"I've nearly packed everything, just give me two minutes!" John called; Sherlock's mother was waiting down the stairs.

It was three months after Sherlock and John's first date, and they had come to an agreement with Sherlock's mother shortly after. Every second weekend she arrived and took Innes for the weekend, leaving Sherlock and John on their own. This provided a little bit of a rest bite for Sherlock and John from parenting, and also allowed her to indulge and shower Innes with attention and love.

These brief periods in which Sherlock and John were relieved from looking after Innes became greatly anticipated by the couple; it was a time when they could just be themselves, without having to think or worry about anything else. By this time, Lestrade, Molly and Mycroft all knew that the two of them were now in a relationship.

John passed the sleeping Innes across to Sherlock's mother; she was already laden with a changing bag filled with clothes and nappies for the weekend.

"Alright boys, I'll have Innes back on Sunday evening, you can give me a ring if you want to check on him." She said, John nodded.

Once she had gone, John sat himself down on the sofa rather heavily.

"So... what do you want to do tonight?" Sherlock asked.

"Whatever you want." John answered as Sherlock sat down beside him.

"Mother looked so excited to have him this weekend," Sherlock noted, "It's probably because we told her Innes had sat up on his own, she'll want to see it for herself." John was smiling at the memory... For the past couple of weeks, Innes had been developing extremely well; he had begun to push himself up from the floor using his arms, he was babbling and smiling a lot, and on the previous Tuesday he had sat up for himself for the first time. John had let his head drop onto Sherlock's shoulder, he was enjoying the moment of relaxation, so close to the man who meant so much to him.

Very suddenly, a thought overwhelmed John; his heart began pounding very quickly and his mouth went dry. For the past couple of weeks there had been a thought burgeoning inside him, one that he had relentlessly beaten down- not wishing to be too forwards- but he thought now might be the time to act upon it.

"Sherlock..." He started quietly, he had lifted his head off of Sherlock's shoulder; he took a deep breath and then plunged: "Sherlock, I love you." The pause lasted only for a moment, but it could have been a lifetime before Sherlock jerked up from lounging back in the sofa to look at John directly in the face.

"I love you too." Sherlock replied, his low voice trembling as though in disbelief. "I really love you..."

Then they were kissing, first very softly- tenderly and loving, one of Sherlock's hands caressing John's face and eventually cupping his chin. The other hand slid round John's back, firmly holding onto him; John's hands, too, had rested on Sherlock's shoulder and in his curly hair. It wasn't the most comfortable position, but neither of them noticed this as their kiss deepened. Shivers were chasing up and down John's spine as Sherlock's tongue brushed along John's teeth; the hand that was on John's back was gently guiding him back so he was almost lying on the sofa, his head resting on the arm. Sherlock drew back slightly, his breathing heavy and he looked down at John; his eyes were full of a strange glitter.

"Are you alright?" He asked. John was so breathless that he couldn't speak, he could feel his heart pounding inside of him; all he wanted was Sherlock – all he needed was this embrace. He tried to stretch up to kiss Sherlock again, but could only brush his lips because of the position he was in.

"Of course!" John panted, Sherlock was smiling now – he was teasing John by being just a little too far out of reach. John wrapped his hands around Sherlock's back, he could feel Sherlock's shoulder blades under his grip – and using all the force he had he pulled him in towards himself.

It had been too long in coming, John finally saying those words – admitting how he truly felt about Sherlock; how he cared for him, wanted him, needed him. But now the time had arrived, here they were – locked with John pulling Sherlock on top of him; and he didn't ever want to let him go.

"That's cheating." Sherlock purred, his lips centimetres away from John's. "Your army training gives you extra strength."

"Well it serves you right for teasing me," John reprimanded, trying to sound serious. Sherlock relented his playful pulling away and pressed against him, meeting his lips once more. This time, however, it was deep, lustful and passionate; John pulled Sherlock close to him, he could feel Sherlock's breath, hot on his face.

The kiss was oblivion – it was as though ecstasy was filling both of their veins, pumping through them and spurring them onwards. John couldn't tell how long the kiss had been going on before he felt something; Sherlock was straddling him over his thighs and as they kissed, John could feel something pushing down on his midriff. It was a second before John realised exactly what part of Sherlock's anatomy it was that was pressing into him; and when it did, he pulled away gently from Sherlock.

"Sherlock, have you-" Sherlock had turned bright red and he pulled himself upright so he was sitting near the region of John's thighs.

"Oh sorry," He looked rather embarrassed, attempting to reposition himself. "I knew I shouldn't have worn such tight trousers!" He muttered in annoyance with himself, John couldn't help but stare at the bulge in Sherlock's trousers which was quite clearly an erection.

"No, I'm glad you wore them – looks even better from where I'm sitting!" John replied unabashed; Sherlock's face went such a deep crimson that John had been sure wasn't possible of his usually pale hues. Sherlock seemed temporarily bereft of speech, all the while he was looking at John.

