Hi, so this chapter has a M rating, there's some (lots) mentions of sex. I think I should apologize in advance for my dodgy sense of humor, there will be a lot of it.

Two more miracles: Chapter 2

John shook his head.

"What?"

"The psychologist asked you to say those things that you wanted to say to me out loud. When you walked out of the office you said that you loved me, actually you repeated yourself and said I love you."

"You listened into my meeting with a psychologist?"

Sherlock just didn't understand the idea of privacy did he? As in other peoples, he understood his own perfectly well.

"Yes. I was concerned when you made the appointment so I bugged the office to make sure you were okay."

"I think that's the closest you actually get to being sweet."

Sherlock took a step back and started to think about it.

"Thank you."

"It wasn't a compliment."

Sherlock started pacing again. He usually did this when he was thinking. No that wasn't right he usually did this when he was frustrated, when there was a puzzle he couldn't quiet figure out. Was John frustrating him? That made a change it was usually the other way round.

"Talk to me Sherlock, I'm not going to wait another week for you to actually make up your mind."

Sherlock stopped pacing and turned to look at him.

"I have to leave. I have to take out the rest of Moriarty's web. You'll never be safe if I don't."

"I'll never be safe?"

"Yes, isn't it obvious, Moriarty wanted me to die. He burned me; the final chapter of his little story was to have me commit suicide; to ensure that he had several snipers following you and Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade."

"Lestrade?"

"I may like him.. at least his easy for me to understand as he's completely boring and he does let me in on some interesting cases."

"Right. So wait, you faked your own death to save Mrs. Hudson, Lestrade and I."

"And Me."

"What?"

"There is no reason for bad grammar."

"Sherlock, you.. you can come back now right?"

"I'm sure Moriarty would have put in place some kind of payment scheme so that if It turned out I was still alive you would instantly enter the hit lists again. No I must track down and destroy Moriarty's links and resources."

"Can I come with you?"

"No, you're presence and sense of morality would just slow me down, and alert others to my currently living state."

John sighed. He had just found that Sherlock was still alive and yet he was going to loose him again. It was just too cruel.

"It may be a while before I can return to my normal life."

John nodded unable to talk.

"John, you said you loved me."

John gave a nervous laugh.

"Yes. Umm.. I did, didn't I? But In my defense I did think you were dead."

"So the idea of me being dead was in some way romantic?"

"Why do you say romantic? I might have meant it in a you're my best friend I love ya mate way." John said thumping him in the shoulder.

Sherlock looked down at his shoulder before leveling him an icy stare.

"I realize that as a soldier it would be difficult for you experience and then admit to sexual feeling for the same gender."

John shook his head.

"It's not like that." He held his hand to his forehead again. This was hard but there was no way past it.

"It's just you. I mean, I, I don't have sexual thoughts about you, not really. But my life started to revolve around you Sherlock. I admire you more than anybody else. And I... I get you. All those little quirks but I still put up with you because under it all, it's all wroth it."

"You are not attracted to me." Sherlock said as if he needed to hear it straight.

John could not help but look up and down. Sherlock was slim and muscular. His face was not classically proportioned but there was a beauty to it. The perfect cupid bow of his lips the sharp blue eyes and high cheek bones and then the dark curly hair. Also his fingers, so long and fine. He could not deny it.

"Okay, maybe a little."

There were several responses John expected to his admittance. The most likely would be that Sherlock would call him an idiot. What wasn't on John's list was to kiss him. Yet, that is what he did. He grabbed his face roughly between his two hands and smashed his lips to John's in a way that lacked all finesse but was still in John's mind one of the hottest things he had ever experienced. Sherlock's lips were warm and tasted a little like coffee. It was a little different from kissing a woman, Sherlock certainly had more force behind him and he was rather taller so he was bending his head sharply down creating a strange angle for their lips to meet and there was the way he pushed his tongue into his mouth almost as if he was trying to dare John to fight for dominance over him. Still, it was not shocking because Sherlock was a man; it was shocking because Sherlock was Sherlock.

Eventually, (but not giving enough time for John had a chance to fully determine what was happening, why it was happening and whether he was actually going to respond in anyway except staring blankly at Sherlock's cheek and letting him explore his mouth with his tongue) Sherlock pulled away. Before John could catch a glimpse of his expression he had turned his back on him and taken a few steps away. When he turned around again he had that smug little Sherlock smile on his face. The one he got when he realized that a case was going to get 'fun'.

"What? You've got that look on your face and to be honest it's kind of scaring me."

