Chapter 14

Sherlock sat at the foot of the bed, dressed only in pants and a t-shirt. His legs were crossed in front of him and he was rifling through a small stack of papers. When John opened his eyes he smiled at him brightly. "Good morning." Without waiting for a response he continued: "I've tracked down seven possible victims of Anthony Harris." Noticing John's puzzled look he explained: "The ex-husband. The father of the missing children." Then he held out some papers for John. "These three are the ones most likely to talk. I would like you to interview them. I would probably be able to get them to talk faster, but your way is likely to be more … delicate." He grinned.

"Since when do you care about being delicate?" John smiled, stretching. Then he got on his knees and went to the foot of the bed to kiss Sherlock's cheek, and sat down next to him to thumb through the papers.

"Since I started caring what you think," Sherlock leaned into John, resting his head on his shoulder.

John kissed the corner of his mouth, smiling, before he directed his attention back to the files. "Oh, she looks good," he teased, pointing at a picture of one of the ladies he had to interview.

Sherlock glared at him for a moment, before his face broke into a smile. "Just your type, is she? Well, then you know where to start."

"My type looks slightly different these days," John smirked. "I'll just go and get dressed then." He stood up.

Sherlock grabbed his wrist and pulled him down on the bed. "In a minute," he chuckled before bending down to kiss him.

John laughed and kissed him back, his hands automatically landing in the mess of black curls. "I thought the case was urgent," he said smugly.

"Very urgent," Sherlock murmured against John's lips. "On the other hand, the children are safe at the moment..."

Sherlock's low voice made John's breathing grow uneven. "Won't you be cross that I'm distracting you?"

"Very, very cross," Sherlock moved to John's ear, letting his lips brush against it, before moving down to his neck, kissing and licking playfully. John moaned and slipped his hands under Sherlock's t-shirt to stroke his back.

Sherlock lay down on the bed, pulling John close, biting gently into his shoulder. "See why I can't work with you," he muttered.

John kissed him again. "See why I get worried when you don't let me know if everything is alright with you," he replied, smiling.

"Everything is just fine at the moment..." Sherlock let his hands trail down John's sides, almost not tickling. John huffed and caught his hands, reaching to kiss a sensitive spot on Sherlock's neck. Sherlock giggled, rather unmanly. "Let go," he said trying and failing to pout.

"Not unless that really is what you want," John said, before he sucked further down his neck and clavicle.

"Okay. Then don't let go." Sherlock closed his eyes and tilted his head back.

John smiled and pulled the t-shirt over Sherlock's head before kissing him again.

"You are really good at this distraction thing, you know," Sherlock mumbled, and then ran his tongue over John's lips.

"Perhaps you're just easily distracted," John breathed, lowering his hands to Sherlock's hips.

"Are you calling me easy?" Sherlock pulled a rather convincing frown, and pushed John's hands away.

"Easily distracted," John pointed out. "I've had to wait long enough!"

"Okay then. Distract me," Sherlock rolled onto his back, letting his hands rest in apparent surrender beside his head.

John smirked and took the time to have a good look at Sherlock, his fingertips caressing the tall man's chest, before he bent down and mouthed the front of Sherlock's pants.

Sherlock gasped and failed completely at sounding casual as he said: "Yes, that might work..." He moaned.

John pressed his tongue against the head of Sherlock's cock and nuzzled the fabric above it.

"Oh..." Sherlock muttered. "Wow... that's... " he gave up and just closed his eyes, his mouth slightly open.

"So I take it that you think this is a good idea," John smiled, pulling back to rip Sherlock's pants off. He flung them next to the bed and started kissing Sherlock's shaft.

Sherlock just nodded, his breathing becoming shallow and fast as John took him between his lips and slowly licked the head again. Sherlock's hand's grabbed the sheets and tangled in them, as he groaned softly.

John rubbed his fingertips gently over Sherlock's hip bones and guided his cock a little deeper into his mouth with his tongue.

"Oh, god John..." Sherlock moaned, fighting not to push upwards.

John swirled his tongue around him in faster movements, bobbing his head a little.

Without thinking, Sherlock moved his hand moved to the back of John's head, his fingers tangling in his hair.

John made a small noise. He would have thought it annoying if he had imagined a man grabbing his hair while he was sucking him off - the very idea something he had left far behind him anyway - but somehow it made his own arousal throb even harder.

But at the sound, Sherlock pulled his hand away. "Sorry," he murmured, "It's just ... so..." His voice trailed off again.

John pulled off for a moment and kissed the tip of his cock. "It's fine." Then he took the base lightly in his hand and stroked in the same rhythm as his mouth.

Sherlock gasped and once again tangled his fingers in the sheets, mainly to keep his hand from straying. He could not however stop his hips from bucking upwards a little.

