AN: Okay folks here we are again and as previewed, this one is a bit steamy... and long. This is the longest chapter thus far at well over 2k words... Not to mention I think I just hit 15k when I was typing on it earlier. So as I think I promised this is turning into a very long story. All for the best I hope. So thank you to my readers, reviewers, and everyone who has favorited this or story alerted this. I love all of you and my day is always brightened when I see how many people like this. So hugs and cookies for all.

This chapter is dedicated to NivalKenival and MeredithRiddle. Thank you two for all of the wonderful reviews.

Disclaimer: I still don't own the boys... darn... still gonna play with them though... ;-)

SH/JW

It was quiet in the house now that Greg was gone, and Sherlock was taking the time to himself to think. John was off in the kitchen cleaning up the used dishes from the day. He seemed to be enjoying the domesticity of it, which Sherlock was glad of. It was nice to see his friend back doing something that he was familiar with. Even though they were not going to be doing more than part-time consulting for Greg now, it didn't do to forget the rest of the issues that they were going to be facing in their new lives. He himself was going to be finding some sort of employment outside of their new home, while John was going to stay in and… well he couldn't really call it convalescence really, as his blogger wasn't ill in any way, perhaps he would just call it recovery. He still hadn't had the opportunity to properly debrief John about his experiences at the hands of The Woman. He was still unclear about the sort of 'training' that she had put his John through… there he went again calling him 'his John'. He scowled up at the ceiling from his prone position on the sofa. He tapped his steepled fingers on his lips. That wouldn't do. John wasn't his property, he was his blogger. There was a twinge behind his breastbone at the thought of John not being his. Possessiveness, it was something he was familiar with at least, but this want was outside of his experience. He wanted John, not just as his blogger, but as whatever the other man wanted to give him.

There was a soft cough from the hallway entry, 'Sherlock? I'm done. Is there anything you need me for before I go up to bed?'

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, gathering his courage. But his hands still trembled as he sat up and looked to John. 'Yes there is actually.'

John's eyes widened slightly in surprise as he smiled softly, 'Did you want tea?'

Oh, bless the man for giving him an out and it was one he wanted, but he was ready for this. If they were ever going to move forwards, then he couldn't take that out. 'No.'

'Then what do you need? I'll get you anything you want.'

He braced himself and in a hesitant voice answered, 'You.' Oh. That wasn't so bad. John looked shocked, but he was still smiling. That was a good sign. Now he just needed to keep going. 'What happened the other day… can you… we…Can that happen again?' He let his eyes fall to the floor. He hadn't anticipated this being so difficult. Emotions were such a foreign thing to him, since he had spent such a long time denying them. But there, John was moving closer. He looked up to see that John was now standing an arms-length away, smiling with his hand outstretched.

'I will give you whatever you ask for Sherlock.'

Taking the chance he reached out and took his bloggers hand, letting the other man help him up. 'Now what?'

John chuckled, it wasn't mocking he could tell, it was just one that spoke of happiness. 'May I lead you?'

He nodded and clutching John's hand tighter, following as the other man moved away towards the stairs. At the first stair, John paused and asked softly if he were sure. 'Of course I am.' As they continued up the stairs John started to rub his thumb softly over Sherlock's knuckles. It was rather soothing, he found. He supposed that he was happy that it was John that he was going to explore this with. He didn't trust many people and even fewer with his health and happiness. John was his exception in everything.

Coming out at the top of the stairs, John paused in the hall just outside the door to his room. 'Where would you like to go from here Sherlock? My room or yours?'

Oh, he hadn't thought of that. 'Mine I suppose.'

'You'll probably be more comfortable there.'

'Yes.' Leave it to John to think of his comfort over his own.

A few more steps saw them in Sherlock's room, where the detective dropped his blogger's hand as he turned to shut the door behind them. Turning back he nearly lost his nerve again when he saw that John had taken off his jumper and was standing fully clothed otherwise, next to the bed.

