Author's warning: This chapter gets really smutty, and I have no idea why, but it just does. So, just be ready for that...
Three: Damn You…
She just sat there and stared as the brush was put on the table that John had cleared off a few days ago. It was getting cluttered again, but Sherlock tried to keep it clean, for John's sake. And now that Aveen is here, he has to try harder to not spread things everywhere, and for him, that's actually pretty difficult.
John walked out of the bathroom with damp hair and he was dressed, but Sherlock wasn't, still. He grabbed the rest of his coffee and it was gone, half of it in John and the rest down the drain. Sherlock stood as John wandered to the door, going to just leave, he was so bored.
Sherlock followed John down the stairs and tucked in his flannel as he pushed him against the door lightly. John smiled up at him and his lips landed softly on John's. No words were exchanged with this, not a one. They just did this randomly, and both silently agreed to kissing.
But John ruined that when they broke and he said, "I have to go, Sherlock." Sherlock rolled his eyes and gave him one last quick kiss and John was out the door. But when Sherlock whirled around, Aveen was standing at the top of the stairs, tilting her head in confusion.
"What are you staring at?" Sherlock grumbled as his cheeks were a light pink when he passed her. She just spun around on her heels to stare at Sherlock in utter confusion, "State your thoughts, I can't read them, Aveen."
He sat in his chair and she sat in John's. "You are both boys, right?" she asked. Sherlock nodded, "But, then why…" she didn't even have to finish it. Ugh, she was so innocent.
"Homosexuality," he said simply. When she didn't understand, he started explaining everything. well, everything but the sex… but once he was done, "Do you understand now?"
She nodded, "But how can he like you and not other boys?" she asked.
"Even I am confused at that one," he shook his head and she giggled. "Well, I'm going to go get dressed. I'll be right back," he patted her on the head and went off to his room to find something suitable instead of PJs.
He came back out and she was staring hard at something on the desk. John's computer. Sherlock chuckled and plucked it from the table, "Wanna see some more?" he asked, talking of the cases he'd shown her before.
She nodded furiously and he sat down in his chair while he entered John's predictable password and she settled in his lap. Somehow, he liked it when she was around. He didn't usually like children, then again, she was an unusual child.
He showed her the oldest ones of his, the ones he did before he met John, and got so many different reactions, it confused him, yet he liked that she was interested. He was thinking about actually teaching her some of the science/math behind it, but she probably wouldn't understand it. Hell, John barely understood it, and Sherlock explained it almost every time.
Time passed and she ate lunch while Sherlock rejected it and she was like John, threatening to shove it down his throat if he didn't eat something. She was a very violent seven year old, but that probably came from her mother.
He ate a sandwich and that was it. But she seemed content with that, so she ate happily as he choked down food. He hated eating, it slowed him down and he just didn't like having things in his mouth, unless it was John.
The subject changed to something else for a brief while, "So, when's your birthday?" he asked.
She swallowed the last bite of her sandwich, "July 15th, why?" she gulped down her milk, giving herself a brain freeze momentarily. She shook it off.
Sherlock shrugged his shoulders, "Just wondering." She nodded as she slipped from the kitchen chair and Sherlock rushed to the computer before she had a chance to touch it. She just stood there, waiting for him to sit down so she could sit in his lap. And that she did. He didn't protest.
Whilst cases were being looked at once more, he thought about maybe going with John and Aveen to help with shopping, or how John was really taking the news about Mary. Or how he was going to get Aveen out of the flat and to a good family, one who will actually pay her attention instead of leaving her alone all the time. His mind was everywhere but the present, it seemed.
He hated the thought that she was going to leave, but she couldn't stay here. Well, she could, but what child in their right mind would want to stay here? They'd be gone half the time, either that or.. never mind. But still, they'd be occupied with themselves or a case and probably wouldn't even pay her any mind.
Well, John would, he cares. But Sherlock wouldn't pay attention at all. He'd probably walk right past her, on a case, and ignore her as he does everyone else. That would be being a bad parent and Sherlock hates bad parents. It's why he should never be one.
