Soldier without his Detective

Chapter 8

John and Sherlock were intertwined on top of John's bed. Kisses being pressed against Sherlock's back. They hadn't moved in a while. Just sharing the warmth they had been craving for months. John can feel Sherlock's breath begin to even out. He knows that he's about to drift off. John pulls back, lifting himself from the comfort of his boyfriend. Sherlock groans at the sudden loss of John, prompting a slap on his arse from the man. Sherlock lifts his head from the depths of the bed to look over at John.

John was looking down at him, a loving look across his face. His hand outstretched for Sherlock to take. Sherlock grumbled as he stood, still half way to sleep. John got to work. He moved around the swaying man and began to strip the bed. The sheets were moved to the side of the bed as he remade it. He turned and gave Sherlock a wide grin. He was met with a confused expression in the tired eyes. "Take my sheets home. Then, my sheets will smell like you; your sheets will smell like me." Sherlock crashed once again into John. Bringing them both down onto the fresh sheets. Suddenly, Sherlock was wide awake.

They spent all their time in bed together. Wrapped around each other. Sherlock's head was resting on John's clavicle, his hand on John's chest. The rest of his body was curled tightly around the length of John. They had fallen asleep in the embrace. Both only wearing a pair of pants. Their torsos were uncovered, the sheets trapping their legs as if binding them together.

They had been sleeping for a about an hour when John's eyes burst open. One arm tightening around the sleeping form. His other arm instinctively reached towards where his gun was stashed. Sherlock hums. A voice is heard in the dark. John can't see a thing. His arms moving slowly so not to be seen. "Calm down cap'. Only us." A wave of relief crashed over him. He placed his gun away. John had never been asleep when someone else entered. He was always the last to bed.

Sherlock shifted against his body. John knew he was waking. His hand raked through his cropped hair before he moved to run his fingers through Sherlock's hair. Slowly waking the man. He could hear the other men moving around the room. He almost laughs at the exasperated sound coming from Bill. "Cap' you up? I can't see shit. Need a light or summin'" John does start to laugh at this. A quiet, breathy laugh. He turns his head towards Sherlock and feels him nod against his neck. "Yeah go for it." He screws his eyes shut so he can adjust. Sherlock's face turns further into his neck to smother the sudden light.

Blinking away the spots in his vision, John looks at the man in his arms. Sherlock's face was slightly scrunched into John's body. His breath tickling John's neck. With a soft smile and his vision restored, John turns his head away. Near his bed, Bill and Sami are standing. They are catatonic. Mouths hanging against their knees. What? Why are - oh. "Uh, 'Lock. Hey, Sherlock, this is Sami and Bill. You, um, they spoke on the phone."

Sherlock's head finally raised. A loose smile playing on his lips. His curls fall in disarray. His neck was lined with purple marks and a few scrapes. The eyes that held so much knowledge, had become clouded through sleep and his relaxed state. He propped himself up using a hand on the centre of John's chest. "Pleasure to meet you." Sherlock extends one hand as he says this. They hesitantly took it. Eyes still fixed on him. Sherlock lays back down on John's chest, shuffling so that he got comfortable again. No one moves. They all look between each other. At least they shut their mouths. John was beginning to feel uncomfortable under their gaze.

"You two are bloody lucky I'm too blissed out to hit you. Stop staring!" The trance was broken immediately. Both the soldiers moved away quickly to get ready for bed. Next to him, Sherlock stiffens, his head lifting to look at John's face. They look into each other's eyes as the men move around the space. They stay like that for a while. Sherlock's gaze was unwavering. John's flickering around his face as he tries to work out what is going on in that funny old head.

The men settle and turn their attention back to John and Sherlock. Watching in fascination. Sherlock finally, after what feels like hours, moves. He leans down slightly, his lips grazing John's. Not full contact, only teasing. His hand moves to run through John's hair. He grips it tight when John tries to bring their lips together again. Holding his head firm. Sherlock begins to cover John's face and neck in light kisses. Only grazing his lips occasionally.

Sherlock's lips crash against John's. Drawing a moan from the captain's throat. Sherlock's fingers still tangled in the short hair. The passion is building between them. Sherlock shifts his body so he is no longer just on John's side, but completely covering him. Their mouths still locked. Another groan comes from John's chest, this time accompanied by a hum from Sherlock's.

Then John's alone. The contact is gone. He opens his eyes to see Sherlock sat up, looking down at him. A smirk pulling at his lips. Before John can do anything, Sherlock moves off him and stands at the side of the bed. "I hate you." Sherlock looks down at John and laughs at his expression before saying, "No you don't. Need the loo. Where is it?" John sits up, shifting the blankets and looking up at Sherlock. "No I'm not showing you. Piss yourself, messing with me like that." Sherlock just hums and picks up his discarded clothes from the floor. "John. Hurry up, or I'll get someone else to." Grumbling, John reaches for some clothes and pulls them on. Adjusting them slightly then standing before Sherlock. The smirk hadn't left Sherlock's mouth. A slight scowl forming on John's. With John in lead, they begin to walk to the toilets.

Sami and Bill turn to face each other. Both wide eyed. "What the hell was that?" They both break out into hysterics. Clutching their sides and wiping their eyes. "He got orders from a Civi." They were gasping for breath. Choked out words forming, trying to depict what they had just witnessed. It was bound to be something they never let John live down.