'John?'

John motioned him closer and after he had complied, he sat him down on the edge of the bed. 'Don't worry Sherlock. You are in control here. I will only do what you want me too.'

He nearly jumped when the other man placed a steady hand on his chest over his heart. He knew that the doctor would be able to feel how it was pounding there in his ribcage. 'I trust you John.'

John's smile was bright as he knelt, his knees to either side of the detective's feet. 'May I take your shoes off Sherlock?'

He nodded as he watched the other man. He wasn't sure of this, but oh that felt nice. He had never had anyone touch his ankles like that before. John was rubbing small circles around the protruding bones as he unlaced the black shoes. With slow movements he lifted one foot and then the other, stripping each of first its shoe and then its matching sock. A rush of warmth spread up Sherlock's body as John started to gently message each foot.

'Is this okay Sherlock?'

His voice when he found it came out as barely more than a breath. 'Yes.'

Dark eyes were raised to meet his own, questioning if he wanted more. At his nod John stood, his hands rising to touch his jackets lapels. 'All right?'

He nodded again. His eyes falling closed as John's warm hands slid under the lapels and onto his shoulders. He shuddered as John slowly ran his hands down his arms, the jacket following along until it had entrapped his wrists by his sides. A quick motion on his part and the custom made article was on the floor and John's hands were back on his shoulders. John's fingers started to rub gentle circles along his collar bones and slowly moved up his neck. He let out a shuddering breath as John's fingers tangled themselves in his hair. A light tug and his head was pulled back exposing his throat to his blogger.

'May I kiss you Sherlock?'

His eyes opened long enough to see the adoring smile in John's eyes, before they slid shut again. 'Yes.' A breath went by, then two, and then three, an eternity before John's lips touched his own for the first time. Oh. His lips were soft, warm, and just a hint of the taste of dinner remained behind as John lifted his head and smiled down at him. He reached a hand up and pulled John's head back down by the lightest pressure on the back of his neck. This time he let his lips part slightly and pushed gently against the other man's mouth. He was rewarded when John's tongue slipped out and caressed his lips. His chest filled with warmth when his blogger gasped when he went a step farther and chased John's tongue back into his mouth. A few moments of this left the two gasping for breath.

'Shirt?'

'Yes John.'

Shaking hands moved from his neck to the buttons of his favorite purple shirt. Slowly John bent and started to undo them one by one, each punctuated with a kiss to his chest. His hand tightened on the other man's neck as John let his tongue flick out to taste his skin just above his belt.

'Shall I take my shirt off Sherlock?'

Sherlock could barely find the air to answer, but several gasps later he did. 'Oh, god yes.'

John was much quicker with his own shirt than he had been with Sherlock's, practically ripping the thing off in his haste to obey. But Sherlock was pleasantly surprised that he managed it without disturbing the hand on his neck. When his chest was fully exposed to Sherlock's eyes the doctor replaced his hands on the detective's waist. This led to him releasing a shuddering gasp. Oh, he felt like he was burning. Why had he ever been afraid of this? This was far better than he had ever anticipated, and they hadn't even finished unclothing themselves. 'John.'

John smiled up at him again, his hazel eyes hazy with lust. 'Yes?'

'Please.'

He nodded, his eyes never leaving Sherlock's as he slowly undid the soft leather belt and slid it from the loops. Shivers raced up the younger man's spine at the feel.

'John please.'

Nimble fingers undid the button and zip of his trousers and John's warm breath sent more shivers through his skin. 'Lie down and lift your hips my own.'

Releasing his hold on John's neck, he obeyed. He now rested splayed across the bed, his feet still resting on the floor. Caressing fingers slid his trousers and pants down exposing him fully to the other man. He let his hips rest back on the bed as each foot was lifted and the rest of his garments joined his jacket on the floor.

'You are so beautiful Sherlock.'

He looked down to see John resting his hands on either side of his hips, a blissful smile just barely lifting the corners of his mouth. 'John.' His voice was just a whisper, giving his blogger permission to do to him whatever he liked.