"Are you sure it doesn't make you feel uncomfort- aahh…" Sherlock had begun to ask, but John had jumped in before he could finish – reaching his hand up and padding it against the bulge in his trousers. Sherlock let a deep breath out quickly. "Do that again…" He whispered gently and John continued to stroke Sherlock's erection through the material of Sherlock's trousers. Sherlock didn't appear able to decide whether he wanted to breath in or breath out, so instead he made a kind of short, stuttering gasp. With his free hand, John reached up to grab Sherlock's shirt to try and pull him into kiss him again. Once Sherlock was close enough to kiss, however, he changed tactics – sliding his hand down the waistband of Sherlock's trousers so he could make closer contact.

"Wait, wait-" Sherlock halted him, "Let's not do this here…" He took hold of John's free hand and moved to pull him upright. "Come on, we can go to my bedroom." John followed him obligingly.

Sherlock's hand was vibrating, John wasn't sure whether it was through nervousness or excitement, but he could feel Sherlock's fingers trembling within his own as he followed him up the stairs. "John, I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable…" Sherlock warned, pushing open the door of the bedroom to reveal his pristine bedroom. "So if I do, tell me, won't you?" But John was already closing the door behind him – almost disregarding Sherlock's comment. He knew that this was not wrong; he knew that both of them were comfortable. He was pulling Sherlock towards him – despite the height difference – they were easily matched, John was kissing Sherlock. He hadn't wanted to break apart downstairs, but it had seemed more natural and probably a more comfortable set up to be in one of their bedrooms. Sherlock's arms were wrapped around John, his hips pressing into him. The presence of Sherlock's erection was still notable; and as John's heart pounded in his chest, he slipped his hand down the waistband of Sherlock's trousers – fumbling for a second to get his hand down the elastic of Sherlock's boxers – until finally he was able to touch Sherlock's erect penis. Sherlock gasped as John's cold fingers made contact; John could feel Sherlock's pulse throbbing as he moved his hand rather awkwardly through the fabric of his clothes. Sherlock wrapped himself around John, he was kissing John's neck; making the hairs on John's neck stand on end. John began fumbling with his other hand at Sherlock's trouser button; he wanted to make access easier so he could be more active in his movement. Sherlock, however, was pulling John towards the bed – also helping him with his trouser button. John toppled over onto the bed and stared up into Sherlock's face; Sherlock was breathless, his eyes sparkling but filled with an innocent love.

"I love you." Sherlock whispered softly, still standing at the edge of the bed.

"I love you too." John replied. Sherlock bent slightly and ran his hand along the inside of John's thigh; again sending shivers chasing up and down John's spine. "Take your trousers off." John startled himself with the firmness of his voice, but Sherlock obeyed unhesitatingly undoing the last bit of a zip and removing his trousers, leaving them on a pile on the floor. His legs were pale and lean to fit the rest of his form, but to John they looked absolutely beautiful. To John Sherlock was the most stunning person, everything about him was lithe and graceful, he just exuded agility. John, also, was undoing the button of his own jeans aware that Sherlock's touch had ignited a spark within himself and he could feel himself beginning to strain in the fabric of his jeans. Sherlock helped, pulling one of the legs of John's jeans off, assisting in removing them and in so doing revealing a pair of bright red boxer shorts. The blush on Sherlock's face had retracted back into his pale colour as he paused for a second and then moved down over John's body, holding himself from falling on top of John by placing hands either side of John's shoulders. They kissed, so deeply that twice their teeth made contact, but that didn't put either of them off. As they kissed, Sherlock pressed his hips down into John, making ever so slight grinding motions. The material of both of their boxers caused even more friction – John's heart seemed to be doing backflips, jumping and restarting. Sherlock's hands were sliding underneath John's t-shirt, caressing his skin tenderly. John's hand was reaching down in between their hips – his abdomen felt tight from the on-going movement. He wasn't sure whether Sherlock was teasing him in an effort to make him more aroused – whether intentional or not, it was working. John wrapped his hand around the shaft of Sherlock's penis and began to slide it surely and steadily up and down. Sherlock's back arched as he moaned in utter pleasure, his elbows beginning to tremble, struggling to hold him up from falling onto John. With his other hand, John guided Sherlock over so he was lying on his back, with John over him; he removed Sherlock's boxers and unbuttoned his shirt to strip him completely naked. Sherlock seemed unable to not rock his hips in the rhythm that John was moving, his thrusts becoming deeper and deeper; his breathing was ragged and he had his eyes closed, one hand curled into the bed sheets and his other holding onto John's neck. John was also moving his hips in a kind of similar manner, although he was pressing into Sherlock's leg.

"Is that alright?" John asked, wanting to make sure Sherlock wasn't uncomfortable.

"Oh god, yes!" Sherlock moaned, breathing out slightly erratically.

