We decide to stay on in Prague for the holidays and for the first time in my life I am happy. The love of you, dearest John and Mary keeps me safe, makes me whole. A fear, a premonition claws at my sub-conscious like an evil bird of prey. I ignore it. When I shiver you hold me tighter.
"Sherlock, what is it?" You ask in concern as you push a damp lock of hair out of my eyes.
"I'm fine, John," I lie as my fingers trace the scar. The round scar that almost took you from me before I laid eyes on you at St. Bart's. "It is the gunshot wound from a war that will never be won." I mutter to myself.
You take my head between your palms and kiss me deeply. My body is a slave to your touch. My desire is betrayed by the tension that builds in my groin.
"Well, well it looks like someone is happy to see someone," Mary says as she winks at me.
My face flushes. "Whatever do you mean?" I say as Mary laughs.
She then jumps on the bed and begins to wrestle with me. "Oh yeah, then what's this?" Mary asks as she playfully reaches her hand underneath the sheet.
I love Mary but I'm still not comfortable with showing her the depth of my desire for John. She rolls her eyes, kisses me and then John. "I'm going for a morning run. Then I'm going to get my hair done and buy an outrageously priced dress for the opera tonight. What color should it be?"
You are distracted by the touch of my thigh against yours. "Red you blurt out."
You rub your hand further up my thigh until I gasp. "John, not red. The dress should be midnight blue, to match her lovely eyes."
Mary smiles again. She looks like a cat. "I'm going to be gone all day, you two enjoy yourselves."
Her perfume lingers in the air for a moment after she is gone and I wonder why I feel bereft. The thought soon leaves me as your skilled surgeon's hands probe in all the right places. I lean back in silence and enjoy the skill of your fingers as they bring me to bear. "Sherlock," you whisper. "I want to try something new."
I dig my heels into the sheet so that I can focus on my words. "What do you want to try, John Hamish Watson?"
You smile into my eyes as you kiss my cheek. "I want you to top me."
My whole body tenses and not in a good way. "Absolutely not I'm a bottom."
You trace the line of my jaw. "You strike me as versatile. I want to feel you, Sherlock."
I shake my head. "I don't want to hurt you."
You lean back and laugh. "Since when have you cared about hurting me? You know splat, there goes Sherlock from the top of St. Bart's."
I pull away from you. "This is different."
"Please Sherlock", you say as you pull out our props from the nightstand beside the bed. I shudder with desire as I watch you prepare.
When you are done preparing us both, you slide underneath me, wrapping your legs around my waist. "Is this how you want me, Sherlock?"
I am overcome as I move your legs back to your shoulders, flexing them at a 45-degree angle to your body. I then kiss the round scar on your shoulder. My hands wander over your chest and stomach, delighting in the way you respond. You guide me, so that my entrance into the warmth of your body seems effortless. You clamp around me.
"John, you need to relax," I say as I wince at the tight pressure that restricts my movements. I then kiss you and talk to you in French. Then the pressure eases up freeing us both. Our bodies move together like the well-oiled pistons of a fine automobile. I plunge, you push, uniting as one. You call my name and then I call yours. Our releases are so closely timed that we both shudder and moan simultaneously.
Afterwards I lay in your arms, my body won't stop shaking from the adrenaline rush. "John, did I hurt you?" I stutter.
"Sherlock, it's okay I'm fine. You didn't hurt me. In fact, I have never experienced anything so marvelous in my entire life." You say as you stroke my quivering limbs into submission. "I want to be sore when we go to the opera tonight, so that every time I shift in my chair from boredom I will think of you."
I sit up and then tear off the covers. "So, I did hurt you?" I ask as I inspect you for damage.
You laugh. "Sherlock, you have no boundaries do you? Stop rooting around my anus like a dog. I'm fine."
You always bring out the playful side of me John. I bounce to the side, bark and lick your cheek. For a moment or two we wrestle. Then you pin me down on the bed. "Mr. Holmes, are you ready for another round."
I grin. "Indubitably my dear Doctor, indubitably."
A few hours later you and I stand in front of the mirror admiring each other in our tuxes. Mary comes up behind us. "You both look so handsome," She says as she kisses your neck and then mine. I blush as Mary smiles. "You are so cute when you blush, Sherlock."
You stand back and look at me. "Yes, he certainly does."
I grab Mary's black eye liner pencil off the counter and rim my eyes. "Very sexy, it brings out your eyes," you say.
Mary winks at me. "Yes, it does."
All heads turn as we exit the elevator and enter the hotel lobby. We are a striking trio. My heart feels light and I struggle to banish the thought that rolls around in my thoughts. "Nothing lasts forever, don't get too comfortable. All hearts are broken. All lives end."