"What look?"

"The 'I like this experiment it's challenging' look."

"I do like this experiment and I imagine it will be challenging."

"Sherlock, what did we learn from the hound of the Baskaville case?"

"Many things John."

"I am referring to what you may have learnt about me."

Sherlock took a moment to think this over before answering.

"You don't appreciate being experimented on?"

"Yes."

"It's not exactly that I am experimenting on you John." Sherlock said twirling one of his hands. "More that there is an experiment I wish to carry out with you as both partner and willing participant. Apparently being an unwilling participant is considered very unpleasant and I'd be committing a criminal act."

"Sherlock, just what are you saying?" John was starting to feel rather tired.

Sherlock stepped a little closer. There was something very intense about the way he was staring at John.

"You get me. You matter. I care about you. You are the only person in my life who has all three of those components."

"Right, so… what you're saying is?"

"Love is not quantifiable."

"You are saying you love me?" John could not quiet believe his ears, was Sherlock even capable of that? Then again two minutes before John would not think Sherlock was capable of kissing somebody so it seemed he knew very little of the man behind the genius after all. Except maybe his like of Jeremy Kyle because that was definitely not the genius speaking.

"I do not pay attention to things that are unquantifiable."

"So, you don't love me."

'For Christ sake make up your mind man.' John thought.

"I am saying that as I do not pay any attention to it, it may have taken me a while to figure out that was what I was experiencing."

"So you do love me?"

"God John, Yes, don't you ever listen?"

Sherlock loved him. Sherlock Holmes the man he had been fighting with his emotions over for months loved him. John couldn't help himself from smiling and this uncontrollable physical reaction told him something. He didn't really mind right at that moment what the fact that he loved Sherlock Holmes, a man, who loved him back meant. He would have hours to think that over later, hours to come to terms with the fact that even at his age it was possible to learn something new about himself. Hours to come to terms with the fact that all those times he said the phrases 'not in a relationship' 'purely platonic' and 'for the record I am not gay' he was lying to himself.

"Sherlock."

"Yes John."

"I think.." John licked his lip and looked down. "I think.. I'm going to kiss you now."

John took a step towards Sherlock who also took a step forwards to they meet each other in the middle of the room . The kiss was hungry and desperate. They clung to each other. It was so good, John has never felt this before. This .. need. It was Sherlock who started to undress them. John's shirt dropping to the floor. John broke the kiss needing to breath. Sherlock's attention drifted downward to the little pucker of skin where John was shot, in the shoulder but it was from above so the exit mark comes just above his heart. Most of his past lovers had ignored it, it was an ugly little pucker, with spider marks coming out of it where he had to widen the wound to get bits of debris out. But Sherlock kissed it, gently and sweetly before running his fingers over it.

They were soon kissing again, hands tangled in hair and ghosting over well defined though very different shaped chests. Sherlock was hairless, completely hairless, his skin was smooth but not like a woman, no he was hard. And he was hard, it was against his stomach pushed flush against him but it didn't freak him out it just sent shivers of anticipation and lust straight through him. Somehow they made it to John's room. And callapsed on top of each other on the bed.

Then Sherlock was reaching for his belt and John had to rest his hands on Sherlock's to stop him from continuing.

" Sherlock, before we continue I have to ask, have you ever done this before?" John asked breathlessly.

"Undone a belt buckle?" Sherlock replied quirking his eyebrows as he hovered above him.

"No had sexual intercourse?"

"Of course I've done it before. Once. " Sherlock went from annoyed to thoughtful in sixty seconds "With a woman, I believe the general motion and aims are the same though."

"What makes you think you're going to be on top?"

Sherlock's eyes widened. He got up off the bed and pressed his hand to his mouth walking backwards and forwards as if thinking. John silently cursed himself.

"Look Sherlock I wasn't saying I wouldn't consider..""

"Okay."

"What?"

"I have run analysis on the situation and I find that a good way to proceed."

"Right. "

John started to think about the situation he was in. He was about to have sex with a man. He really hoped this was going to work out alright. Thinking was really not good.

"Just a second." Sherlock said getting up and walking over to where his coat had been flung at some point. He pulled a tube of lube out of his pocket and put it on the bedside table. John's eyes widened.

"You brought lube?"

"I reasoned that sexual intercourse may be a possible outcome of this conversation."

John's mouth dropped open, at some point Sherlock had thought about having sex with him, and he had thought it such a good idea that he brought lube. And he thought that he was pasted being surprised by Sherlock's actions.

"Yet no condoms."