Although, so far, he's been pretty good about taking care of her. Even though, John's the one that cares the most; he cares too much, that's the problem with sentiment. It makes you care way too much more than you should.
Sherlock couldn't really say much, though. He loves John, though he hates feelings, and John's making Sherlock soft again. And he hasn't turned Mary in, because of sentiment. This is going to end badly, but did Sherlock care? Not really. He cared for John and Mary and that was about it.
Sherlock noticed that she was still staring at him as they sat in the chair and Sherlock had finally finished showing her every case he's ever been on and ever solved. He flipped on the telly. He was extremely bored now. He still didn't know what to say about the case. Did he solve it? Or was it open still? He didn't want to tell about Mary, but he didn't want to admit defeat.
Aveen kept staring as he pretended to watch TV, but was really thinking about the case. The answer, and how much that answer may jeopardize him and/or John.
John was waiting to get home and get Aveen out of the flat and possibly drag Sherlock along to think about something besides Vamps and the case. And as the clock loved him at that moment he locked the door to his office and scuttled out, wanting to be away from the awkward patients today.
He also wanted to see Sherlock, but what person could resist the temptation who called himself Sherlock? John had done well so far, and he hopes he can sustain the control over his teenish hormones before he did something that would make Sherlock regret or possibly him. He shuddered at the thought of having a Holmes boy hate you.
But he couldn't help it. Every time he so much as looked at the man or heard his voice, he wants more. Sherlock is attractive in every way and everyone can see it, even the men who weren't interested. John could see all the jealous women when they walked down the sidewalk and all the men stared at something so weird. John loved people's faces, no matter who it was.
He grabbed a cab and recited his address firmly as he twitched in his seat. Why was he so excited to see Sherlock? What was so different today that wasn't there the day before? Oh… well, that explains a lot. But, John can't just quit his job because he can't see Sherlock all the time like he wants to.
There was also a certain part of him that wanted to see Sherlock when he was shopping, too. As he stepped out of the cab and paid, he wondered if Sherlock would be embarrassed to be with John and a child, or if he would just shrug it off as he does everything else and let people think whatever the fuck they wished.
John liked that about Sherlock. He didn't give a shit if you thought he was a heartless bastard, he only cared about himself and the selected and very lucky few that he kept close. Otherwise, you could kiss his shoes.
Of course, John thought Sherlock had been completely heartless when they first met as well, so he couldn't judge people with that one. No, he was just reserved or certain people. John trudged up the stairs, "Oh, you're dressed. Good," he commented on Sherlock who had been staring at the TV while Aveen was glancing from the screen to Sherlock.
Sherlock flopped his head back on the chair and stared at his now upside down Watson, "Why is that good?" Aveen shifted off of Sherlock and stood in the middle of the chairs.
"Because I'm taking Aveen shopping and you're coming with," he demanded as he threw Holmes' scattered shoes at him. Aveen rushed to pull her sandals on and was skipping with joy when John and her descended the stairs.
Sherlock grumbled as John opened the door and let the (apparently) two children out to the sidewalk. But Sherlock perked up a little as John ruffled Aveen's raven hair and Sherlock stopped a cab. John said an address he didn't think he'd ever say again anytime soon, but this was different as Aveen scrambled in before Sherlock got the chance to.
He briefly glared at her for stealing his spot beside John, but it faded as he slammed the door to the cab shut. John stared at Sherlock's attire and wondered why he liked that purple shirt so much. He even nicknamed it 'The Purple Shirt of Sex'. In his head, of course…
John wondered if Sherlock would say anything if he told him about that stupid shirt. John looked away before Sherlock could stare back and John distracted himself with the flying streets he recognized so well he could probably walk his way to anywhere.
Sherlock stared intently at John's jeans, and how they cradled his hips the way Sherlock wanted to. Aveen noticed the way they basically were drooling over each other and smiled mischievously at the fact that she separated them from cuddling. Then she saw the yearning in Sherlock's eyes and she sat in Sherlock's lap, knowing he would put her off to the side and grab John's hand.
Which he did, knowing she knew. He smiled at that as John jumped, not noticing the almost telepathic looks the detective and the child had exchanged.
