Archive of Our Own ^beta

„Where are you, John?“ He couldn’t sense him, someone, something, at all.
It was eerily quiet. He wasn’t able to hear anything, see anything, say a word or even smell anything. They had filled his ears with some kind of foam, taped his eyes and mouth and smeared mint under his nose. He was tied up, as well. His wrists were bound on his lower back, he felt something rough around his neck and his neck was tethered to something.
But he was still standing. He had tried to sit but the thing around his neck was too short to let him sit on the ground. His legs were sore and he was close to cramping.
And nothing had happened so far.

***

“Where are you, Sherlock?” No violin, no hazardous experiments, no left-overs to rot on plates all over the place.
It was too quiet in the flat. He missed him, his flatmate, his best friend. Every few minutes he looked at his mobile for new messages, even though he would have heard the dinging. Even his brother Mycroft didn’t call with news. Not to mention Greg.
He was worried about him. He had been gone for two days now. After one day missing he started to worry already but was told it was rather normal for Sherlock to stay away when being on a case.
But he hadn’t just been on a case, had he? They were together, following a trace Sherlock had found. And then, suddenly, Sherlock had abandoned him. He just told him he needed to check on something and gone he was.
Of course John had tried to follow him but had lost him soon enough. Sherlock had the advantage to know every single street, corner and rotten place in the greater London area. He just vanished and John was left behind.

***

Sherlock wondered if he was being watched. Or if they, whoever they were, waited for him to fall and hang himself. That would make a fantastic film on youtube. Or was it Moriarty again? For once Sherlock had no idea.
He shifted again. His soles hurt and his legs kept cramping again and again. He had also been forced to wet himself. He stood there for so long, it had already dried again.
Suddenly a flat hand pushed him against the wall behind him. He groaned behind the tape. Against all instincts he tried to shake it off. Then he was smacked in the face and it burnt and felt hot. He almost sagged but made it.
The hand now was pressed against his forehead and held him completely still. He felt something poke into his ear and the filling plopped out. The other ear followed suit. The hand disappeared and Sherlock stood still.
“Nod, if you can hear me.” Sherlock obediently nodded.
“Well, we believe you might be pliable enough by now. We will feed you, if you behave. Will you behave, Mr Holmes?” He nodded again. He was hungry. He also was thirsty.
He felt something move by his neck and then he was pulled forward. He slumped through the darkness. Soon he was forced down on a chair. He relaxed. But them someone started to peel off the tape from around his head over his mouth and eyes. It hurt and he twitched and groaned. Loads of hair as well as facial hair had been caught behind it.
“Behave!” The voice said and he got hit again. He did, at least he tried very hard. Then they took off the rope around his wrists.
The light was harsh and he turned his head away when they targeted his face with a bright shining lamp. He was handed a piece of bread and a glass of water which he both took and devoured. But he did it slowly, he knew that much, of course.
He tried not to look at the men standing by his side. He didn’t want to take the risk.
When he was done with the bread he carefully looked at the table. One hand shoved a basket with more bread over and he took some. And when he was done, his eyes drooped. Had something been in the water? He didn’t know and right now he also didn’t care.