"Have you noticed that I do not wear gloves when doing experiments John?"

"Right, I forgot the great Sherlock Holmes can't catch syphilis."

"You have syphilis?" Sherlock asked again looking confused.

"No."

"Good, that would be a little off putting."

John sighed as Sherlock sat back on the bed.

"I am irritating you again aren't I?"

He said placing his hand on John's jaw. He leaned into the touch.

"Only a little."

"I apologize."

Sherlock leaned down and kissed him gently. Then not so gently. Then their hangs started moving and grasping again and John felt like he was on fire because he was just filled with so much Need.

Harry came home from work early. It had been such a quiet day and her boss had ad that one person in the group of three could have the day off. Heather, the very sexy but unfortunately straight new girl had suggested they draw straws but Sandra had known that Harry's brother John was in a bad place and had suggested that she go. Harry was grateful, despite the fact that she and John did not get on most of the time she cared about her brother enough to have had a lot of sleepless nights in the last two weeks worrying about him.

It must be hard to live with somebody for eighteen months; to grow to be their friend to admire them and to become extraordinarily attached to them. Then to have the rug pulled out from under your feet by finding out that everything they had ever said to you was a lie. That in fact when you thought you were off solving crimes and helping humanity you were actually being used by an attention seeking sociopath who was actually committing the crimes; then to have him commit suicide in front of you.

She opened the door of her apartment and walked to John's room to tell him that she was home. What she heard made her pause.

"Ow, that hurts." It was a deep voice she did not recognize. She placed her ear close to the door.

"It gets you back for calling me short then. "

That was John's voice. And then a deep chuckle followed by Johns laughter.

"John will you please start your thrusting, I am growing impatient. I believe you will find my prostate slightly to the...Ahgh,... I see you do not require assistance."

"Sherlock, do you ever shut up?"

Harry walked away.

People grieve in different ways. If her little brother needed to role play fucking Sherlock with some guy then that was fine. Whatever it took to get him back on his feet was alright with her.

Sherlock was quiet except for little reverberating moans and occasionally whispering Johns name reverently. John had never felt so connected to somebody else before, there was a strange calm about him, he felt a kind of tenderness and the want to just hold the man in front of him, perfect in all his imperfections. Sherlock's long limbs tangled with his, his hips bucked upwards making his smooth and hard member brush against John's stomach. He trembled and gasped his long fingers seemed to be constantly moving, grasping at Johns shoulders or hips or hair silently begging, come close to me, kiss me, move faster, make me ache.

John did not know how long they were together before Sherlock's muscles tensed around him, so strong they made him give out a muffled yell. Sherlock's eyes were closed his head tilted backward on his pillow for a moment and those beautiful lips pursed. John barely noticed the squirts of hot liquid against his stomach, Sherlock was magnificent. He gave a long sigh as his muscles relaxed and he seemed to sprawl completely relaxed onto the bed.

With a whispered 'I love you' and a shuddering moan John came into his best friend.

Sherlock's fingers were grazing down John's back. It was kind of nice actually. He felt very calm and content as if all this was very normal. But things that involved Sherlock didn't usually fall within the range of normal.

"Sherlock?"

"Yes John?"

"Not to sound like a teenage girl but are there any particular thoughts or feelings going through your mind at the moment?"

"According to both the British, Canadian and American Kennel clubs the Labrador Retriever is the most popular breed of dog. In 1925 though the most popular dog owned was the German Shepard probably due to the popularity of Rin Tin Tin."

John pursed his lips, why was Sherlock so frustrating? Sherlock didn't seem to notice his annoyance and bent his head down to kiss his temple.

"Sherlock, I was hoping for an answer that may in some way connect to me, or you or you and me or what we just did."

"Oh. The intercourse. It was good. Very enjoyable, thank you John."

John took a deep breath.

"Sherlock?"

"Yes John." Sherlock said as if John was being very trying. Yet his hands still ran down his back scratching lightly.

"I'm glad you are still alive."

"Please don't tell me that you are now going to become sentimental."

"Just a little bit yeah."

Sherlock tilted his head so that he could look down at him. They both burst out laughing.

"Oh God Sherlock, what are we doing?"

"I thought we were enjoying a post coital moment." Sherlock laughed. "I don't suppose you'll allow me a cigarette?"

"You suppose right."

"Oh well. I can live with that."

They lied together in contented silence for a little longer.

"Is it always so messy?"

"This is the first time I have been with a man Sherlock."

"Yes, but you are a doctor so it is closer to your area of expertise."

