The Days After

The Blood-Stained Cloth

"Ahh. Ow ow ow." John and Sherlock sit next to each other on the black couch in 221 B, John peering over, slowly dabbing Sherlock's bleeding nose and split lip.

"Sorry about that, Sherlock. Its just...you let me grief for three long years. Three years! They were the most painfullest and worst years of my life. I was lost without you. Im sorry for reacting like that."

"No, no, no, don't you dare apologize. You did nothing wrong. I should have told you in some way that I was alive. I should have come back sooner. I shouldn't have even "died," but ️Moriarty was threatening to kill you, and I can't let that happen."

John's dabbing on Sherlock's lip came to a stop, his fingers lightly brushing over Sherlock's lower lip. They stared at each other for a few moments, just soaking the image of each other in, as John quietly said,

"You'd be lost without your blogger?"

A small smirk appeared on Sherlock's face.

"Obviously."

John's hands moved away from Sherlock's less bleeding nose and lip, and wrapped them around Sherlock's cheekbones. John pulled Sherlock towards him as he dipped in, meeting Sherlock's soft, lush lips with his own. Their lips blended together, melting into each other as perfection and love overtook their senses. Sherlock wrapped his arms around John's back, pulling him closer. John's tongue glided over Sherlock's split bottom lip, faintly tasting the irony taste of blood. Most people would find that disgusting, but to Sherlock, it was the most amusing thing he's done in a while. Sherlock obliged as the kiss deepened, and the two men pulled each other as close as humanly possible. During the kiss, Sherlock slowly leaned forward into John, till he was on top of him, John laying back first on the black couch. John smiled into the kiss, his left hand tracing the outline of Sherlock's beautiful cheekbone as the right hand reached up to tangle in Sherlock's rich, dark curls. Sherlock hummed in content. John smiled more as the consulting detective began to slow down the kiss a bit and shifted his lips off of John's till they began to plant small, feather light kisses on John's neck. John's head fell back out of instinct to allow Sherlock more places to kiss. Sherlock happily obliged, kissing every single space on John's neck. Sherlock was sure of that; he was a high-functioning sociopath after all. When Sherlock's lips lightly glided over the spot right above John's collarbone, John softly moaned as that was a very sensitive spot for him. Sherlock obviously heard and teased John in that spot, sounding a few sighs, gasps, and soft moans from the army doctor. Sherlock made a note of that sound and spot in his "hard drive." John, hands now sliding down Sherlock's back, captured Sherlock's lips back into a gentle kiss that would soon turn very vicious. His hands found the end of Sherlock's purple shirt of sex, and began to snake his way up his shirt, feeling Sherlock's smooth, pale skin underneath his hands. John traced small circles in Sherlock's skin, causing him to gasp deeply in their kiss. That gasp, that one, deep, rich, velvety, sexy gasp was the thing that turned John on at the moment. John looked up into Sherlock's now opening eyes the color of galaxies, a small blush appearing on Sherlock's pale cheeks. John just stared for a few moments, feeling the urge and want of him overriding his entire system and train of thought. After torturing himself for a few seconds, John just smirked a tiny bit and attacked Sherlock in a crashing snog, stealing Sherlock's as well as his own breath away. John's fingers pressed into Sherlock's back pushing their bodies together as much as possible. Sherlock's hands cupped John's cheeks, pulling him deeper and deeper into the vicious kiss. Their tongues battled for dominance as their hips slowly began to roll and thrust into each other, causing both men to gasp in desire and need for one another. John squirmed under Sherlock, as his need and want for Sherlock grew too much for him. John began to moan, louder and louder as his need and want for Sherlock became almost unbearable despite how close they were pressed against each other. To Sherlock, John's moans and desperate gasps was the sexiest thing he has ever heard and triggered a devious idea in his mind. Knowing how much it would torture John as much as himself, Sherlock once again began his decent on John's neck, slowly, carefully placing light kisses. When getting to the neck of John's jumper, Sherlock's hands snaked up John's shirt, sliding it off of John from underneath. John, being teased when being so desperately needy at the moment, moaned even louder, gasping a few "Sher-sh-sh-sh-Sherlock-ugggg" and a few "Jesus, Sherlock."

Sherlock just smirked and continued to kiss his way down John's chest. When Sherlock got to John's waistband, he stopped kissing and looked up at John.

"You sure? I just want you to be happy and comfortable. If I go too far, just let me know. So, I ask again, love, are you 100% sure with this?"

John looked down at Sherlock, their eyes locking into one another's. John took a second and then made his reply.

"Oh. God. Yes."