***

Mycroft had called John and asked him over into his office at the Diogenes Club. John already knew that place because he had been summoned there before. Sherlock’s brother didn’t tell him what he wanted but he never did. So John just stood at the curb at Baker Street and waited to be picked up.
Today it was only the driver and no Anthea in the back typing on her mobile. Somehow he missed something.
He entered the club through the back-door and walked directly into Mycroft’s office. For a moment the two men just looked at each other and then Mycroft offered him a drink.
“Thanks, Mycroft. What’s wrong?” He was handed his drink.
“Why would something be wrong, John?” John sadly smiled.
“You wouldn’t offer me a drink at this hour if something wasn’t wrong. So?” Mycroft leant against the table in front of John.
“The time with my brother taught you some deducing, am I right?”
“Quite right, Mycroft.” John sipped his drink and looked up expectantly.
“Well, John. My men have been busy tracking Sherlock and following some hints. It looks like it isn’t Moriarty this time.”
“But he wasn’t on any case lately, nothing big at all. So who is behind this?”
“From what I have found out there are Russians involved. I don’t know why though.” John looked shocked.
“You don’t know why? You?” He sipped some more.
“I don’t know everything, John. No matter what my brother might have told you, I am not some evil ancient knowing-all God.” John grinned a bit lopsided.
“What are you going to do now? What can I do to help?” Mycroft sighed.
“Nothing, I am afraid you can do nothing to help. We have to be more than careful with these people. They are more dangerous than Moriarty ever was. You have to trust me, John.”
“I do trust you, Mycroft. But you have to keep in touch, please?” He nodded.
“Of course, John. I’ll keep you informed.”
“I guess they didn’t ask for ransom, did they?” Mycroft shook his head.
“No, I haven’t been contacted at all. Everything I found out came over CCTV or his homeless network. He has vanished. He even could be out of the country by now. I am sorry, John, I can’t tell you more. Please be patient.”
“I try.” He finished his drink and stood. John felt the need for comfort and something must have shown in his eyes because Mycroft made at least the attempt and gave John a careful hug.
“Thank you.” Mycroft just nodded and John left.

***

Sherlock was swaying on the chair watched by the men standing by his side. They looked at each other and one nodded. A hood was pulled over Sherlock’s head and he didn’t even twitch. They didn’t bind his hands but led him away from that table.
He was too exhausted to note anything on his way. A few minutes later they stopped and he was hit on the neck. He woke up again.
“You may take the hood off. You may rest. We’ll pick you up tomorrow.” Then a door banged. Sherlock needed a bit to process but then took the hood and pulled it over his head. He stood in a bare room which only contained a cot with a pillow and a blanket. There was nothing else except for a bucket with lid in the far corner and a bottle of water by his cot. Looking closer he also found some chocolate bars.
He felt cold and rubbed over his arms. His coat and jacket were gone. He only wore his dress-shirt. He ate a bar and then moved under the blanket. He rolled on his side facing the wall. He thought of John and Mycroft; but more of John.
Would he miss him? He missed him. He closed his eyes and thought of tea with milk.

***

Sherlock was watched all the time. A man stood in front of the monitor and looked at his sleeping figure under the blanket. Another man joined him.
“So, Mikail, what do you think?” The man called Mikail tilted his head.
“I think, if we give him the opportunity to wash himself he will do something for us. We need to establish an exchange programme. Goods, food and water for his work.”
“Jim told me he would act stubborn and stupid.”
“Well, Oleg, he didn’t, did he? Probably this Jim guy did it wrong.” Oleg giggled.
“Oh, don’t ever tell him. He might show up and you are a dead man.”
“I think we scared him because of shutting him off. He was robbed of all his senses for quite some time; he pissed himself and was starved and thirsty. He was pliable.”
“Yes, you are right. So you think we should keep that up and make him do what we want.”
“Absolutely. We will repeat this treatment again and again until he does what we want.”
“And if he doesn’t behave we will hurt him, too, during the process.” Both men grinned and looked at the sleeping man. They had some ideas.

***

In the meantime John paced holes into the carpet and hardwood. He often stood in front of the window and looked outside. He looked to the left and right and hoped to see Sherlock coming along. He hoped to see anything leading him to his best friend.
One morning Mrs Hudson wanted to wake him because Mycroft had arrived and found him in Sherlock’s bed. He was half buried beneath the pillows and the blanket. It was the first night after Sherlock had disappeared that he slept without any nightmares.
No one commented on it.
John rubbed his tired eyes and just sat up against the headrest. Mycroft understood very well and sat in the desk-chair. Mrs Hudson brought tea and left again. She knew John would tell her anyway.
“So? Any news, Mycroft?”
“Yes, sort of.” They looked at each other and John stopped moving at all.
“Pray tell me!” John almost mocked him but he made him grin, too.
“You’ve spent too much time with my dear brother, John. Anyway, someone told us that the Russians really are behind this. And you won’t believe me who told us.” Mycroft looked almost excited.
“Bloody hell, Mycroft!” John shouted into his face.
“James Moriarty called me this morning on my private line at home. No one has this number except for a few very important people. Somehow he got it, too. And he told me that he missed Sherlock and he wanted him back.”
“So he tipped you off?” Mycroft nodded.
“Yes, indeed. He had some ideas where they could hold him captive and even offered his help or send his best minion to assist us.”
“Did you take him serious?”
“Yes, I did. I checked the proof he gave me. It could really be.”
“What proof?” Mycroft cleared his throat and reached into his pocket. And then John looked at a small bag containing white powder.

