Author Notes: The final chapter of this story - Enjoy! :)

Undefined and Beautiful

John was incredible.

Sherlock had lost count how often he had voiced this exact thought in his mind, but it didn't become less true. Sherlock had never met someone like John. Everyone else would have tried to initiate sex, after Sherlock had walked into the room, covered in nothing but a few stray water drops.

Sherlock watched John out of the corner of his eyes as his friend helped himself to his third pancake. He was definitely aroused. It was obvious from the way John held himself and how he minutely shifted his legs underneath the covers. And yet, he neither touched him nor devoured Sherlock's naked form with his eyes.

"Of course not, we are both enjoying our breakfast in bed, it's not really the time to initiate anything." John smiled fondly at him and Sherlock realised to his horror that he had given voice to his thoughts. "Firstly, it could lead to disaster with the pancakes, the syrup and the coffee on the bed and secondly... Just because I have a hard on, doesn't mean that I have to act on it, right this minute... or at all."

Sherlock frowned at the last part of John's short speech as he munched on a piece of pancake that was drowned in syrup. "You don't have to hold back just for my sake, you know. Even if I don't feel like doing anything, you are free to touch yourself."

The coughing fit that followed his words, made Sherlock wonder what he had done wrong, while he patted John's back and waited for his friend to get his breath back. When he did, John had amused tears in his eyes as he reached out and traced the back of Sherlock's hand with his fingers. "If I had acted on every erection I ever had, I would never have been able to share a bed with my former partners. Sometimes, it just happens, it doesn't mean that I have or want to act on it."

Sherlock frowned slightly at this. From his experiences - especially with men - he had gathered that they always wanted to act on their arousal. So either, John was lying - which Sherlock highly doubted - or it had something to do with the age of his former partners. His romantic encounters had all taken place in his twenties, before Sherlock had turned his back on any and all relationships... until John.

"It might have something to do with their age," John replied and Sherlock made a note to watch his mouth more closely, the next time, when he was thinking. "But if they always wanted to act on each and every spark of arousal and expected you to be available to them... they were arseholes. Your sexuality notwithstanding," John placed a chaste kiss on Sherlock's knuckles and a warm shiver ran down his spine. "You just don't act towards your partner like this."

Sherlock furrowed his brow, but nodded nonetheless at John's serious expression. He had always suspected that a relationship with John would be different from his previous experiences, but even he - the only consulting detective in the world - hadn't anticipated just how different it would be. It was almost indecent how fast his heart beat at the notion of getting to know all of John's hidden sides, now that they were together.

Sherlock grinned and transferred another pancake to his plate and added a heavy helping of syrup to the heavenly dish. "I see," Sherlock raised an eyebrow at John's muttered words, his mouth too full of pancake to answer. "I finally know how to get you to eat, when you are in one of your sulking moods."

"I never sulk," Sherlock protested half-heartedly and smiled quietly at the way his denial tore a laugh from John's lips. John was beautiful when he was laughing. His eyes flashed with mirth and amusement, while the lines around them crinkled in joy. Not to speak of the dimple at the corner of John's lips, which only appeared, when he was laughing or the way John's nose wrinkled adorably, while his whole body shook with joy. Before Sherlock had thought his actions through, he leaned forwards and sealed John's upturned lips with his own. A small gasp - paired with a chuckle - was torn from John's throat, before he returned the kiss in kind. It wasn't heated or frantic, merely a gentle and careful exploration of each other's lips, even when tongues came into play.

Sherlock sighed contently, when one of John's hands settled down in his hair, while the other stroked up and down his back. He loved this. This closeness to John. The warmth that spread from John's body into his, not only fueled by his friend's body heat, but also by the feelings that appeared to pour out of John and into Sherlock as their kiss deepened. Sherlock blinked one eye open briefly to check their exact positions and then moved on the bed, until he was straddling John's lap and kissing became more comfortable than while they both had been sitting sideways on the bed. He was just about to lower himself completely on John's lap, when strong hands on his hips stopped Sherlock in his motion and he broke the kiss as he glanced quizzically at John.

