Author's Note:
Some cute Johnlock interaction. =) Thank you to everyone who continue to review!
Sherlock shrugged. "Better in some ways than I thought, worse in others." He took a sip of tea and then got down straight to business. "Mycroft, the people who kidnapped me in the desert are a fraction of Moriarty's empire. They think John knows something and will be gunning for him. Either through me or Sarah and the baby. I have too much going on to track all the bastards down on my own." He paused, hating that he would be asking for help. "Think you could put together a cleanup crew? If you don't have people to spare, I'm sure dad does." He would never ask the Colonel for help directly, but maybe his older brother would.
Mycroft took a deep breath, studying the tea in his cup with a narrow gaze. "Yes. I can do that. I will have them sent out when we are done talking. Is that why you were kidnapped, then? It wasn't actually because of you?" He glanced at his brother with a bit of a smirk. "You're becoming quite the family man."
"Yes. They thought by kidnapping me, they could lure John there and kill him. They wanted me to tell them all about John. They threatened Sarah and the baby, thinking that would make me talk. I just did everything to press the guy's buttons, which obviously he took out on me but I was just buying time. I figured dad or somebody would show up eventually." Sherlock shrugged and took another sip of his tea.
Mycroft nodded and set his teacup and saucer down on the coffee table in front of them. "I did some research of my own. Those shots were to get him away from you. John is brave to the point of stupidity when it comes to things he is passionate about. Right now, that's you." He nodded surely. There was a moment where Mycroft studied his younger brother's obvious bruises. "I'm proud of you." It was steady, truthful, and the emotional admission made him find a more interesting spot on the carpet over his younger brother's face.
Sherlock raised his eyebrows at his brother's admission. "Proud?" He mused out loud, clearly confused. He drank his tea thoughtfully. What had he done lately that could possibly make his older brother proud of him? Really, he was surprised Mycroft wasn't upset over being punched in the face for no real reason at all other than Sherlock had misplaced his anger on the wrong person. Of course, his older brother was a little more mature than he was about such things.
"You've changed. Years ago you wouldn't have even humored people like you just did with Sarah. You wouldn't be engaged. You wouldn't be in love." He smiled softly. It was a whole new side to his brother that he was happy to see. "John Watson helped change you and it's been amazing to watch. I couldn't ask for a better brother-in-law, to be honest."
John took a hesitant breath before starting to type his text.
I sent you a letter, too. So you know. I miss you already. It's weird to be sleeping by myself. How are you doing? Bruises? Ice yourself, maybe take an entire ice bath. Should help. -JW
Ah. Sherlock smirked a bit at his older brother and shrugged. "It was either change or end up like dad, minus the family part." He gave another shrug and finished off his tea. Just then his phone went off and he took it out to read the message from John. With everything that had been going on, he had been ignoring the pain in his chest and stomach.
I look forward to reading it. I'll reply back to it as soon as I get it. Miss you too. I'm fine. How about you, how are you? –SH
After he sent the message he glanced up to Mycroft. "I have a lot to do tonight still. There are other things I want to discuss but they can wait until tomorrow. You are obviously tired." Sherlock stood up off the couch as he spoke.
Mycroft stood with his brother and glanced toward the slowly opening door. Lestrade's head popped in and suddenly Mycroft was smiling and backing away from Sherlock. "I've got stuff to take care of myself. I'll call you. We have a lot to talk about between Sarah and everything else. Go get some sleep." He turned his back to Sherlock and motioned his head upstairs, following Lestrade with one last glance at the other Holmes.
John smiled softly, relaxing against the pillow with a happy smile.
Covered in dirt. Dying for a good meal. Good other than that. -JW
He shifted against the bed, rolling on to his side and smirking as he sent the second text.
Just jerked off in the shower thinking about you. –JW
Sherlock didn't bother to hide the glare as Lestrade walked in. He shook his head to himself as he left his older brother's flat. Maybe they had both decided to stop being stupid. He got in the ever waiting black car and then pulled out his cell phone to read the messages from John. He smirked a bit.
Happy that things are mostly well for you. –SH
He sent a second message after it quickly. Ah yes, the ever familiar two texts at a time game.