Aveen didn't mind being on the outside, she just wanted to be with John and Sherlock because they cared an awful lot more than her own mother ever even bothered showing. And, because Sherlock had explained a lot earlier when she was confused. Sherlock might as well have admitted he was head over heels for John right then and there.
Aveen started humming again as John cuddled into Sherlock's chest, loving the silk of the shirt under his cheek and the heartbeat he could hear pounding; he loved that he could still do that to Sherlock. He could do it to Mary as well, but not so easily. He shook himself from his thoughts of Mary as he sat up and settled for leaning on Sherlock's shoulder.
Aveen smiled at her work and Sherlock gave her a sideways glance and the smallest of twitches were at the corners of his mouth. He liked Aveen, and he hoped she could stay. They'd make it work somehow, wouldn't they? Although, Lestrade is going to insist she be put into foster care. Damn…
They stopped in front of John's favorite place for clothes that his mum used to take him, and he goes every once in a while. They had clothes for everyone, and they were actually a little cheaper than the others. Aveen hopped out, skipping to the sidewalk as Sherlock and John popped out after her.
John took her hand, so she didn't get lost in the crowd of people and Sherlock simply kept her close, keeping John just as close. He didn't like these kinds of places, but he would bear it for John's sake and Aveen's…
They were finally finished with their crusade of boringness, and Sherlock gladly flagged down a cab in the twilight as Aveen giggled at something John whispered to her. Sherlock didn't care to figure out what it was, he simply climbed in and recited the same boring address and John and Aveen climbed in afterwards.
Sherlock was still pouting at what the woman at the counter had said about John and Sherlock. "You three are so cute as a family! And she's so lucky to have two daddies that love her so much!" Bitch, it's none of your business what goes on at home. (overreacting)…
"Oh, come on, Sherlock. She was just complimenting us. It's not like she was intruding on our personal lives," he bumped Sherlock 's shoulder with his own as bags settled on the floor and Aveen giggled at Sherlock's face. It was priceless, him looking like a child who couldn't have the candy they begged for.
He was pouting and blushing at the same time and he buried his face in John's chest as John just laughed. Aveen leaned into John as well, she was comfortable against John. Sherlock glared at Aveen through John's flannel for stealing some of John to cuddle with and she grinned back at him.
She knew full well what she had done, and Sherlock knew she knew. Aveen was a very clever little person. She reminded Sherlock of himself at that age. It was funny to think of him being only to someone's hip at one point. But if Sherlock had had a female version of himself at that age, it'd probably have been Aveen.
Sherlock both liked and despised that she had his personality. But he got over it as his head settled on John's shoulder and John's arm went around both of their shoulders as she leaned into his abdomen. She was so short, and so cute, John couldn't help but love kids. He worked with them a lot in the hospital, mostly because he was so patient, and everyone knew he loved them.
It was the reason he got along with Aveen from the first time he spoke to her. The cab stopped in front of 221B and John grabbed all that he could and Aveen took the rest as Sherlock carried nothing but jealousy of Aveen. He was jealous of a child? Yes, the very grown man was jealous of the child that only stood at his hips and was literally half his size… idiot.
John chuckled at what he could see on Sherlock's face as the taller opened the door for John and Aveen. They stomped up the stairs and John plopped everything down on the couch as Aveen dug through it for something else to wear besides what she has been for the past two days. She was eager to get out of it, "Can I use the shower?" she asked as she brought out PJs.
John and Sherlock nodded from their kitchen chairs as she ran to the bathroom, eager to wash herself. She also had grabbed the shampoo and soap they had gotten her, seeing as it would be awkward to let her use theirs.
They heard the water running when Sherlock said suddenly, "Lestrade is going to make us put her in foster care."
"I know," John sighed. "She probably won't go," he admitted on her behalf. "It's almost as if she wants us to be her parents instead of going home," he pointed out as Sherlock nodded slowly. "Maybe we should just let her," John then suggested.
"John, we can't. We have cases and you have a job. We can't care for her with our busy schedule," he pointed out to John.