"Give me a moment." John paused, stripping his t-shirt off from over his head and pulling his boxers down. Despite his own erection being slightly uncomfortable as it was not being attended to, he wanted to finish Sherlock first and make him happy. He wanted to prove his love – and actually it was making him feel good, just as good as he hoped Sherlock felt. He bent down, half kneeling over the edge of the bed and took as much of Sherlock's cock into his mouth and wrapped one of his hands around the base, so he could make complete movements. With his other hand he wrapped his fingers around his own penis so he could release some of his own tension and passion.

"Nnngg – uuuh…" Sherlock moaned, "Oh god John!" Sherlock had buried his hand within John's hair as John began to move up and down. The deeper that John got, the more of a reaction came from Sherlock; his ragged breathing, heaving chest, the way his back was arching and fingers were curling into the sheets and his eyes were closed; his face in an ecstatic expression: "Oh – uh, uuh – John! John! I'm – I'm…" Sherlock's voice rose to a high pitch, holding onto the hair on the top of John's hair. "John – I'm gonna, I can't hold on any longer!" Sherlock was trying to warn John that he was going to cum, but John didn't care – he was going to keep going, his tongue running gently over the head of Sherlock's penis. This seemed to be the last thing that Sherlock could help with – he let out an ecstasied moan and finally came. "Uh – oh god, oh god – John!" Sherlock panted; he had collapsed limply back onto his bed for a few seconds. John had a moment where he had to consciously focus on swallowing before he could continue to finish himself off.

"Come here!" Sherlock had managed to regain some of his composure and he pulled John up onto the bed. "Let me…" He said, kneeling down at the edge of the bed, taking the place where John had been previously. There was a moment where their eyes locked, and then Sherlock took John full in the mouth. It was a peculiarly wonderful sensation; the warmth and wetness of Sherlock's mouth made John sigh – this was heavenly. As Sherlock began to move up and down, a warm tingling sensation spread throughout his body and he could not prevent himself from gasping aloud. He had to consciously stop himself from thrusting which was his natural instinct; a warm and gentle pressure was building in his abdomen – he wasn't going to last as long as Sherlock, but he had been jerking himself off as well as sucking Sherlock. Sherlock, who had been bobbing up and down with surprising rapidity, had just changed tact. His hands were caressing up John's torso, stroking his chest and slowly gliding his hands down to his thighs and then back up again – along with this, he had slowed down the movement of his head, sucking slowly and deliberately and brushing his tongue the length of John's cock. John could hardly cope with this deliberate slowing down; his entire body – especially his limbs – were trembling so violently in anticipation that the bed was shaking.

"Sher-lock!" John croaked, his voice was trembling as much as the rest of his body, but John had no time to give Sherlock extra warning – the pressure had reached a peak, he felt like his heart might be about to explode: and he ejaculated…

Bright white lights burst in front of John's eyes; his heart was fluttering inside his chest and an overwhelming feeling of love and fulfilment.

"Oh fuck – I love you." John panted, reaching out his hand to pull Sherlock up onto the bed beside him, he wanted skin on skin contact no, he wanted Sherlock near to him.

"Are you alright?" Sherlock asked, very slowly and quietly, entangling himself around John's naked form.

"My god yes, Sherlock!" John replied, burying his face into Sherlock's neck. All the hairs on the back of Sherlock's neck and a tingling shiver made everything stand on end, John's hot breath was warm and incredibly sensuous on Sherlock's skin. "I love you, I love you so much!" He nuzzled closer into Sherlock's soft skin, stroking the area over Sherlock's rubs; his skin was soft, yet there was something very masculine in the feel of his skin.

"I love you too John." Sherlock answered, his voice very low and very tender. "More than you can imagine, and more than I can ever prove to you…" He lifted his head from laying on the pillow so that he could kiss John gently. There was a silence as John settled, resting his head upon Sherlock's chest – hearing his heart beating and feeling it rising and falling; for a moment John wondered whether Sherlock had fallen asleep. "Oh I am glad my mother is looking after Innes tonight…" Sherlock muttered finally.

"How?" John asked, his voice very relaxed, almost drowsy.

"Can you imagine trying to do that whilst looking after Innes?" Sherlock chuckled slightly, raising his head to look down at John with a lopsided grin on his face. "We'd not have even gotten up the stairs."

"Yeah…" John agreed. "Maybe when he's a bit older it won't be such of an issue."

"We've got a little bit of waiting to do before he's old enough for us to move him into his own room." Sherlock said honestly.

"True… so in the meantime, we better make use of the times when your mother looks after him!" John pushed himself up so he was leaning on one arm, far enough up to kiss Sherlock much more easily.

"We shall have to." Sherlock nodded, a smile flitting across his lips and his eyes glittering all over again.

"Now?" John suggested, involuntarily licking his lips.

"Please…"

A/N: This story has finally come to an end, I'd love to hear what you thought about it! But it is not completely over... I have started a sequel called "The Anatomy of Kind", please feel free to check it out! I hope you've enjoyed reading! :)