Did you now? Did you scream my name so the whole base could hear you?-SH
John couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped his chest, reading the texts in quick secession. At least they were already falling back into a routine, no matter how childish.
Of course I did. I couldn't help it. You're good with your mouth when I imagine you. -JW
The smirk on his lips was hurting his cheeks he was so happy about the entire situation. Just texting Sherlock was helping lift his mood after the crazy few days they had.
Could probably do it again here pretty soon. Thinking about you is quite the distraction. -JW
Sherlock waited for the inevitable two texts to come in before reading them both and then replied to the first one.
Are you trying to say I'm not good with my mouth for real? –SH
He smirked a bit to himself and then typed out the next text quickly after the first one.
Captain John Watson: Man of Stamina Extraordinaire –SH
When I imagine you, you don't tease me to the point of absolute torture. -JW
John opened the second text before he burst out laughing, grateful that his small room was empty for the time being. Despite the blurriness of his eyes, Christ he had laughed so hard he had cried, he quickly started his second reply.
Sherlock Holmes, Consulting Detective: Man who should be being fucked. -JW
While Sherlock waited for the customary two texts to come in, the car he was in came to halt outside his flat. He got out, grabbing his bag and walked through the door. It was good to be back home. Hamish immediately ran at him and with a mighty jump landed on his shoulder. Sherlock stumbled back a bit from the sudden extra weight, the door behind him preventing him from falling down all the way. The cat began meowing incessantly. He ignored the loud noise in his ear and answered the texts as he walked up the stairs.
Please. You like it. –SH
He entered the living room by the time he was sending the second text.
We really ought to do something about your fucking language. –SH
John read the texts multiple times before replying slowly.
You like it more when I suck you off nice and slow, let you fuck my mouth right before you come. -JW
His head pressed harshly against his pillow and he hissed at the sudden bulge appearing in his boxers.
Piss off. There's nothing wrong with my language. You seem to like it. Have a military fetish, Mr. Holmes? -JW
Sherlock settled into his chair, Hamish still yowling in his ear and demanding attention. He pet the cat briefly before dropping his hand back down to text John once more.
Yeah well, you like it when I'm rough. Biting and scratching you all over. –SH
He thought for a moment before smirking and replying to the second text.
The only fetish I have is for sailor mouthed army doctors. –SH
That was too much. Just reading that text made him arch slightly off the bed with a soft moan. Even through a bloody text Sherlock was effecting him.
And you only do that because I'm fucking you speechless. -JW
The friction caused by his boxers and the next text was enough for him to consider taking a second shower.
That's convenient. I have a fetish for consulting detectives with glorious bodies and who rather enjoys cheesecake. -JW
John smirked proudly as he hit send.
Finally Hamish stopped meowing and when Sherlock went to pet him again, he got a bit finger for his troubles. The cat made a few circles and went to sleep.
I'm only quiet because you are loud enough for both of us and all of London. Just ask Mrs. Hudson. –SH
He smirked a bit as he began typing the second message almost immediately.
We both seem to like cheesecake. You ordered three pieces. I smeared a piece all over you and licked it clean, slow and easy. –SH
The first text made John blush, his eyes closing for a long moment before he managed to, hopefully, rid himself of the red across his cheeks.
That's a lie. Mrs. Hudson can only hear us because her room is right below us. I'm not THAT loud. -JW
He couldn't help himself with the second text, running one hand down his stomach with a feather light touch before running his fingers over his erection through his boxers. He let out a small whimper before he started to reply.
When I get home I'm going to buy whipped cream and lick it off your fucking body. –JW
Sherlock smirked at the first text and the second text made his whole body squirming at the thought.
Yes you are. I'll record you next time. – SH
He smirked yet again and began the next reply.
The whipped cream out of can or tub? According to the books, it matters. For application purposes, that is. –SH
The last text was certainly a bit of a mood killer for John. Sherlock would be technical. His cheeks tinged red with a blush.