"I told you that I don't mind to feel your arousal, John. We can even get the covers out of the way. I really like to touch you." Sherlock returned John's amused look steadily and only a little confused as to why his friend was grinning up at him. Certainly, it couldn't be this amusing that Sherlock wanted to touch John. They had talked about this and Sherlock wouldn't even mind any sexual activities right now. In fact, he would really enjoy touching his friend everywhere, cataloging his reactions and making him enjoy himself. Still, if John didn't want to...

"You are about to get an even sweeter arse than you already have." Sherlock raised an eyebrow at the illogical statement. "You don't make any sense, John."

"And you are about to sit down on a plate, filled with pancakes and syrup, genius. So, if you don't fancy a sticky arse, I would suggest you not to sit down, just yet."

Sherlock glanced behind himself and spotted said plate with an annoyed sigh. One reason against breakfast in bed, he noted mentally, even when John reached behind him and placed the plate on the ground. Sherlock's own - still half-filled plate - went the same way, before John focused his attention back on Sherlock. "So - just to be clear - you are interested in doing something sexual, right now or do you just want to snog and cuddle? Both is fine with me, by the way." Sherlock noted the honesty mirrored in John's eyes and made a decision. "I want to touch you and to be close to you and... I would really like to see how you look, when you climax."

"For scientific reasons," John joked and Sherlock grimaced in distaste. "No, it's never for science with you. At least not when we are like this." Sherlock pursed his lips as he tried to come up with a way to explain his motivation to John. "I want to see you enjoy yourself in this way. I want to fill your expressions and reactions away in a special wing in my Mind Palace, while knowing that it was I, who brought you such joy and..."

The rest of his sentence was swallowed by John's mouth and Sherlock allowed him to move them around, until they were facing each other, while lying on their sides. "I'm sorry for this stupid joke," John murmured as he showered Sherlock's face in kisses. "I know that not everything is about science for you."

Sherlock accepted John's apology with a deep kiss and by the time, they broke apart, a rock hard erection was pressed against Sherlock's abdomen and he watched in fascination as a drop of pre-come rolled of its head. He sent his right hand between their bodies and frowned in surprise, when John caught his wrist, before Sherlock could so much as touch him.

"I really want this," Sherlock assured his friend as he glanced up in John's tense face. "If I didn't want to touch you, I would tell you."

"Duly noted." John winked at him and took a deep breath afterwards, but didn't let go of Sherlock's wrist. "But if you touch me now, it will be over much too soon and I... would it be alright with you if I touched and kissed you for some time, beforehand?"

Sherlock blinked and then nodded his consent as he rested his hand on John's thigh. "Yes, of course, just don't..."

"Try to arouse you," John finished the sentence for him. "I won't, promised." And for the first time in his life, Sherlock trusted someone's word on this subject. All his former partners had tried to stimulate his body sexually, at some point in their relationship. One or two had even succeeded in forcing an orgasm from Sherlock - when he had still been too young and inexperienced to stop them. They had proclaimed him cured afterwards, without noticing how much their forced attention had shaken Sherlock. It hadn't even crossed their minds that a bodily reaction didn't say anything about sexual attraction or that arousal was more than the total sum of stimulated nerve endings. Sherlock pushed these memories from his mind, as he closed the space between John's and his lips and allowed his friend to take the lead as their kiss deepened. A warm tongue explored his mouth, swept over his front teeth and nudged Sherlock's own tongue playfully, while eager hands roamed over his body. Sherlock pulled on John's good shoulder, until his friend got the hint and allowed him to roll on his back and draw John on top of him.

"Is this alright?" John broke their kiss and locked eyes with Sherlock as he settled more fully down on top of him.

"Yes." Sherlock couldn't help the content sigh that escaped his lips at being so close to John and feeling him like this. "It's perfect and... grounding." He blushed at his own words, but John only smiled and lay completely down on top of Sherlock, until they were chest to chest. "So this is something else you enjoy. I'm glad, I definitely enjoy it as well."