John pulled back and coughed, but it couldn't bring him off his determination to make Sherlock come this way, and once his mouth was in its place again he sucked him hard.

Sherlock writhed beneath him, and moaned. Then he gasped "close" and tried to pull away from John. Yet John didn't let him go and licked him again, wincing for a moment as the strange taste hit him but quickly adjusting.

Sherlock cried out and then fell back, out of breath, his whole body trembling.

John swallowed and dropped soft kisses on Sherlock's lower stomach, stroking his sides.

Sherlock reached down and caressed his cheek. "Sorry," he muttered.

John frowned and looked up, confused. "Sorry?"

"I think I got too eager at one point... Did I hurt you?"

"I'm perfectly fine." John pressed another kiss on Sherlock's stomach. "Only, you know..." He glanced down at his own straining erection.

"Oh, right." Sherlock grinned. "Sorry." He reached down a hand and started stroking gently. "Just give me a minute, to catch my breath."

John whimpered and pushed himself harder against Sherlock's palm.

In response he wrapped his fingers tight around John's cock and started kissing his way down his chest. John moaned and laid a hand on Sherlock's shoulder.

His lips against John's belly, Sherlock murmured: "Just so you don't get your hopes up... I've actually never done this before..."

"Don't care," John groaned. He wanted to say that he hadn't done such a bad job himself with only one experience in pleasing a man like that, after losing a wager with a very horny but fortunately also attractive man in the army, but words just wouldn't form and he sighed as Sherlock pushed him down on his back to continue.

Deciding to ease into this, Sherlock started using his tongue, licking slowly from root to tip, revelling in the taste and texture. It was John's time to tangle his hands in the sheets, moaning helplessly. Sherlock smiled at the response. Then, experimentally, he let his lips engulf the head, his tongue still exploring.

John softly cried out and closed his eyes, even though he actually wanted to watch. Next time, he thought as he let pleasure take over.

Sherlock sucked and tested how far he could take John in. When it became uncomfortable he pulled back, letting his tongue flick against the head.

"Sherlock," John gasped. "Almost, god..." He squirmed as he tried to keep his hips from bucking up.

Sherlock wrapped his hand around the root, squeezing a little. Then he changed the angle of his head and tried again. Much better. He sucked a little harder and started moving up and down.

"Fuck," John whispered, his head thrown back as he was coming.

Sherlock almost pulled back in surprise, but stopped himself. He wondered at the taste and texture for a couple of seconds before swallowing.

"You didn't have to," John panted, slowly opening his eyes again and propping himself up on his elbows to look down at Sherlock, his expression a mix of fondness and worry.

"I wanted to," Sherlock smiled up at him, still somewhat out of breath. "It felt... " he thought for a moment, "... good."

"Come here," John said, kissing Sherlock as soon as he could reach for him.

Sherlock smiled and snuggled against John. "That was a very good distraction."

John hummed and smiled, brushing an errant curl from Sherlock's forehead. "We should probably get up and get to work."

Sherlock sighed. "Yes, we should." He wrapped his arms around John. "In a minute..."

John happily closed his eyes. Three hours later, he was startled awake as Sherlock woke up with a jolt.

"Bugger!" Sherlock flew out of bed, frantically searching for his clothes. "How the hell...?" He tore at his hair and then stared for a long moment at John. "Shit," he mumbled.

John rolled on to his back. "What?" He hadn't looked at the clock yet.

Sherlock picked up John's shirt and tossed it at his head.

"I was supposed to catch Harris as he left for work. He'll be at the shop now... God damn it." He stabbed his arms into the sleeves of his shirt, a frantic look in his eyes. "I knew this would happen if I..." he cut himself off and looked at John, mortified.

"You regret it," John said quietly, turning his eyes down to his shirt.

Sherlock stood frozen for a moment. Then he slumped down on the bed, next to John. "No, I don't... I just..." He shook his head. "I let myself get distracted..."

"You fell asleep, Sherlock. It's only human. The world's still turning." He looked up at him with a hurt expression.

Sherlock bit his lip, and looked a John for a long moment. "I know... I'm sorry. It's not your fault..." He reached out a hand and gently stroked John's cheek. "I just can't..." Then he got to his feet and turned away, slowly buttoning his shirt.

John sighed and swallowed. He didn't have the energy to convince Sherlock that he bloody well could now. Without a word he got dressed and went to make tea.

Sherlock disappeared to the bathroom and when he got out he seemed calm but distant. As he put on his coat he said: "I'll probably be gone for most of the day. Keep me updated on your interviews, okay?"

John nodded. "Yeah. I'll be gone in a minute myself, just finishing my tea and a sandwich. Good luck." He hadn't expected a kiss before Sherlock left, but it still hurt that he was right.

Sherlock hesitated a moment in the door, then he turned and left.