You ARE NOT recording me the next time we shag. At all. Ever. And out of the can. Easier to spread. Tastes better. -JW
He rested the phone against his chest as he attempted to slow his breathing and calm himself down. It didn't matter much that he just lost their little unspoken game. He was too focused on trying to will his erection away.
Sherlock smirked triumphantly, even though John couldn't see it. He opted for a single message reply as well, his fingers moving over the buttons with quick practiced ease.
You never let me have any fun. Speaking of fun, we could both be covered in the whipped cream and lick it off each other at the same time.-SH
That definitely sounded interesting to try, although he wasn't quite sure how their body positions would work out for that. He was certain they could come up with something or maybe he could find another book about it.
Christ we need to stop texting like this. I can't walk around camp with a hard on because you brought up licking whipped topping off each other at the same time. -JW
John smiled at the phone, just staring ay Sherlock's name before glancing at the ring on his left hand.
My perfect husband. –JW
The patented smirk that Sherlock wore so well, faltered and twitched into a frown after reading the first message. Without inflection or body language, he wasn't sure if the army doctor was joking or being serious. The second text made him smile though. He hesitated a moment before typing out a reply.
What do you want to talk about? I'm more than happy to keep going on about all the things we are going to do to each other once you are back home. Like how I'll mark every inch of your body. Or would you rather I recite to you all my infinite knowledge of tobacco to you?-SH
John laughed and held the phone against his chest. For a moment he tried to imagine Sherlock's voice saying that and not just reading them himself through a text.
I want to tie your hand behind your back and take you from behind. Shove your face into the mattress while you beg for it. –JW
After hitting send John closed his eyes for a long moment, not believing for a moment that he'd sent such a forward text. At this rate he was going to be taking a second shower. This was better than Sherlock explaining tobacco though.
The smirk returned immediately after reading John's text. He came up with a reply fairly quickly.
Okay, but then I get to tie you up and blindfold you so you'll be in constant anticipation of my every move that you will beg multiple times for it. –SH
Yes. Definitely two showers tonight. John let a soft moan escape from his lips, closing his eyes as he imagined returning home.
Jesus. I want our honeymoon to be now. Right now. Touching myself. -JW
John smirked slightly as he wrapped his left hand around his cock, squeezing it slightly before starting a slow pace. His eyes slammed shut and he imagined Sherlock above him, lowering his lanky body on his own.
The smirk only got bigger. Sherlock was always rather proud of himself in moments like these.
When I have you tied up and blind folded, I'll be licking and touching you all over. And when you least expect it, I'll be inside of you. -SH
Once more he squirmed, his body reacting to his very vivid imagination.
It shouldn't surprise John that Sherlock could do this to him with just words. At this point he was so hard that it didn't matter anyway.
I would shout so loud people outside the flat would hear and pull you down so I could scratch your back. God, Sherlock -JW
The text was slow given the fact that had one hand free but he didn't care that he had kept Sherlock waiting.
While waiting, Sherlock's body continued to twitch as he anticipated different replies. His phone came to life and without hesitation he clicked it open.
I'd start off slow and then go hard and steady. I'd have you shouting so loud the whole street would hear you. –SH
John pulled his hand out of his boxers with all the willpower he had to reply as quickly as possible. He could wait. The idea of getting Sherlock off through texts was exciting enough.
I would clench around you and beg you to go harder before flipping us and taking over. Slowing down, torturing you. –JW
Sherlock ignored the firm member against his leg and instead another smirk twisted onto his lips as he typed his next message.
That is highly unlikely, as you are tied up and blindfolded in this little scenario. So, we do things /my/ way. Hard and fast. –SH
John exhaled loudly through his nose, tensing in slight anger over the text. They were practically shagging through text messages and Sherlock was still in control.
I am in the Army, Sherlock. I can do a lot of things while I'm bound and blindfolded. Would you like to find out? –JW
His hand snaked back into his boxers, the rhythm faster than he had planned.
Sherlock smirked as his eyebrows arched in curiosity while reading John's text.
Yes, well until I can test that theory I'll just have to assume you are bluffing Captain. –SH
He shifted in his chair, one foot tapping rapidly against the floor. He wasn't one to fidget usually, but damn it he wanted to win.