Sherlock couldn't say how long they stayed like this as he bathed in the warmth of John all around him, until his friend shifted against him and placed a tentative kiss on Sherlock's clavicle. It was the first of many to come, as John focused his whole attention on Sherlock's chest and explored the skin with lips and hands. Sherlock melted back into the pillow as John's loving ministrations filled him with a comfortable warmth, until...

"Yikes!"

Sherlock shot upright, even when John sat back on his heels with a sly grin on his face. "Sorry, I couldn't withstand the temptation."

"What did you just do?" The question left Sherlock's mouth, before he could think about it twice and he didn't get the chance to take it back, when John leaned back down, closed his lips around his navel and... blew.

Sherlock giggled as his whole stomach vibrated and John grinned up at him. "It's called blowing raspberries, you seem to like it."

"No, not at all," Sherlock denied and John would probably have believed him, if he had managed to keep that stupid grin from his face. As it was, his friend spent the next few minutes abusing his navel, until Sherlock was a laughing mess on the bed. "Stop... please, stop," Sherlock hiccupped and John's lips stopped their loving torture at once.

"Sorry, I got carried away a little." John looked up from where his head rested on Sherlock's s stomach. His eyes worried as they met blue ones and Sherlock could deduce what was going through John's head, even while he tried to get his breathing back. "I enjoyed this. It just became a bite too much... Obviously, you have figured out where I'm ticklish." A boyish grin lit up John's whole face at the reassurance, as he placed a final kiss on Sherlock's navel and then turned his attention to the places that lay below.

Sherlock trusted John - he really did - but he couldn't stop himself from holding his breath, when John started to massage his thighs and rubbed his cheek against the curls of Sherlock's pubic hair. He had lost count of how many times something had gone wrong at this point in the past - for various reasons - and although he trusted John, Sherlock still tensed up, when one finger stroked between his curls.

"Shall I stop?" Soft blue eyes looked questioningly up at him and Sherlock was at a loss of how to reply. He didn't mind John touching his crotch - in general - but the idea didn't sound appealing to him today. Maybe because, he had spent too much time thinking of the past or...

"Is it fine if I play a little with your hair down here, without stroking between your legs or shall I stop completely?" John's voice suggested that either option was fine with him and Sherlock allowed himself to relax. "Don't stop completely, but... stay above my navel, please."

"Whatever you feel comfortable with, Love." John complied without farther questions and all of Sherlock's remaining worries were drowned in loving kisses, until he was once more lulled into John's warmth. His mind only kicked back in, when he noted how John held his hips away from his body. Grinning into the kiss, Sherlock sneaked one hand between their bodies and closed it around John's cock. It was hard, yet smooth and warm and Sherlock decided he liked the texture of it as he stroked it tentatively. The moan, the action tore from John was an added bonus and without a warning, Sherlock rolled them over, until he was on top. The new position didn't only give him a better leverage, but it also offered him a perfect view of John as his boyfriend came slowly apart under his touches.

Sherlock noted how John's breathing pattern changed, when he sped up the motion of his hand around his cock. He filled away the exact shade of pink, in which John's chest and face flushed, when Sherlock used his other hand to massage his bollocks. An information about the exact number of beads of perspiration, which adorned John's forehead, was added to the spreadsheet about John in his Mind Palace, as was his pulse, right before he climaxed.

Only the part, in which John came with a loud groan, when Sherlock kissed his lips, didn't find its way in the analytical part of his mind. The memory was filled away in his heart, just like the way John clung to Sherlock afterwards and murmured his name like a prayer.

OOO

"You're beautiful," John whispered as he traced the line of Sherlock's collarbone with his index finger.

"Beauty is a social construct. I'm just lucky that how I look is considered attractive in our society. People from, let's say India, probably wouldn't..." John interrupted Sherlock's rant with a brief peck to his lips and chuckled quietly. "You know, you could just accept a compliment, without complaint."

"I wasn't complaining," Sherlock turned onto his side and John smiled, when his boyfriend was face to face with him once more. "I was merely stating some facts."