"Yes." John relented. "Sex is messy."

"You know I am going to have to leave soon?"

"I know. I would just prefer not to think about it."

"John. Not thinking about it is not going to stop me from leaving and I have some thing's I need you to do."

John sighed and buried his face into his the warm nook of Sherlock's shoulder.

"Go on then."

"First, if while I am away Mother gets ill you must tell her I am still alive so that she arranges things correctly."

John nodded. I shall keep in touch with Mycroft.

"My apologizes. I know that is somewhat arduous a task."

John chuckled. "Just come back quickly."

"I shall try. John, I accessed some savings."

"You have savings?"

"That does not matter, what I am saying is that I like Baker Street and I know you like Baker Street. I can still continue to take care of half the rent. Or rather I will continue to pay half the rent whether you choose to stay there or not. It has already been arranged."

"Oh right, am I to be the kept man?"

"Don't be melodramatic John. Lastly I need you to make sure that Mrs. Hudson doesn't give my science equipment away to a load of prepubescent imbeciles."

"Right, can do."

"Good." Sherlock shifted beneath him and John moved surprised to see him get out of the bed and pull on his jeans. He watched Sherlock get dressed allowing himself those few minutes to try to memorize Sherlock's shoulders, the dimples at the small of his back, the strong but lean muscles at the tops of his arms.

Sherlock turned to him, he kissed him very quick and hard on the mouth.

"I do love you John. But let's not get sentimental now. I shall be back in a few years."

"A few years?" John couldn't help the little gulp at the end of the sentence.

He blinked his eyes trying not to cry (because he was a soldier for Christ's sake) as Sherlock goes to the door and stood there for a moment rather awkwardly.

"Right then, see you later."

"Bye Sherlock."

Sherlock turned and walked out of sight.

John laid on his bed waiting for the sound of the door closing. It still seemed too much like that sound was the doo closing on this part of his life, the best part of his life. The man he loved had come back but only for a few hours and now he was going off somewhere and John would remain in limbo. He would not know if Sherlock was alive or had managed to get himself killed, he did not know if Sherlock would return or how long it would take or what would happen between them if he did. A small part of his mind thought it might be batter if Sherlock was still dead. But he knew that was not true. His life was a far better just knowing that Sherlock existed. He didn't have to be close to him, he just had to remember that Sherlock had faked his own death to save him, that Sherlock was doing this partly for him and that Sherlock had tried to say that he loved him. That would have to be enough. He would have to have faith that he would return, after all he had already given John one miracle.

The next day he went back to London, moved back into Baker Street and took back his old job at the clinic.

The day after he was working at the clinic when his phone started buzzing he wrote out a prescription for the patients piles and told him to go easy on all the red meats then checked his phone.

It was Mrs. Hudson so he quickly rang her back

"Oh John come quick. Some body has left something here for Sherlock."

"Are you alright?"

He asked at the upset tone in her voice.

"Oh I don't know what to do."

Panic spread through him, did somebody know that Sherlock was alive, was it a threat?

"I'll be there in about fifteen minutes. Just keep away from it alright?"

"Okay."

He told the receptionist that there was family emergency and grabbed a cab back to Baker Street. He threw too much money at the driver in a rush to get into the house.

"Mrs. Hudson?" He called opening the door.

"Up here dear." She shouted from up the stairs.

He ran up them two at a time. Mrs. Hudson was looking worried and upset. He put his hand on her arm and bent down to look at her, she looked more confused then afraid.

"What is it?"

Mrs. Hudson pointed to something outside the door to their (Sherlock' and his) flat. It looked like a large Noah's basket. He took a few steps closer not knowing what to expect. What he saw truly shocked him.

It was a Noah's basket, complete with Baby. John stares for a long moment completely shell shocked (and he knew what the felt like). The baby had blue eyes and a splattering of dark brown hair. It also had very prominent cupid bow lips like those John had never before seen on a baby. John looked it over, healthy, well fed, two months old his doctors training told him. The baby blinked up at him blowing tiny bubbles out of the corner of his mouth as it's podgy legs kicked up under the blankets.

There was a note lying onto of the blue blankets, scrawled and curvaceous handwriting said.

Dear Sherlock,

I am not the motherly type. Take care of him.

I.A.

"It's definitely his son." Mrs Hudson remarked. "Looks just like him."

"Yes. It is." John said.

"Oh Sherlock. You Bastard."

So this is where imagining what first time sex between John and Sherlock got me.

If you like it review it, or even better tell a friend.