Hello dear readers and reviewers!

Miss Crookshanks : I live in an igloo (well, that's a lie). Still want to punch me? (this question has nothing to do with the igloo)
hardcore-muffins : Oh thank you! So sexy time just for you (and all my beloved readers :))
helenecolin : alors comme on dit chez nous " fais péter l'url" (oui bon j'avoue je dis pas ça souvent hein :))
Steeviegirl88 : Thank you! Hope you'll like this chapter too :)
thisisforyou : You're doubting my honesty, that's not kind of you :) Thank you for your review, a little more Mycrof/Anthea in this chapter (but don't worry more Sherlock/john). Hope you'll like it :)

Chapter 19 – Tell him

Mycroft was giving the last orders to his men, Moriarty had been moved to the same place as Harrison, which meant somewhere with no windows, safe and under at least 10 tons of concrete. The three soldiers who surrendered had been treated nicely, well, nicer than the others and John had cleaned and bandaged Anthea's cuts which, fortunately, weren't that deep.

Sherlock was patiently waiting the doctor to accept to face him and talk to him but the man kept on escaping his gaze and his touch.

"I'm glad you're all right." John was talking to Lestrade.

"Well, Moriarty kept me in a basement, I couldn't tell you where but he treated me...well. At least he didn't beat me to a pulp or make me starve." The man smiled.

Sherlock slid silently behind his lover and put his hand on his shoulder.

"John can I talk to you please?"

"Not now, Sherlock." The blond haired man hissed. Lestrade frowned.

"Please, John."

"I have something to say to your brother, Sherlock, I should, well, go and tell him now. Excuse me." Lestrade went away leaving the two men alone.

"John..."

"Listen. I'm fed up with that. Having this conversation with you. Again. You kept me in the dark. Again. After tonight's events I'm, well, I'm lost. Sherlock I love you. So much that if I'd listen myself right now I'd bury my face in your chest and ask you to take me up to your room. But I can't do that because I'd lost what I am and who I am. I've always been my own master. Now I'm not sure of anything."

"John I..."

"Don't." The doctor went out of the study and climbed the stairs slowly. He felt heavy and sad and lost. He came in the bedroom, searched and found his bag and started packing his clothes.

He heard the door open and turned to see Anthea walking in the room.

"Which one of the Holmes brother is sending you?" He said stuffing his bag with one of his jumpers.

"Nor the one nor the other. I come in my name for I'm still a person you know." The brown woman said softly.

"You're right I'm sorry, I shouldn't talk to you like that. I'm being unfair, sorry again."

"It's all right." The woman crossed the room and stopped at the bed's end "He wanted to tell you."

John laughed bitterly. "When we discovered what Moriarty was planning we talked about what we should and shouldn't do. Sherlock argued with Mycroft about letting you in the dark, he wanted you to be able to make your own choices but Mycroft...He was scared you might become too emotional."

"Well, that's not his style, is it." John threw another jumper in the bag and zipped it close.

"So I volunteered to be the first...hostage or anything it would be. I'm not the romantic kind. And I'm not a heroin either. But I knew that Sherlock wouldn't accept any of our plans if he thought you could be in first line."

John turned to her and watched her face intently.

"He loves you."

"And me him."

"Go down and tell him."

John smiled "Maybe you should do the same." He run out of the room and down the stairs.

… … …

Anthea's hand was on her doorknob when she heard a voice on her back.

"I was searching for you." Mycroft said his voice calm.

"And here I am." Anthea sighed turning around to face her lover.

"Where were you going?"

"Well, obviously, in my room."

"I was thinking," he took her hand "but I need to be sure you'd agree with that," he looked uncertain and Anthea frowned "because I don't want you to believe I want to deprive you of your freedom or anything..."

Oh my! Mycroft was beating around the bush.

"Mycroft, what is this all about?"

"I want you to stay with me, in my room, all night, sleep in your arms, wake up next to you."

Anthea stayed silent for a long minute eyes locked with her lover's.

"I've been told a few minutes ago that I should do something. I agree, I think it's time to put it in words." She cupped Mycroft's cheeks and pulled his face down "I love you." She stole his lips as he rolled his arms around her waist.

"I'll never let you volunteer to be a target any more, ever!" He held the amazon close.

"Tell me what I already know." She said on his lips.

"I love you." Mycroft whispered.

He dragged her to his room and closed the door.

