Hello again, and thank you for reviews, alerts and favorites! It's good to know I'm able to write short stories and people are liking it. Here's John's chapter!

John Watson

A, John's, Town

London was theirs. The time they did it behind Angelo's was exciting. The first time they did it on a roof above the busiest street in town was fun. And then there was that crucial time in the fall when Sherlock dove into the Thames to rescue the gun a criminal had thrown, and ended up needing to be rescued by John.

Sherlock managed to swim back to the shore but it was John who hauled him up from the freezing water.

"Come one, you utterly mad bastard! Help me get these clothes off!" John growled from under the pier where he had dragged Sherlock and the detective shivered, pale as a sheet but had a glint in his eyes.

"I got the gun, J-John. A-and n-now you're trying to g-g-get me naked. I'm v-very happy," the foolish man said with a stupid grin as John ripped open the drenched shirt and saw the blue nipples.

"Shit! I'm calling for an ambulance," he exclaimed and was about to reach for his phone when an ice cold hand clamped down on his wrist.

"I'm fine. J-just cold. I don't want an impersonal blanket. I w-want you to warm me, John."

John's fingers gently removed Sherlock's before lacing the fingers through his own .

"I won't stop until you're burning," he promised, or was it a warning?

Want, John, So

"Sherlock, you can't be here! I've got patients to tend to…"

"And I cleared them from your schedule. It's only for an hour or so," the detective filled in as he hopped onto the examination table and dangled his long legs.

John pulled at his white robe in bewilderment and asked when Sherlock tilted his head, "Why would you do that for?"

"Because I want you. Now." John's mouth became dry and he recalled he had locked the door. Good.

"Okay, and it couldn't wait till tonight?"

Sherlock shook his head so the curls swung and beckoned John closer with a gesture. "I'm not well, doctor. You must cure me."

Crossing his arms, John frowned. "From what, sir?"

A jolt of lust went through Sherlock as John joined in. "I'm so sociopathic and bored at the moment. What do you recommend?"

Sherlock's eyes where fixed on John's crotch and that made him blush and clear his throat to bring back Sherlock's attention.

"Well, the treatment is to interact with another man and do something nice for him," John delivered and could tell there was a bulge growing behind his fly. Sherlock scrambled from the mattress and fell to his knees before John.

"Anything, doctor, I'll do anything to stop being bored," he whispered and John couldn't help but stroke his black hair and reply, "You can call me John. Now take me in your mouth if you're so desperate for it."

Jaw, Shot, Non

A lazy day spent in the flat.

John straddled Sherlock's thighs and held onto the chair as he moved up and down. "Love you so much," he whispered and dove in for a heated kiss which Sherlock reciprocated by opening his mouth and allowing John's tongue to explore his cavern. Both men sighed and were so close to each other they could feel each others heartbeats.

"John, you're so beautiful," Sherlock emitted and trailed kisses from his neck to the shoulder and when his black curls tickled John's jaw, the doctor felt something wet enclose his scar he had gotten when he had been shot.

He arched into Sherlock, helped by steady hands on his lower back, and confessed haltingly as his length gave a throb, "Sherlock, I… You are fantastic, a beautiful being on the inside, too."

Apparently he had said the right thing, for Sherlock suddenly moved his hips in sharp thrusts and John held onto Sherlock who held him, kept him safe.

"John, you know your kink with my voice," a breathless mumble reached his ears and John nodded. "Is it alright if I experiment with other languages?"

Cloud surrounded John's brain, lulling him despite the pressure in his groin and he nodded again.

"Tu m'aimeras toujours, non?" "Yes, yes, yes!" John cried and rocked on Sherlock's lap as his orgasm brought him ecstasy.

There we are. What do you think? Oh, and the French means: You will love me forever, right? I think Lestrade will be next so stay tuned!