A/N: Thanks to all who are following and reviewing this story. You make my heart smile!

Warning: M/M Frottage - Lemon

Disclaimer: Still not mine

Beta: Jarri Scythe is the best!

Shake the Disease - 3

I took the next few days off work. It didn't improve my standing with my boss, but I decided that Sherlock needed to be my priority for the near future.

As he had promised, Sherlock brought me the remainder of his drugs and a wooden box containing his needles and other equipment. He placed them wordlessly in my hands and walked quickly away. Since recovering from his withdrawal he'd been quiet and distant. I think he felt ashamed and embarrassed about the entire episode.

I quickly disposed of the drugs, but puzzled over the box. It was clearly old and of a high quality, and had a highly polished, smooth exterior. The interior was lined with navy blue velvet, well-worn in places where the paraphernalia had rested. It seemed like it was too fine an object to throw away, yet I didn't want to ask Sherlock what its provenance was and possibly give him an excuse to keep it. I settled with throwing the needles and rubber tourniquet away and hid the box amongst my things upstairs.

The second night after "the incident" I coaxed Sherlock to come to bed with me a bit early. I wanted to finally talk out what had been going on between us and hopefully find out what was wrong and address it. I thought that maybe in bed, in the dark, he might find it easier to talk. It had seemed to work well for us in the past.

He agreed to my request to come to bed, with the condition that he be allowed to shower first. He'd been spending a lot of time in the shower, since the withdrawal. I wondered if it had some psychological comfort.

While Sherlock showered I changed the bed linens, with some sort of idle thought that this would be a "fresh start" for us after the emotional and physical turmoil of the past few days.

Once that was done I decided that I needed to take a shower as well, with clean sheets and a clean Sherlock, I didn't want to be the dirty part of the equation!

Once Sherlock was out of the bathroom, I headed in, promising to be quick. While I showered, I tried mentally rehearsing some of the things I wanted to say, but didn't get very far. Without knowing what Sherlock's responses would be, it was hard to know how the conversation was going to go.

When I got out of the shower, I could hear Sherlock playing the violin. That made me happy, he hadn't picked up his violin in a while, and I always felt that it was somewhat of a stabilizing influence on him. I was even happier to hear him play Elgar's "Nimrod" variation, the piece that he said reminded him of me. It seemed he was in a favorable mood toward me.

When I came out to the living room he stopped playing immediately and put away the violin.

"You could have finished the piece," I said, "I like hearing you play."

He shrugged, "I'm tired, I'll play for you tomorrow if you'd like."

There was a moment of awkward silence, and I turned and went into the bedroom, Sherlock following behind. We both climbed into the bed and I turned off the light.

After a pause I reached over and found Sherlock's arm and started running my finger up and down it.

"Sherlock," I began, "please tell me what's troubling you."

He paused a second, then said, "I'm concerned that you will not be satisfied with me exclusively, for the long term."

"Why do you think that?"

"Your history indicates that you prefer women, also, you seem to have some reluctance to have sex with me."

"It is true that I've only been with women," I said somewhat slowly, "but for whatever reason, it's never worked out. I've never had a long-term relationship with any woman. Sarah was the longest I ever had and as you know, we never lived together. My relationship with you has been the longest and most stable of my life. I can't imagine wanting to trade what we have for anything else."

I paused and when Sherlock didn't respond I continued, "As far as the sex goes...I'm a little intimidated, to be quite honest. You've always given the impression that you disliked the entire concept, and now it seems like you're pushing for it. Not only am I slightly nervous on my own account, never having been with a man before, but I feel...worried that you won't like it or that it will make things - I don't know - uncomfortable between us. I don't know what your expectations are, but I guess I'm a little nervous about living up to them."

"I'm hardly in the position to critique your performance, John," Sherlock said.

"I know that," I said hastily, "and that worries me as well. I don't want to be the one who ruins sex for you."

"I don't think you would ruin it for me. I never thought I would enjoy it in the first place. What we've done so far has been...unexpectedly enjoyable."

"Wait a minute. You never thought you would enjoy it?"

I could hear Sherlock shifting uncomfortably before answering, "I...mostly just wanted to feel close to you, and to know that you cared for me."

"Sherlock!" I exclaimed, but had no idea how to continue.

"I need to know, John, that you want me the way you've wanted the others."

"So...so you want me to prove it on your body? Regardless of what you may need or enjoy?"

He didn't reply.

I rolled over and propped myself up by his side and looked down where I could see a bit of light reflected in his eyes.

"Sherlock, I will never take you for my own selfish pleasure. We experiment and learn together what works for us, always. I want you to feel loved, not used."

As I said those words I felt a rush of emotion and physical desire flood my body. Suddenly, I did feel ready to express myself on the physical level. And, suddenly the answer came to me on how to take a first step in that direction.

"I'd like to kiss you, Sherlock, if that's ok."

"Yes."

I lowered my head and gently found his lips. I kissed them tenderly, gradually increasing the pressure and intensity. After a few long, languorous kisses I tested him with my tongue and he responded by opening for me. We mapped each other's mouths, sucking, nipping, and exploring. When I heard Sherlock moan in the back of his throat, I moved on to the next step.

I had been hovering over him, with my body off to the side. I pulled away and sat up beside his legs, smiling when I heard a small disappointed noise from Sherlock.

"Scoot over, toward the middle," I told him and he shuffled over toward me. I got between his legs and he spread them to accommodate me. I laid on top of him, and we both gave a slight moan as our bodies melded together. I could feel his erection through his pajama pants and I knew he could feel mine. I began to rock gently against him, just a bit, to gauge his reaction.

"John...oh...that feels..."

"Tell me," I whispered, thrusting a bit more intensely.

"Oh...so good, John."

I chuckled softly, and began nipping at his collar bones.

"God! John!"

Sherlock began thrusting back, after a few seconds, we had a steady rhythm going and Sherlock was clutching my hips, attempting to pull me closer, apparently.

I started my own litany of moans now. It felt different from any encounter I'd had before, but there was no question that I was loving every second of it. Sherlock was beyond responsive. I could hardly believe he was the same remote creature I had once thought of him as.

I ran my hands under his t-shirt and began teasing his nipples. His back arched off the bed with a cry.

"John! Oh God!"

He bent his knees so that his feet were against the bed to give himself more leverage.

"Is it good?" I asked.

He nodded and then moaned deeply, "John..."

His voice seemed to light me up all over. I threw off the sheet that had been partially covering us and in a quick movement I hoisted his legs over my shoulders. That placed us, well, right there and the feeling was just incredible.

Sherlock gasped, grabbing at my arms, "John!" he said frantically.

I could tell he was close.

"It's ok, Sherlock, I've got you. Just let it come."

"Oh God...John..."

"Come for me, love."

"Ohhhh..."

His head was thrown back, eyes closed tight, looking more pained than pleasured, and I felt the pulsing between our bodies, followed by a warm wetness.

He took a deep breath, opened his eyes and said, "I think I just experienced an orgasm."

To be continued...

A/N: Ok, um, that was my first attempt at kind of, sort of...smut...please be gentle (but honest)...