John ripped his hand out of his boxers with a frustrated growl. Damn it, he wasn't giving in.
Then I'm beneath you sucking on your neck, whimpering your name. Christ, you're wonderful. C'mon Sherlock. -JW
He winced when the vivid memory of attempting a tell Sherlock what to do was resurfaced but he didn't care and furiously started a second text.
Fuck me. -JW
Sherlock's foot tempo only increased as he began typing his next message.
Only whimpering? Are you sure you aren't screaming for all of London to hear? Must be losing my touch. Guess, I'll have to slow things down a bit and make /you/ beg for it. –SH
Once more he shifted, which upset Hamish who jumped off his shoulder and stalked off to the kitchen.
John took a moment to focus on keeping both of his hands on he cell phone. His eyes slammed shut as his chest moved rapidly to try and catch his breath.
Screaming. Oh, Jesus, Sherlock. Move now. Harder. I'm going to take the blindfold off if you don't go. -JW
Sherlock's replies were too quick. It was obvious he had yet to remove a hand from the cell phone. John wasn't going to give in, then. He would tough it out.
Even in text messages Sherlock liked being in control and he was still a child about some things. He typed out his next message.
I'll go as fast or slow as I want. You are tied up. Let me know how taking the blindfold goes for you. –SH
It was getting harder to ignore the full erection he had going on right now. God, they were definitely doing this when John got back home to London.
Army, Sherlock. I can do a lot of things. -JW
John hit send and stared at the phone for a long moment before pulling up Sherlock's number and hitting the call button. His free hand instantly moved into his boxers and he let out a satisfied moan."Sherlock, touch yourself. Now." His voice was low and he clearly didn't want to wait.
Sherlock was about to reply to the text when John's call came through. He answered it immediately, smirking at the word spoken to him. "You really are a demanding lover. What if I refuse, hm? Shall I incur the wrath of Captain Watson?" The games were what it made it exciting, at least for Sherlock anyway.
"Then I guess you'll just have to listen to me get off and do something about your erection by yourself," John snapped right away. His stomach tensed and he let out a long, low moan. "I'm picturing you on top of me, riding me and scratching my chest," his voice caught in his throat and his hips bucked involuntarily into his hand. "And when I get back I'm tying you up and showing you what happens when you don't listen to your Captain."
For as much as Sherlock liked being in control, he realized he loved when John got snappy and lippy and try to take over. His eyes closed and he finally undid his pants. "Well in that case, yes Sir but just so you know, you are the one who is getting tied up." He smirked a bit, unwilling to relinquish complete control over to John.
John hissed in reply, arching off the bed slightly and trying to keep himself quiet. "Fine. I like a bit of a challenge. I'll show you what I can do tied up," he growled. There was a moment where he was fairly sure he wouldn't mind being tied up, that having Sherlock control him that much would be delightful, but the thought ended almost as soon as it started. A blinding white light flashed in front of his eyes and he shouted slightly as he came into his hand and across his stomach. "Oh, God. Christ. Sher-" he bit his bottom lip and laughed. "Even over the bloody phone you're fantastic."
Rather pleased with himself, Sherlock began a quick pace on himself. "It's hard to be amazing at everything, but I seem to get by just fine." He couldn't help but be a bit cocky right now. His eyes remained closed, as he thought of all the things they would do together once John was back home. It didn't take long to get himself off, considering how hard he had been before he had started. He panted out, "Miss you…"
"Miss you too," John muttered in reply, trying to hold in his laughter. He wouldn't give Sherlock anymore of an ego boost than he needed. At all. "We'll get through this, Sherlock. I promise. I love you," his voice was happy and proud, a smile on his face. "I think I need a smoke after that." He finally managed a laugh. Nine months was going to be tough but he would try to do it. "I've got to go, alright? I'll let you end the call."
Right. Nine months. Not six. Sherlock didn't want the call to end but knew that John had things to do. "I love you too. Call, text, Skype whenever you can. I'll answer every time. Good night my dear doctor." He terminated the call and eyed the mess on the floor, his pants and hand. He supposed he should clean up a bit. There was a lot to do still. Would he have enough time to do it all?