"I know, but what are we doing right now?" John raised an eyebrow slightly as he smirked.
"True," he sighed. "It's just, I feel as though we'd be only a little better than her own mum."
"Oh, Sherlock," John started and Sherlock stared, "We are definitely better than her mother," he stated. Sherlock shrugged. Why was John so passionate about keeping her?
"I don't usually like children, but she's not the usual child, is she?" Sherlock asked the random rhetorical question. He didn't even notice he had.
But John answered, "She is quite different. She reminds me of you a little. Mycroft tells me you wanted to be a pirate," he chuckled, remembering that quote. My brother has the mind of a scientist or a philosopher, yet he elects to be a detective. Now what might we deduce about his heart? I Don't know… Neither do I, but initially he wanted to be a pirate.
"Shut up," Sherlock snarled. "Mycroft needs to keep his mouth shut," he pouted.
"I don't know, I think it's cute," John admitted as the water upstairs was turned off. Aveen walked down the stairs a few seconds later with a brush in hand, the towel draped over her shoulders as she brushed out her dark black hair that was now dripping wet and reached her waist.
Sherlock looked to her as her foot grazed the box with the plant in it but nothing happened as she glided past it and sat in John's lap as he plucked the brush from her hand and finished what she started, "I never can completely get the back," she admitted.
Sherlock again became jealous of her proximity to John and just got up from the kitchen chair and flopped down in his sitting chair, ignoring the girl in the cupcake PJs. John rolled his eyes as he set the brush on the table, "Dinner, then bed, huh?" he asked as he looked to Aveen's smile and she nodded. It was close to nine.
John pulled something together to make chicken and dumplings and as Aveen and John munched, Sherlock emerged, stealing some of John's chicken, then simply sliding past them to his room. he finished the chicken as he flopped down on the bed and stared at his clock.
It was closer to ten as it became completely dark outside. Sherlock had heard John tuck in Aveen after they brushed their teeth, as he shuffled to Sherlock's bedroom, probably already in his… okay, so he was still in his clothes for the day. But that was fixed when he stripped them down to his pants, and Sherlock did the same as they climbed under the covers.
"All these distractions are making the case harder to solve," Sherlock complained.
"Shut up, Sherlock," John playfully said as he looked to the closed door one last time before snuggling into Sherlock's chest. Finally, Sherlock wasn't so jealous of Aveen. Sherlock knew John loved him, but he was an idiot when it came to keeping belief in that, and not getting jealous
Sherlock ran his fingers through John's slightly longer hair and he found a few silver pieces and smiled at them. John would hate to know he had grey hairs, but Sherlock somehow thought it was cute. Besides, he only found two, so it wasn't like he was going completely gray anytime soon.
But for some reason Sherlock and John couldn't sleep. "Are you the least bit tired?" the detective asked the restless doctor.
"Not the least bit," he admitted. He smiled up at Sherlock. Were they thinking the same thing? If so, John was definitely nervous, but Sherlock seemed to be perfectly content with whatever could happen. Mostly because he knew a little more on this, but John knew a lot about women, some of it could work, he guessed.
Sherlock traced John's shoulders when his fingers caught the scar John had there. It was so small, yet so big. The hole in his shoulder was just a little bigger than a bullet and it was basically a dent in John's perfect skin. Sherlock frowned at this.
He brought John closer when he felt the back, where the bullet had torn out of his skin, and it was aligned almost perfectly with the dent in the front. It felt a little like cracked glass that was ready to break, but it was such a small spread. Whoever stitched it, did a damn good job.
John hated when people paid attention to his scar. There was even one girl who just left, she couldn't stand to look at it. But when Sherlock looked into those worried blue eyes, he smiled. He just ran his fingers over it again and they continued down John's back.
His hand slipped under John's pants as he jumped and glared at Sherlock, who only smirked as he cupped John's buttocks on his hand. The other distracted itself with John's hair and the combination of sexual contact and sweet touches was weird, but it felt good for some reason.
