I have to grab your cock to do so or not."

Sighing, John relaxed into the mattress. He felt James nudge him, and he flipped onto his stomach. However, when he felt James draw his hand back, he jerked away. "No," he said sharply. "Not behind my back. My shoulder won't allow for something like that. Cuff me to the headboard."

James didn't verbally respond. Instead, he brought John's hands up. John quickly rested his weight back on his knees, and he hooked his arms through two of the squares and shifted enough to let James tighten the second cuff around his other wrist. Giving them a testing pull, he nodded when he realised that nothing was going to give anytime soon. He shifted awkwardly, feeling vulnerable once more. With any other partner, he wouldn't enjoy being at someone's complete mercy. With James, however, it was different. It was erotic and overwhelming, and it made John's blood race through his veins.

Suddenly, John felt James's wrapped cock graze his entrance. He braced himself, waiting to be breached. He felt a nudge into him, and he pushed out in order to make up for the difference in size. James moaned low in his throat as he filled John up. Breathless, John panted as he felt James's balls finally hit his arse, and he felt so full that he wasn't sure if he had stretched himself out properly. James gripped John's hips and pulled out slowly. He sank back into John and struck his prostate, causing John to moan. Gradually, he picked up speed until he was pounding into John's body, and John was writhing under James's rough touch. Desperate, he tugged at the cuffs as he felt James unerringly hit his prostate repeatedly. His cock was flopping around, aching to be touched. James's hips swirled and jerked, snapped and slid – always in a different way in order to take John by surprise. Gasping and moaning, John tried to buck back on James's cock.

"James, I can't," he moaned out, that knot in his stomach twisting almost painfully. Just a couple of strokes, and he would come.

"You can. You're so close. I can feel it, John. I can make you come," James panted out. He gave a particularly hard thrust into John's prostate, making John let out a sharp cry. "Two minutes. Give me two more minutes."

John found that he couldn't really respond as his prostate was hit again. Letting out a moan, he tossed his head back and his arms went slack. "James. James, please. Please," he begged as he began to tense up. He was so close to coming, and he just needed one more thing to push him over. All of a sudden, he felt a sharp pain in his right shoulder as James's teeth dug into his skin. Pain mixed with pleasure, and it was enough to send him over the edge. Coming hard, John let out a strangled yell. James pounded erratically into his body a few more times before coming as well. His moan was distorted due to his teeth still being clamped down onto John's skin. Both of them slumped down slightly, James kissing John's bruise as he released his hands from the cuffs. John gently pulled his hands down, checking them for any chaffing, as James tied off the soiled condom and pitched it.

When he felt James collapse back into the mattress right next to him, John hesitated a moment before sliding over and slotting his body against James's. When James, obviously startled, looked down at him, John explained, "My space is dirty because of your little experiment. The least you could do is let me sleep on your side tonight."

James hesitantly wrapped his arms around John. John could feel just how tense he was, and it almost got the point when John himself decided that this was a bad idea. Just as he was about to pull away, James wrapped his arms a bit tighter. "This is fine. I'm just not used to being so affectionate."

Pausing, John turned back around and stared at James's bare chest. He must wax or something, because his chest was completely free of chest hair. Slowly, he reached out and began to trace on James's chest. There was a long moment of silence before James began to chuckle, the laugh rumbling his chest. Surprised, John looked up and snapped, "What?"

"Plotting something there, Johnny-boy?" James teased.

Blinking a few times, John processed everything before laughing as well. He had been tracing out the cuts needed to perform an autopsy. "Maybe I am," he responded, still chuckling. "Maybe I'm going to be your demise."

"You?" James scoffed. "I've evaded every police organisation and several governments, including the British, ever since I began consulting. I have survived seven assassination attempts and an encounter with the one and only Sherlock Holmes. And you think that you are going to be my demise?"

John responded, "Yes. Because you underestimate me. You know, you really shouldn't underestimate people. I thought you would have learned that after all this time."

"Wouldn't that be something, though. Manage to make it this far without dying or being caught only to be ruined by a former army doctor."

Grinning, John chided, "You would have it coming."

"I suppose I would." There was a heaviness in James's voice that John wasn't used to hearing. He sounded sincere.

Even so, John couldn't bring himself to comfort him. James had caused a lot of chaos and destruction in the world. How was he supposed to tell him that everything was alright? That he could repent? Hell, was he even interested in repenting? As far as John knew, James didn't feel particularly guilty about what he had done. He always had an excuse or reason for every move. So he didn't say anything, opting to close his eyes instead and just enjoy the warmth that radiated from James.

After a long pause, James pressed, "Is this what normal couples do?"

"Yes."