A quiet sigh escaped John's lips at this, but he couldn't seem to keep the sappy smile from his face, even when faced with one of Sherlock's numerous quirks. His good mood might have something to do with coming apart at his boyfriend's hands earlier. The fantastic handjob certainly hadn't been harmful to John's feelings. Still, even though the sex had been breathtaking, it wasn't the main reason for the silly grin on his face. No, John mused as he carded his hands through messy curls, the truth was far more complex than this. Even if they had only cuddled in bed for hours, John would still have considered himself to be the happiest man on earth. All because of one consulting genius, who was currently tracing John's jawline with his fingers - no doubt cataloging at what rate his stubbles were growing.

John swallowed against the lump that formed in his throat, when Sherlock wrapped an arm around John's middle and snuggled up against him. God help him, but John couldn't fathom how he came to deserve someone as amazing as Sherlock. He wasn't just beautiful - this was only a superficial part of him - but also a brilliant genius, a mad scientist, a total prick - more often than not - and stronger than anyone John had ever met in his entire life. And yet, at the same time, Sherlock could also be vulnerable and insecure, although he didn't allow many people close enough to see that side of him. John's arms came up around his boyfriend and tightened of their own volition, when he remembered how hurt Sherlock had appeared, when he had believed that John didn't accept his sexuality. He never wanted to see Sherlock looking like this ever again - hurt and insecure. And he despised everyone, who had ever made Sherlock feel like he was lacking in any way, because of his sexuality. If he could, John would give each of these people a piece of his mind - and a good beating - but since this wouldn't change the past and only cause more problems, the thought would remain a fantasy.

"You are fidgety." Sherlock lifted his head, from where it was bedded on John's chest, and frowned down at him. "Why? You aren't sexually aroused - your refractory period isn't this good anymore - and you are lying in a comfortable position. Your shoulder can't hurt you, so... Oh!"

John raised an eyebrow, when Sherlock struggled to sit up, but let his arms fall open to allow his boyfriend to move. He regretted his decision a second later, when Sherlock leaned back against the headboard and stared down at the sheets. "I apologize for making you uncomfortable, John. I should have realised that I was way too clingy and..."

"Stop right there!" John sat up as well and inched closer to Sherlock until their thighs were touching. "You weren't clingy. I like to cuddle and I would have said something, if I had been uncomfortable at any time." When Sherlock didn't look convinced at all, John filled the option of going to Mycroft and getting the names of all of Sherlock's exes away for later consideration, even while he tried to come up with something to restore the relaxed atmosphere from before. He didn't want to discuss his murderous thoughts with Sherlock, but if he tried lying to his boyfriend, then it would only backfire on John. Thankfully, Sherlock wasn't the only one who was graced by strokes of genius - although John got them far less frequently - and he allowed himself a small smile as he leaned into Sherlock's side. "I was just wondering what I could do for you."

At least this got Sherlock's interest as he turned his head to meet John's open gaze. "Why would you want to do something for me?"

"You just gave me a fantastic handjob and I wondered how I could reciprocate." It wasn't even a lie. John had wondered how to share some of his pleasure with Sherlock, when his boyfriend wasn't interested in sex, since his mind had come down from his endorphin induced high. So far, only vague ideas had formed in his mind, but not a concrete way to please his boyfriend.

"You don't have to reciprocate." Sherlock sounded bewildered at even the idea of it. "I don't want you to perform any sexual acts. I thought this was clear."

"Yes, it was and that's why I'm not talking about sexual acts, but... whatever else you would enjoy." Sherlock's expression grew even more bewildered and John had to hold tight on his temper as not to demand the names of his exes anyway. Instead, he opted for staying relaxed as he rubbed soothing circles on Sherlock's shoulder. "I could run you a bath or we could just cuddle some more. I could also give you a massage or we could grill marshmallows in the fireplace."

The tense atmosphere broke, when Sherlock snorted at the last one and turned to lean more heavily against John's side. "Mrs. Hudson would be appalled if we ruined the fireplace."