John's fingers traced Sherlock's face starting with those cheekbones, dear God, they were so obvious yet so soft. And his fingers trickled over Sherlock's lips and the detective couldn't help it when his tongue flicked out and caught one of John's digits with it. John smiled, Sherlock was definitely weird.
They got closer as John gave up and kissed Sherlock, and once this was done, Sherlock had to keep kissing down to his neck, and he left a love mark on John's collar bone before coming back to his lips, playing with them in between his teeth. Just because Sherlock hasn't had sex, doesn't mean that mouth isn't talented.
John's hands were desperately searching for something to do, so he simply grabbed Sherlock's arse and brought their groins closer when Sherlock jumped. Both of them moaned through the heavy breathing that was now stitched into their breath and they couldn't steady it, nor their heartbeats.
Their veins jumped through their skin as Sherlock nibbled on John's ear and pushed him into the sheets, covering John with himself. His hair draped over John's neck and chest as the kisses drifted down, and didn't stop until he reached the band of John's pants.
He nipped at the skin above, and stared John in the eyes, and the gaze never faltered as Sherlock's fingers slipped under the top. It was as if John was telling him to stop and he was defying him, he didn't stop staring into the soldier's blue eyes with his pupils blown wide and his heart racing a mile a minute.
Sherlock's bluish grey eyes were captivating as John couldn't look away and his pants were at his knees now. Sherlock teased John's thighs with kisses and licks, and he kissed everywhere but John's member that was now magnificently standing above Sherlock's curls.
He smiled as he nipped at John's abdomen and John's trimmed and very blond pubes. It was adorable when he moaned as Sherlock hit a sensitive spot. He had never been bit there, and it felt so good.
Sherlock decided to torture John by ghosting his lips over his shaft, down one side and up the other side, pressing a soft kiss on his head. John was tired of being tortured and he moved to where Sherlock was under him in the same way John had been under him, his pants sliding off completely and forgotten.
He licked from Sherlock's neck to his nipple where he teased it in between his teeth (the women go crazy over it, and apparently Sherlock as well), and moved even further down, leaving a love mark on Sherlock's hip and licking lightly. He stripped Sherlock's pants, teasing as they were gone and he kissed Sherlock's thigh and left another love mark.
But he wasn't such a tease as he started on Sherlock's shaft that was surrounded by his trimmed but still wavy pubes. And when he licked down once and back up again, Sherlock gasped and grabbed at John's hair. He pulled lightly on the short hair when John's teeth played with his head until he was dripping precum.
John moaned, knowing it would vibrate from him onto Sherlock as he took half of him in his mouth. His tongue teased as his teeth scaled the shaft. Sherlock was really sensitive there, seeing as he didn't really touch himself as much as the average male. So this, this was heaven.
He moaned loud and John heard his name garbled in there somewhere. He loved hearing his name from Sherlock's lips, it was a major turn on, especially when neither could really breathe. Sherlock felt really tight in his stomach, "John, I'm gonna…" he tried to pull John off, but he didn't move as he swallowed all that Sherlock could give, and Sherlock's vision was shot for a moment as his eyes were squeezed shut.
Sherlock was shaking from pleasure as John moved back up to his lips, where he played with them in between his own. Sherlock recovered and his vision repaired from being blurred as the sweat rolled from his skin and John played with him some more.
John's fingers were skilled as he worked Sherlock to getting aroused, again… but Sherlock wouldn't have this. He jerked John's head back and attacked his throat with kisses and love bites as his hands drifted to John's member, full and warm and now in Sherlock's hand.
When Sherlock started slowly pumping, John's hips lurched from the covers as his back arched and Sherlock's other hand held him down to the covers. His hands left John completely as he realized he didn't have lube… he never needed any before, and it was obvious that John's was in his room, where Aveen was in a deep sleep, (hopefully not hearing any of this).
Damn. John realized Sherlock's dilemma, and grabbed Sherlock's wrist and plunged Sherlock's digits into his mouth. He was already practically drooling. Sherlock's fingers were soaked when he pulled them out again. This better work.
They drifted down to John's entrance where Sherlock's fingers teased the outside. John moaned when he slipped one finger in, slowly, so he didn't hurt the doctor under him. He was throbbing again as he heard the doctors scream in pleasure when a second finger was inserted and brushed over John's sweet spot.