***

The next morning Oleg burst into the room Sherlock was sleeping in and rudely woke him up. He shook him awake by strands of his hair and tears fell freely down his cheek. He forced him on his knees.
“Listen to me, Mr Holmes. We want you to create a new drug for us. Cheap and easy to produce. We know you are capable of doing it. If you deny us, we will torture and starve you. So just don’t.” And he shook him some more.
“What if I do help you?” Sherlock asked roughly.
“We will feed you and let you take a shower, let you use a proper bathroom.”
“Proper clothes?”
“After the first sample.”
“Lab?”
“I’ll show you.” Sherlock stood but asked hesitantly:
“Please, may I …” He pointed over to the bucket and the man pulled a face.
“OK, you said please. Come on. Bathroom.” Sherlock was glad. And he was thankful. He was pushed into the bath and used the loo. He splashed some water into his face to wake up properly. He knew he was smelly but he wasn’t able to help it.
Then he was shown into a proper lab and he looked around.
“On the tablet over there you find all the information you need to start. We will lock you in. Someone will bring you food. We want a first result by tonight.” Sherlock nodded and turned away to start working.
They watched him over the monitor and found nothing suspicious. But he was Sherlock and he produced something really nasty.
They gave it to a lab rat which exploded right into their faces. Sherlock had hoped to take off then but he was stopped by Mikail who was real fast. He threw him on a table and turned his arm up all the way making him scream.
“That wasn’t very smart but somehow expected. Well, bear the consequences, Mr Holmes.” He forced him into the basement into a cold and wet room. He stripped him naked and then Oleg held him down. They cuffed his ankles and wrists, put a collar around his neck and a rope from a ring in the wall to his collar. He could only stand. He knew what was coming up again and he started to beg.
“No, please. I promise I’ll behave. Don’t shut me off!” But they showed no mercy. This was punishment and they needed to show him they were serious. So they smacked his face hard and then taped it over again. The foam came back into his ears and the mint under his nose, too.
They waited for hours until they started to poke and hit him. They left him again and returned after ten minutes. They repeated the process for almost one full day and Sherlock was getting mad.
Several times they used a hose and cold water. He was shivering and almost slipped when he shifted.
Later they smacked and poked him again until he constantly cried and swayed. And then they brought him into a nice, warm and comfy room. After they got everything off of him he just fell down and lost his consciousness. Mikail caught him and dropped him on the bed.
Sherlock woke dirty as he was but free of all cuffs, ropes and tape. He found water and bread. He took some and then sat against the wall hugging his knees and swaying back and forth.

