A/N: SO SORRY for the extremely long, ridiculous disappearance. To make up for it, this chapter has sex. This will be finished, I promise. Soon. In the meantime, I'm writing more. Another family-type story is over on my AO3. Go check it out!

Epilogue: Four Years Later

"After today, I am done."

"Until graduation."

"Right. Two weeks off, then graduation, then the first year med student summer lecture course."

Sherlock scowls at his bowl of cereal. He is so tired of hearing about that stupid course. It just means that John's future is beginning, or carrying on, and his is at a standstill.

But he's stopped complaining about that. He's even more tired of hearing 'Well you shouldn't have quit school.' or 'It's not too late to go back.' or his least favorite, from his dad and uncles and aunt, 'One call and you can be in any school you want by the fall.'

Even more than not wanting to go back, he doesn't want it handed to him. He doesn't want anyone to make a call. He wants it to be his own choice and he actually wants to work for it himself.

He just isn't sure if he'll ever be ready. He's always hated school. Uni hasn't been any different.

"Any more cases lately?" John asks.

Sherlock hasn't even checked the website in days. Last he checked, the inbox was not bursting, so he didn't even care to continue to check.

He pulls his laptop in from of himself and opens it up. Between spoonfulls of cereal, he connects to his website and clicks on the messages folder.

There are three. Skimming the paragraphs, they all seem like threes, at most, and none are more interesting than stolen possessions.

"Anything?" John asks.

Sherlock shakes his head.

"Well, something will come up."

Sherlock shrugs.

John gets out of his chair and takes his bowl to the sink. He silently steps behind Sherlock and digs his fingers into Sherlock's hair.

Sherlock twitches in shock. Not only did John startle him just a bit, but they haven't been physical in months. Not even simple touching like this; they hardly even kiss. John claims he's been too stressed about school, but Sherlock hasn't minded this change that much. He hasn't felt like being intimate or close. There's been a black cloud hanging over him and it's as though he doesn't want it to cover John. He's been purposefully pushing John away.

But John's fingers gliding through his messy curls feels good. It's a welcomed surprise. He tilts his head forward to let John message the back of his head.

"What do you say we go celebrate tonight?" John asks in a near whisper, his voice low and deep and…sexy, Sherlock might say.

"I'll be stress free for the first time in months, you don't have any interested cases on. I'd like to wine you, dine you, perhaps…" John leans down and lightly mouths on the nape of Sherlock's neck.

Sherlock shivers and goosebumps raise on his skin. What's been dormant for nearly four months is waking and every stroke of John's fingertips over his sensitive scalp is sending small quakes down to his groin.

John pulls Sherlock's hair until his head falls over, his neck exposed. John trails his tongue over the strained tendons standing out on Sherlock's neck, then he clamps his teeth down where shoulder meets neck and sucks hard.

A low moan can't be suppressed. Sherlock bites his lip to keep the other noises in.

"Maybe we can skip dinner and I'll just come straight home. I'll find you in the lab and I'll pull you away from an experiment to fuck you like I've wanted to for months. Maybe I'll do you right there in the lab. I'll just drop your pants and suck you off against the bench."

John's words are filthy in Sherlock's ear. John's tongue is hot probing Sherlock's ear.

"It seems like you've been out of reach these past four months," John continues. "It's like you've been far away and I couldn't touch you. I want to bring you back."

Sherlock reaches up to grab John's head. John lets himself be held and continues licking and sucking at Sherlock's skin.

"How should I do that?" John asks. "Like this?"

Sherlock's cock wasn't hard before, just stirring a bit from its lately sleeping state, but when John reaches down and grabs him suddenly, all blood rushes south. Sherlock groans and John squeezes his balls, making his cock fill more.

Sherlock suddenly wants John more than he's ever wanted John. He can't let John leave this house until they're both marked with each other's scent. The thought is agonizing. He needs John now.

He stands so quickly that John jumps back. Sherlock just crowds John against the sink.

"Baby," John mutters, "We don't have to now, I was just letting you know that I'm ready to—"

"No," Sherlock stops him. "Now."

Sherlock slips his pajama bottoms off and John rips Sherlock's shirt over his head. Knowing John wants this too is good to Sherlock, stopping because John doesn't want to would probably kill him.

Sherlock wants John here, against the counter. He spreads his legs a bit and leans against John so his cock is brushing against John's.

"Oh god, Sherlock…"

Sherlock begins to move his hips against John. His eyes fall closed and his head falls forward to capture John's lips between his teeth.

John moans, humping against Sherlock too. He doesn't complain that his cock is still trapped in his jeans, but Sherlock knows he must be aching.

Sherlock wants more, too. More than this. They haven't had sex in months, but he needs John with every fiber of his being.

He steps back and away from John, darting towards their bedroom before calling to John to take his jeans off.

When he returns, he's got a bottle of lube. John grins and starts to unbutton his shirt, too.

Sherlock crowds against John again and this time pours lube onto his hand, enough for the both of them. He gets both of their cocks in a loose fist and begins to stroke instantly. He doesn't have time for a tease or working up to it, he dives right in with fucking them both.

John moans into his mouth and Sherlock licks up each sound. It's sexy. He feels hotter than he's felt in a long time. He's ready to burst.

But there's still something missing. He wants John closer, closer than this.

He hitches a leg up so far for his knee to be caught on the countertop. He thrusts against John, his cock slipping through his hand and pumping against John's sweetly.

"Give me your hand," Sherlock pants, and John lifts his hand obediently.

Sherlock pours a dollop of lube on John's fingers and John instantly understands, thank goodness. He reaches behind Sherlock and swipes the fingers over his exposed hole, then –without teasing, because they're way past that point—pushes one in.

Sherlock's body sings. It's finally awake, and Sherlock knows he needs to be filled.

John gets two fingers in very soon and simply holds his hand still, letting the pumping of Sherlock's hips drive his fingers in and out. Sherlock loves the feeling, there's just enough of John all over him that he feels like it's already made up for lost time.

A few thrusts of fingers against his prostate and the hand on his cock and Sherlock comes against John's belly is thick ropes. John follows seconds later, grunting harshly in Sherlock's face and mixing his seed with Sherlock's.

Sherlock winces as he lowers his leg, but John doesn't remove his fingers.

"Uh…" Sherlock mumbles. "John?"

John wiggles his fingers, sending shocks over Sherlock's sensitive body. "Sorry," he says. "I just…this feels so good."

Sherlock wraps his arms around John's neck and kisses him lightly. "Agreed," he replies, keeping his legs spread.

"I really do have to go," John says. "I am so late."

"You're the one not moving your hand from out of my arse."

John chuckles and slowly retreats his fingers. "Let's take a shower really fast. I have an hour before I need to be at my final."

Sherlock grins. "We can get up to much more before you have to go."

John smiles back. "Let's get going, then."