… … …

Sherlock was sitting on a white couch face in his hands and, god, he was sobbing silently. John knelt in front of him and put his hand on his knee. Sherlock removed his hands from his face, his eyes red and puffy opened wide.

"John, please, listen to me, I..."

"Anthea already told me everything." John put his hand behind Sherlock's neck and pulled him down to give him a soft kiss. The detective slid on the floor and surrounded his lover's waist with his long bony legs.

"John..." Sherlock whispered on his lover's lips

"It's all right..."

"No, please, I want to say it. As far as I want you to be mine and willing to follow me for ever, I want you to believe, for it's true, that I'll never ask you to be anything else that what you are and want to be. I don't want to change you or control you. I really need you to believe me."

"I do."

"I'm really sorry."

"I know." The doctor cupped his lover's check "And I love you." He let his hand go down his lover's neck and chest then turned around his waist and grabbed his arse. He pulled the detective on his lap and kissed him hungrily using his tongue and teeth.

Sherlock moved his hips rubbing their crotches together.

"I love you more." He whispered in his man's ear. Suddenly he was lying on the floor, John between his thighs.

"No you don't." The doctor nibbled his lover's earlobe while moving his hips suggestively and the detective moaned.

"Well that need to be proved..." The detective teased.

John tangled his hand on Sherlock's curls and locked eyes with him.

"Fuck me."

The detective opened his mouth, he wanted to ask his love if he was sure, if he heard well, wanted to know why he asked that now, wanted to be sure it wasn't because they argued but none of these words came out of his mouth because John's eyes answered all his questions. They were burning with desire and determination.

"Let's go upstairs." The brown haired man growled.

They almost fell and fucked on the stairs but they remembered the presence in the building of a whole contingent of soldiers, a DI and, well, Mycroft and his amazon who must be occupied with their own business. Anyway they finally reached the bedroom and the bed. John ripped Sherlock's shirt off and began marking the ghostly white chest with his teeth and Sherlock fumbled with John's belt. John tugged forcibly Sherlock's pants and shorts then took his length in his mouth sucking and licking greedily. The detective arched his back and growled. Obscene noises came out of John's mouth as he sucked messily his lover's cock. Then, when he felt his lover's wouldn't stand the pressure much longer he let go of his erection and bent over him.

"Fuck me now!" He ordered.

Sherlock pushed his lover until he laid on the bed and rolled him on his belly.

"As far as I'd love to do this hard and rough, I think we will have to start soft and slow. I wouldn't forgive myself if I'd hurt you." He put his hands on John's waist "Kneel on the bed my love." John did as he was told and Sherlock ran his fingers along his lover's arse then between his thighs pulling them softly to make him understand he wanted him to part his legs. The detective kissed the doctor's arse then licked it's crack until he reached the place he needed to stretch. He licked and licked again then pushed his tongue inside. John held his breath and grabbed the sheets.

"Are you all right my love?"

"Oh god, yes! Please don't stop!"

Sherlock leant over and opened the top drawer of the bedside table where he found the lube bottle. He put some on his fingers and inserted a first phalanx inside his lover moving carefully then he pushed a little more and more until John's body swallowed his entire middle finger then he slowly pulled it out. Sherlock was amazed by the doctor's control over his body and promptly added a second finger.

"Is it okay?" Sherlock moved his hand faster.

"More than okay!" The blond haired man panted.

After several minutes, Sherlock removed his finger as John sighed and moaned, and positioned himself right behind his lover. He put lube on his cock and pushed himself inside his man sliding slowly. He felt John's tightness around him and grabbed his lover's waist digging his nails in the soft skin.

"John..."

"Oh my..." John was about to tear the sheets.

"Am I hurting you?"

"Oh Fuck, Sherlock, move!" Sherlock slid in and out slowly at first then faster and faster and John let out a cry as his erected cock twitched "Oh fuck..." Sherlock hit the same spot again and again with the same response. He circled his lover's sex with his hand and mimicked his hips rhythm with it, drawing another cry from John's throat.

The doctor was panting and asking for more then nothing of that since he was screaming Sherlock's name and coming all over the sheets. His orgasm made his body contract around Sherlock's cock which made the detective follow in bliss. He fell on John's back, breathless.

"Oh John...I love you...I love you so much..." He panted his mouth on the blond haired man's clavicle.

Sherlock carefully pulled out of his body and John moved to lie on his belly again He rest himself along his man's side. John looked at him and gave a sated smile.

"I love you more." He whispered.

… … …

Maybe a last chapter or an epilogue after that, not sure right now.

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