With a soft touch John's hand caressed him from knee to hip, before coming to rest with firm pressure on his waist. 'Are you sure Sherlock? What do you want me to do?'

'What?' He was asking for permission to what? 'I'm sure, just do it John.'

'Do what Sherlock?' John's voice was teasing as he leaned his head down and blew air onto Sherlock.

Sherlock could only groan. Oh that felt good.

'Do you want me to lick it Sherlock?' He asked as he proceeded to do just that.

His eyes rolled back at the feel of John's tongue on him there. He really was licking it, treating it like it was his favorite type of lolly. Fire burst through his veins as John's lips surrounded the head and applied pressure. 'Oh god. John.'

His blogger proceeded to take more of him into his mouth and then he hummed.

Sherlock, just about shot off the bed, it was good thing that John was holding his hips down at this point, because all he wanted to do was thrust farther into that warm wet heat that was his friends mouth.

He moaned deeply when John's mouth left him with a pop. 'Do you want more Sherlock?'

'More?' He just wanted John to keep doing what he had been, more would surely kill him. His eyes were hazy as he looked at where John was now standing, his hands undoing his own trousers.

'Do you want to be in me Sherlock?'

Oh, god. In him? That was more than he had… but… 'Oh, yes John.'

The now naked doctor motioned for him to move farther up onto the bed. When he had complied the older man crawled up over him. 'Shall I ride you Sherlock? Would you like that?'

'Yes.'

John's smile seemed to make his heart skip a beat and then the blogger picked up a small bottle. 'This will make things easier.'

Lubricant, the analytical part of his mind supplied, the rest of him just shuddered in pleasure at the thought of being in John.

After he had poured out a liberal amount, John ran slick fingers up Sherlock's shaft and had him once again moaning uncontrollably. A few moments later he stopped and shifted so that he was now kneeling over Sherlock. 'Ready my own?'

Sherlock had no words at this point, so he reached up and rested his hands on John's hips.

Slowly John lowered himself onto Sherlock. All the detective could do was groan. Oh, so warm. John was tight, but not so tight that Sherlock would harm him, he could tell. It was unlike anything he had ever felt before. This was… oh… And then John tightened his muscles and Sherlock was lost. He had never believed the stories that people told of seeing stars during orgasm, but now he definitely did. There were stars and such a flood of warmth that he must have blacked out for a moment, because he roused at the feel of wet warmth pulsing onto his stomach.

He looked up to see John's head throw back, his mouth wide in a gasp. He imagined that he had not looked all that dissimilar himself a moment earlier. So this is what all that fuss was about.

John's head came down after a moment and he met Sherlock's half-open eyes with his own well sated ones. 'So?'

Sherlock nodded with a smile, he did not trust his voice. At John lifting himself off of Sherlock, he gasped at the loss of that warmth. But he was gratified when John didn't go any farther than his side. Rolling to his side he faced his blogger and sleepily kissed him. 'Stay.'

'Of course. Sleep Sherlock. We can clean up in the morning.'

He let out a lethargic groan of agreement, before he allowed himself to give in to satiated exhaustion. He only just registered that John had pulled the duvet over them before he was lost to sleep.

SH/JW

Preview for Part 18

Guilt was a foreign feeling for Mycroft, but it was an emotion that rarely he did feel. He certainly felt it today standing before the door of 221 Baker Street. He had spent the last three days searching for his wayward little brother, only to find that he was nowhere to be found. He had not gone to any of his usual haunts and none of his old dealers would even speak of him. Sherlock's homeless network was just as tightlipped. It seemed as if all of them had heard of the part that he had played in Doctor Watson's extended absence. He had even asked Inspector Lestrade about it, but he was just as clueless as he was. It turns out that he hadn't even known that Sherlock was missing. Lestrade had spent his entire holiday helping get his cousin settled into a new house.

Useless.