He hummed in response. "I suppose it's not terrible. I guess even normal people get it right every now and again."

"I'm glad you approve," John joked, smiling softly before nestling a bit closer. After a moment, he decided that he was too cold for his taste and began to blindly pat around for the duvet. A second later, he felt James shift. Something covered him, and John sighed as he felt the duvet start to trap their heat underneath it. Almost immediately, James's arms returned to their original position around John's body. "I've always found it nice to have some physical interaction after sex."

James snorted. "You should have told me sooner."

"Make up for lost time then," John retorted lightly.

Yet another minute of silence passed between them. "What else do people usually do after having sex?" James finally inquired.

Shrugging, John responded, "It's different for every couple. I personally like to cuddle. Others like to talk. Others like to just pass out. If there's something you would like to do, all you have to do is tell me. I'll try to accommodate."

"I suppose talking might be nice," James said after another pause.

John hummed in response. "About what?"

"I don't know. About anything – whatever you want to talk about."

Thinking about it a moment, John finally opened his eyes and replied, "Well, we're going to have to get a bit more comfortable if we're going to lay here and have a heart-to-heart."

"What's wrong with this?"

"I don't like putting pressure on my wounded shoulder for too long," John explained matter-of-factly. He gently shoved James down so that he was lying on his back. Then he rested his head on James's chest, feeling each breath and hearing his heartbeat. Instantly, he felt James's fingers run through his hair before resting on his head. He tossed an arm over James's chest and pressed up against him. In response, James crossed his other arm over John's, resting his hand on his stomach.

"If I knew it would be like this, I would have messed up your side of the bed more often," James joked.

"We would have stopped having sex." His head vibrated with the chuckles that rumbled through James's chest. "What? We would have!"

"You would have given up being fucked by this hot body just because you couldn't sleep on your side afterwards?"

Raising an eyebrow, John affirmed, "Hell yes, I would have. You don't understand how much I love sleep. Sleep should always come first in someone's life. Before food. Before water. Sleep is man's best friend. If I couldn't sleep on my side of the bed nearly every night because of our sex, I would have put a stop to our shenanigans."

"Shenanigans!" James echoed playfully. "You wound me with your words, Johnny-boy."

John rolled his eyes in response. "Is this really what you had in mind when you said that you wanted to talk?"

"No, but it is better than nothing."

John shifted a touch, repositioning his head so that it was parallel from where James's heart would be. "Any ideas as to what you want to talk about yet?"

Letting out a long sigh, James gently circled his fingers around John's scalp. It was oddly comforting. "I don't know. Tell me about something. Something that Sherlock doesn't know."

John was somewhat surprised by the request, especially since it had that little add-on at the end. He thought about it for a long moment, trying to figure out what he had not told Sherlock. Since they lived in such close quarters, either Sherlock deduced it or it came up during some event or conversation. Now that he thought about it, John realised that Sherlock knew him the best. Suddenly, he felt a small pang of homesickness and quickly shoved down those melancholic thoughts.

Finally, he started, "Sherlock knows that Harry and I have never got on, but he doesn't know why." He licked his lips and began to draw patterns on James's chest again. It was a bit of a nervous habit. When he was talking about something personal, he liked to have something to do in order to distract himself. It made it feel as if he wasn't as vulnerable as he was. "We're twins, you see. She's just a couple minutes older, but she never let me forget it. When we were growing up, she always got what she wanted while I never did. I guess it was because I was the boy, so they thought I needed less attention or affection. God, one year I wanted a drum set so I could learn how to play drums. Unfortunately, she wanted some super special doll house that year. Guess who won out? Because her doll house cost so much, I wound up with a clarinet instead of drums. I should have known better than to ask anyway." His voice was incredibly bitter as he spoke. He knew it was childish to still be so upset about something that happened thirty years ago, but he couldn't help it. For once, he had wanted to win, and he lost time and time again.

"I think the clarinet suits you more anyway," James offered softly, his fingers still making those soothing circles. "There's a bit more finesse that comes with the clarinet. With the drums, you hit something – in a beat, yes, and with different strengths – but you're more graceful than that."

"I didn't know you were such a charmer, Mr Moriarty," John responded jokingly.

James laughed. "I have my moments. But please, continue."

"Oh… well… she always had more friends than me, although her friendships never really lasted. There was always something dramatic going on in her life. She was a bit of an attention-seeker, you see. So it was always a love-hate relationship between her and someone else. If there wasn't drama happening then her world was ending. Actually, when she first came out, I thought she was only doing it for the attention. When our parents had such an adverse reaction and she still stood her ground, though, I realised that it was real. I, of course, accepted her for who she was. She might drive me a little crazy, but she's still my sister."