He whimpered when Sherlock's fingers left him completely and Sherlock was nervous as he slid slowly into John, his fingers using the last of John's saliva to try to moisten himself. He was surprised that his length fit, all the way to the hilt, and John sighed, which faded into a moan.
"Sherlock…" it was distinct as the rest was meshed into what Sherlock took as a demand to keep going. He pulled out slowly, and just a little as he slid slowly back in, making sure he didn't hurt his lover. John's thighs latched onto Sherlock's hips as the slow rocking motion never faltered and never became faster. Sherlock resisted such temptations, but it was difficult. John wasn't helping, though, moaning like that, and making Sherlock moan as well. Sherlock shivered as he tried to keep from just pounding into him.
John moaned out commands and sometimes yelped in pleasure when Sherlock brushed ever so slightly over that one spot. John's name was somewhere in there as Sherlock's moans mirrored John's and he was so close, for the second time. Damn…
Sherlock decided he would not be alone this time as his hand grabbed John's member, squeezing as his grip faltered into touches and John joined Sherlock in a euphorically painful climax, and they came together. Sherlock, buried into John and John in Sherlock's hand, and on part of his chest.
Furtive kisses were placed on John's lips as Sherlock collapsed beside his lover. John moaned as he rolled over into Sherlock, panting into his chest and still trying to get used to not having that wonderful feeling of Sherlock inside him. He didn't want it to stop, but it had.
But John saw the mess they had made, "Shower?" he suggested, "If you can keep from making too much noise," he teased. The noises they had both made were a little embarrassing, but this was also new to both of them and somehow, it was so much better than anything they've ever done before.
John pulled Sherlock from the bed and drug him into the bathroom as he turned on the water, feeling it for the warmth that arrived a few seconds after the cold. He pushed Sherlock into the shower as he climbed in after him. This was so different than before.
Before it seemed so innocent, but now it was just full of the tension John unintentionally created by just standing under the spray as Sherlock stood behind him, waiting for John to do something to him. He wondered what John had felt when Sherlock took him. Did it hurt at first? A little. Was there really that much pleasure behind it? Oh fuck yeah… Was it special, or just another shag?
Sherlock realized he had asked that last question aloud as John wheeled around on his heels and his lips landed on Sherlock's, "What makes you think it was just another shag?" he searched Sherlock's eyes as he seemed to be wanting a certain answer, but John didn't know what it was.
"You're so… casual about what's been done," Sherlock admitted.
"Why wouldn't I be? I love you, and your package was only part of the gift that is you," he smiled. His arms were wrapped around Sherlock's neck as he was on his toes to kiss him again. Sherlock accepted the kisses, and his hands were on John's hips as their kisses stopped, this time, Sherlock almost whimpered at the lost contact.
But he mustered, "It's just that I feel like now that that's been done, I won't be able to please you with the little things anymore," he admitted.
"I'm not a horny teenager, Sherlock. Just because we had sex, does not mean I want it over everything else. Like I said, I love you, all of you, and having sex is only a bonus to the rest," a smile twitched onto Sherlock's lips as he kissed John again and again.
Assured that John didn't want it all the time, Sherlock pressed him to the wall of the shower, all of him was on all of John and John knew Sherlock was getting a hard on, again! How many times…?
But John didn't mind, as a matter of fact, he was half hard again himself. If Sherlock wanted more, he didn't mind. But instead, he decided, he would be topping this time. He flipped their positions as Sherlock's face was covered in water as he could barely breathe in the first place.
His curls were soaked the rest of the way as kisses were planted and the sensation spread over his body as John's hand brought their groins together several times, getting them the rest of the way hard. "Not a horny teenager?" Sherlock breathed as a joke.
"You started it," John accused playfully and Sherlock simply shrugged as his lips were covered with John's and their tongues met in the middle, John getting closer again and Sherlock gripping him hard and making him keep the contact.
"John, how is this going to work?" Sherlock curiously asked, knowing John wanted control this time around. He wasn't sure how the angles would let John do anything, let alone penetrate Sherlock.