John grinned as he drew the covers up to cover their chests. "It probably wouldn't be worse than the one time you tried to determine if the flames were hot enough to burn a suckling to ashes."

"It was essential for the solution of a case," Sherlock muttered halfheartedly and then a considering look crossed his face, combined with an adorable blush. "If you really mean it - this reciprocating thing - there is something..."

"Yes?" John encouraged Sherlock with a kiss to his flushed cheek.

"I really like... if you would brush my hair, but you don't have to..."

"Where is your brush?"

OOO

"Perfect," Sherlock purred, which earned him a chuckle from John, as his boyfriend disentangled more of his curls and brushed them with just the right amount of force to make the experience enjoyable.

"Good, if I ever grow tired of working as a doctor and stitching you back together, I'll just open up my own hairdresser's shop." John scratched the nails of his right hand lightly across his scalp and Sherlock sighed contently. "No, I don't want you to do this to anyone else."

"I certainly wouldn't brush the hairs of any costumers, while they were lying naked in bed and I doubt that a lot of people would enjoy the experience like you do, but," John placed a light kiss on Sherlock's left shoulder blade. "I return the sentiment. I only want to brush your hair and no one else's."

"Mhm," Sherlock hummed noncommittal and all but melted into the mattress, when John kept brushing his hair with sure strokes. He almost couldn't remember the last time, someone had brushed his hair. Probably Mummy or Mycroft - maybe even his Dad - but Sherlock wasn't certain if it had occurred before or after he had started his transition. Most likely before he had come out to his family, since he vaguely recalled a time, when he had worn his hair short - almost completely shaven off - as not to be mistaken for a girl. He had started to grow it out again towards the end of his last school year, but by then, Sherlock had been much too old to allow Mummy to brush his hair. As for his former partners - women and men alike - none of them had appeared interested in fighting with his messy curls and truthfully, Sherlock wouldn't have trusted them with his hair. Of course, his hair got brushed, whenever he went to the hairdresser for a cut, but then it was completely professional and not nearly as enjoyable as it was, when John brushed his hair.

Goosebumps rose all over Sherlock's body, when his boyfriend loosened an especially terrible knot in his curls and he rubbed his cheek against the pillow as he bathed in the feeling. John was wonderful with his hands. At first, Sherlock had feared that this experiment would end in a disaster, as John would certainly grow tired of his stubborn hair and regret his offer. Obviously though, Sherlock had been wrong - as unlikely as it sounded. John didn't appear annoyed or irritated at all. If anything, Sherlock suspected that his boyfriend enjoyed the experience as he had started to hum quietly to himself and spent at least a whole minute on each strand of his hair, before he went on to the next one.

"You are like a giant cat," John grinned and Sherlock stretched lazily, when fingers stroked the nap of his neck teasingly. "A lazy, demanding, stubborn, stunning and absolutely beautiful cat." Sherlock decided to take the words as a compliment as his eyes fell shut of their own accord and he basked in the warmth and attention, John bestowed upon him. Sleep hovered at the edge of his consciousness and Sherlock allowed himself to drift in and out of a lazy slumber, while John's fingers ran through his hair. His touches were relaxing and grounding at the same time and they stopped much too soon for Sherlock's liking, when John shifted on the bed - probably to put the brush on the nightstand - and spooned up behind Sherlock.

"Why stop?" The complaint came over rather weak as Sherlock's mind couldn't seem bothered to stay online, when sleep lured just around the corner.

"Because you are falling asleep and I would rather hold you, while you rest for another couple of hours or so."

This sounded nice, Sherlock decided, although he couldn't stop himself from pointing out the obvious. "My hair will be messy again, if I," Sherlock yawned and felt himself sinking deeper into the embrace of sleep. "Fall asleep now."

"Then, I'll just brush your hair again, after you have woken up."

No point to argue with this kind of logic, Sherlock mused as a warm nose nuzzled his neck as he drifted off to sleep, secure in the knowledge that John would still be there with him, when he woke up.