"Sounds like such an angel," James noted sarcastically.

John sighed. "We might have a turbulent history, but she's still blood. Besides, she's had a couple of rough patches since coming out. Dad wanted nothing to do with her, and Mum didn't really know how to please both sides. At eighteen, she left the house and moved in with her girlfriend Clara, who later became her wife. She started drinking soon after leaving the house and became an alcoholic. Then she and Clara wound up not working out, and they got a divorce. But she's trying to get sober – going to rehab and everything. It's been the first step forward she's had in years."

"How long do you think it's going to last?" James pressed.

"Piss off," John snapped back. He never liked to talk about the frailty of Harry's condition.

James stilled, clearly realising that he had said something wrong. After a long moment, he admitted, "When I was younger, I always wanted to be a professor. Mathematics at first. Psychology later on. Thought about taking on patients as a psychologist or psychiatrist. Only the interesting ones, of course. But consulting pays better and keeps me entertained, so I wound up pursuing that instead." John grunted in acknowledgement, still sore about the comment before. "I have a younger brother, too." This caught John's attention. "He's a station master in the west of England. Doesn't bring too much attention to himself, and we haven't contacted each other in years, so I don't worry about him anymore. Last I heard, he was recently married with a baby on the way. That was over ten years ago…"

"Why don't you contact him?"

Scoffing, James answered, "Besides the fact that it would do nothing but put him in danger? We've never been close. We were total opposites. I was incredibly intelligent, mildly introverted, and small for my age. He was – to be perfectly honest – stupid, extroverted, and athletic. In school, we hardly ever spoke to one another. He just hung out with the other football players while I buried myself somewhere in the library. When I went off to university, I broke off all ties with him. I contacted him once since then out of boredom. Once I heard about his frankly dull life, though, I just let everything drop. Hardly worth my time, anyway. Especially since he himself had never once attempted to contact me either."

"You're telling me that he could contact you on a whim?" John inquired sarcastically.

"I was taking care of our mother at the time. He had her address, so yes, he could get in contact with me whenever he wanted those three years before she passed. But he didn't," he informed John. Then he paused and muttered, "I've honestly got to figure out how you manage to be such a good sounding board. It's almost eerie just how much I tell you without thinking it over first."

Sighing, John responded, "If you're worried about Mycroft hearing about this-"

"I'm not," James cut in. John was shocked and speechless, looking up at James with wide eyes. "I wouldn't have told you if I was worried about Mycroft. Honestly, Johnny, do you think me a fool?"

John said nothing in response, still processing what James had just indirectly told him. And then suddenly, everything started fitting together. James trusted him – he knew that from when he was allowed to order his own food – but this was trust on a different level. After all, there would be nothing stopping John from spilling everything to Mycroft once he was returned to 221B. But James believed in him, and that's why he felt open enough to tell John everything.

"I'm honoured. Thank you."

"What?" James inquired, not following John's line of thought. Their eyes met a moment, and he suddenly looked surprised. A split second afterwards, he looked incredibly worried. The expression passed by so quickly, though, that John wasn't even sure if he saw it in the first place. "Johnny-boy, I know that you won't tell the Ice Man because my brother has nothing to do with this. He's not in my life, and he has a family of his own to take care of. You wouldn't be so cruel as to put all of that in jeopardy. Especially when he's an innocent civilian."

So it wasn't a matter of trust. John was crestfallen but managed to keep it from his face. "Ah, I see," he murmured, looking back down at James's chest. He closed his eyes, tossing a leg over James's in order to anchor him down. "I'm tired. Let's just go to sleep."

James hummed in response, his chest vibrating. Reaching over, he turned off the light before shifting slightly in order to get comfortable. John laid awake for a long moment, thinking about everything and nothing at the same time. He had made a mistake by placing too much stock into what James was saying. Because of that, he wound up misinterpreting everything, which had actually hurt his feelings more than he expected. He knew that he had fallen in love with James, but it seemed to be getting deeper with every passing day. Part of him wondered how many days he had left of this while another part informed him that he didn't want to know. Honestly, John was glad he had stopped counting so long ago. It meant he wouldn't have that horrible countdown constantly in the back of his mind. He could enjoy every second of the here and now with James.

And wasn't that what really mattered? No matter how much time he had left, he knew that he needed to make the best of it. After all, they had just opened up yet again to each other. Slowly but surely, they were letting the other person get to know them not for their career choice or opposing opinions but for their personalities and life stories. Shifting, John pressed his head firmly into James's chest, listening to the deep, even breathing and the soothing heartbeat. Without him even knowing it was happening, his mind shut down, and he slipped into a peaceful sleep.