"You're gonna face the wall and bend over, that's how this is going to work," he smiled sweetly, despite the order, as Sherlock grinned. His hands were placed on the shower wall as the water slipped over them and John caressed Sherlock's bum with one hand and the other entwined his fingers in between Sherlock's as they were pressed to the wall.
John's fingers teased Sherlock's entrance as one finger slipped in slowly, using the water so it didn't hurt as much. But as John expertly found Sherlock's prostate on the first try, the pain quickly dropped into a puddle of sensations that Sherlock splashed around in and another finger slipped in as John heard moans that had been slightly contained (Aveen sleeping almost right next to them).
He twirled his fingers ever so slightly and pulled them out, "It's gonna hurt a little," he pressed his chest to Sherlock's back, "But it'll be worth the pleasure." Sherlock groaned as John slipped in, slowly and carefully. Both of them let moans escape and Sherlock's ended in a whimper as John bit into his shoulder, trying to silence himself.
It barely worked as he slowly pumped into Sherlock, one hand on his hip, steadying him and the other now groping his shaft, slowly pumping with the pause in between each thrust. After a few attempts, John found what he had been looking for and found before, and he knew he found it when Sherlock pushed into him and moaned John's name soooo loud…
John worried he might wake Aveen, but she had slept through a lot so far, so that worry slipped away as he licked at the mark he left on Sherlock's shoulder. His thrusts were becoming just a little faster as he tried to tell himself to slow down, but Sherlock's next command surprised him.
"Faster," he grunted, "harder…" and John's hips snapped forward.
"Shut up, Sherlock," he breathed on the man's neck, and another loud moan, almost a scream escaped Sherlock's throat. Sherlock was shivering as John's grip tightened and he picked up the pace just a little, to please but not destroy.
This went on for a few more minutes before John couldn't contain what he had been holding back. His vision blurred as the noise of the shower was drowned out and all he heard was Sherlock's moan as he felt something warm oozing into his hand as he realized what had happened.
He dropped out of Sherlock, and pressed his chest to Sherlock's back, kissing the other mark he hadn't noticed he left, "I'm sorry," he mumbled into the pale man's skin.
Sherlock turned and faced Sherlock, "Do not," he warned, "apologize for that. Your were careful and didn't hurt me, what's there to apologize for, anyway?" such a clueless clot, he is.
"But-" he pointed to Sherlock's shoulder where he left a bruise.
"That?" he tried to look at it, "Souvenir," he grinned. "I will remember this, and I'm sure there's more to come. Don't apologize again without a good reason," he rolled his shoulders as he finally relaxed under the spray of warm water.
He grabbed for the soap as it slipped from his fingers, but that was because John had taken it from him and started using it on his lover. "The least I can do is clean up the mess I made," he said. Sherlock rolled his eyes and just let John complete what he started.
He grabbed the shampoo as Sherlock took the soap back and repeated the motions John had used on him before. They continued like this, they washed one another and finished as they dried off and they knew they had to clean up the mess they made on Sherlock's bed.
Luckily, John had done the laundry two days ago and they could simply replace the sheets and throw their clothes in the laundry with the sheets and somehow, one of the small pillows. All of it, it smelled like sex, and that wasn't pleasant to sleep on unless it was right after, and you fell asleep like that. Even then, it's a little weird, or at least John thought so.
Sherlock just wanted to sleep. Getting off was actually exhausting.
"Sherlock," Aveen greeted as Sherlock's lips were removed and his head from John's neck as his eyes settled on her. He nodded in response as he twirled back to the coffee. John blushed as Aveen sat in a chair, her hair was frazzled a bit, but she looked content as she yawned and her whole body shook, and she greeted, "John."
John smiled sweetly when Sherlock set a mug in front of John and he leaned against the table as Aveen placed her chin on the edge as her feet swung under her chair.
"Sherlock, did you eat any of the cereal?" he asked, looking from Aveen to the figure sipping from his cup and just glancing at John as he shook his head. "Good," he dug out a bowl and spoon and set it down in front of Aveen as he plucked the cereal from the cupboard and the milk from the fridge.
He didn't sigh at the fingers in the door of the fridge, he simply ignored their existence. She got the clue and she made breakfast for herself and munched happily as John leaned his hip against the table, beside Sherlock.
Sherlock moved one hand from his mug to John's waist and brought him closer. John just completed the motion as he leaned into Sherlock from behind and he felt the detective wrap a hand around his abdomen to say he approved.
John picked up his mug as he looked at the time. He had to leave in about fifteen minutes. And to do so, he had to get dressed in not just a robe. Sherlock was in his PJs as well, as they hadn't bothered with anything more last night.
"I have to go," John stated as the rest of his coffee was chugged and he slipped the mug into the sink. He placed a quick kiss to Sherlock's lips as he shuffled to their room, not wanting to do anything but stay at home.
Sherlock sat in John's kitchen chair as he decided what he would do about the case. He would leave it open, and tell Lestrade he had very little clues as to who the killer was and couldn't quite reach a conclusion. He hated it, but it was for the best.
God, listen to him, sentiment was clouding so much. If this were anyone else he would have thrown them behind bars without hesitation. But he liked Mary, and she was pregnant, and that seemed to rule out the fact that she had murdered a perfectly innocent woman.
John reappeared, dressed and Sherlock liked John's jeans, as always. He followed John to the door as he pressed him to it again, and his lips brushed over John's. This time, Aveen didn't follow to know what they were doing.
John pressed into Sherlock's lips and Sherlock smiled as John opened the door slightly as he kissed Sherlock once more before slipping out, grinning. Sherlock recovered from being dazed a little as he stalked up the stairs.
He glanced at Aveen before going to his room and getting dressed. His shoes tapped against the floor instead of his usual shuffle as Aveen stared at Sherlock. He was texting Lestrade about the 'unsolved' case. He hated the words he pressed into the keys, but this would save a friend, so it was worth it. Right?
He slipped his mobile in his pocket as he sat at the table, thinking. Aveen popped off her chair and walked to John's room, now hers, where she and John had situated her clothes and John had moved into Sherlock's room.
He smiled at the memory of this morning and boxes in John's muscular arms, John looked so good in anything. When she came back five minutes later, she was wearing trousers and a shirt that had a teddy bear on it and on its belly it said, "I wuv hugs"… it was adorable on her, but it still made Sherlock laugh a little.
Her sneakers squeaked against the kitchen floor briefly before she sat in the chair again and swung her feet, staring at Sherlock before saying, "Disappointed?"
"What?" he was startled.
"You look disappointed," she pointed out as she leaned on the table with her arms under her chin. Sherlock shrugged. He heard his mobile chirp and it vibrated briefly before he pulled it out of his pocket and off his leg.
Lestrade: Well, that's rubbish. But, I'll leave it open, in case another murder happens in the same way. On another note, how's Aveen?- GL
Sherlock replied she was fine and Lestrade said she could stay with them if they signed a few papers the right way and took care of her. What? Like adoption? – SH Lestrade replied with a simple yes and Sherlock pursed his lips slightly in thought.
John would approve, but how would they keep her with the way they are? "By the way," she perked up to hear his question, "How much of last night did you hear?" he had to ask.
She tilted her head in confusion, "What happened last night?" she questioned as her little brows furrowed.
"Nothing. Never mind," good. Sherlock shivered with a small smile at the memory of John and last night. But he shoved that back in its place as he decided he would just go with this. They practically took her in anyway. He texted Lestrade that he would sign whatever he had to.
Sherlock took in a deep breath, his snow white shirt expanding with his chest, "This is going to be a long day," he admitted as he waved Aveen off the chair and she wondered where they were going. Sherlock answered the internal question displayed on her features as he descended the stairs and she followed, "We're going to someplace boring but afterwards, someplace fun, I promise," and he never breaks a promise.
He swung the door open and he locked it behind Aveen and she waited on the curb for him to flag down a cab and shove her in, reciting the address to the Yard…
I am curious to know what you guys think of Aveen. So, do please drop me a review? :)