***

John entered 221B. It was all dark. Mrs Hudson was away visiting her sister on the countryside. Slowly he climbed upstairs. When he wanted to open the door to their flat he sensed that something was wrong. He smelled something which didn’t belong here. He shook his head and opened the door.
His eyes widened. A fire was burning and it illuminated the place. The door fell close behind him and he wished he had his gun with him.
“Johnny-boy! There you are! You kept me waiting!” The cheery sing-song voice he would have recognised everywhere. He stood as if nailed to the ground. He needed a few minutes until he was able to breathe properly again. Then he cleared his throat.
“Moriarty, what do you want?” The man quickly stood and moved up to him. John froze when Jim’s eyes bore into his.
“I want the same you do. Sherlock. I want Sherlock back.”
“Why?” Jim thinly smiled and for a second lowered his gaze.
“Because he is my favourite plaything.” John’s chin came up.
“He is no plaything!” Moriarty tilted his head and grinned openly.
“Jealous, Johnny-boy?” John stared into his eyes and his lips stood open.
“No. And don’t call me Johnny-boy.” They kept staring at each other until Moriarty threw up his arms and moved to the side.
“Boring! God, Johnny-boy, what’s wrong with you?” John sensed some uneasiness.
“You know exactly what’s wrong. Jimmy.” A smug smile appeared on John’s lips when he saw Moriarty’s eyes widen.
“OK. You want honesty. Well then.” Moriarty sighed and started to walk back and forth in front of John.
“I’d appreciate it, yes.” Moriarty stopped in front of John again and looked at him. John looked back.
“I admit that I miss him. He is the only one worthy enough to deal with me. I can’t stand all the other imbeciles.” John tilted his head.
“No offence, Johnny-boy.” John thinly smiled.
“No offence taken, Jimmy.” Suddenly Moriarty snatched John’s arms.
“I want him fucking back!” He almost snarled and John’s instincts took over. He quickly moved his arms outwards, grabbed into the fabric of Moriarty’s jacket and kicked his leg outward. The dark brown eyes widened in surprise when he was turned and ended up beneath John on the sofa.
“Whoa! Sebby didn’t exaggerate!” John pushed down on him some more.
“Shut the fuck up, you bitch! I know you gave Myc some damn drugs. What did it mean? What do you know?” John’s strong hands held Moriarty’s wrists down on the sofa. His muscular legs caged him in. The tip of his nose touched Moriarty’s whose lips stood open.
Suddenly John felt him relax. He closed his eyes and stretched his neck, no, he stretched his whole body.
“Make me tell you, Johnny-boy …” His voice was suddenly all husky and John was irritated.
“What?” But he kept holding him down.
“Please? Pretty please?” He moved his body beneath John’s and rubbed his raging hard-on against John’s groin. John let go of him and got off the sofa as if touched by something monstrous and ghastly.
“Don’t!” He stood there panting and looking down at Moriarty who slowly rolled on his side. And he was pouting.
“Well, it was worth a try, wasn’t it?” Then he just stood and straightened his clothes. Back to business then.
“So? Fucking talk to me, Jimmy.” He twitched when John called him Jimmy. John saw it and had to grin. And then he turned around and started to make tea.
Moriarty was surprised but slowly followed him into the kitchen.
“Where did you leave Sebastian?” John quietly asked switching the kettle on. Moriarty raised his brows but grinned.
“He didn’t want me to come here, so I made him stay.” John looked up.
“You? You made him stay? How?” Moriarty just tilted his head and John got it.
“Oh … Yes, well.” He cleared his throat when remembering some fantastic times he had had with that guy in Helmand.
They ended up on the sofa with tea and cookies. Moriarty devoured one cookie after the other.
“These are fucking great. Where did you buy them?” John looked up.
“I didn’t. I baked them. I always bake them for Sherlock. He loves them.” He sounded so sad. Moriarty sipped some more tea and turned to John again. Seriously now.
“OK, listen to me, John. I gave big brother the drug to proof that I know something. The Russians took Sherlock to force him into producing a drug for him.”
“Do you know where he is?” Slowly Moriarty nodded.
“Yes, I do. They already offered me a sample.” John raised a brow.
“Do you know if he is …” John swallowed and had to close his eyes.
“I know they forced him into this. I don’t know any details. But I think we have to be quick.”
“We?” Moriarty nodded.
“I am offering my help here. You know the law isn’t exactly successful in dealing with the Russian mob. And even big brother isn’t capable of dealing like he wants to. I, on the other hand, can do whatever I want. I know you wouldn’t stay behind. So it’s an operation the two of us will handle. I provide weapons and everything. I will join you. Sebby will join us because I am joining you.” He shook his head.
“Whatever. Do you agree?” John looked at him for a second and then finally nodded.
“What about Mycroft? May I tell him?” Moriarty grinned and swirled his finger through the air.
“He already knows, I assume. He will probably appear in about ten minutes or less.”
“You think?” Moriarty nodded. Five minutes later more tea was ready and the door was pushed open by a serious looking Mycroft Holmes.
“This is insane.” Mycroft said and sat down on Sherlock’s armchair. He was handed tea and cookies.
“Why?” John asked and Moriarty started to clean his fingernails.
“What do you want in exchange?” Mycroft asked and made Moriarty look up again. He slowly shook his head.
“Nothing. I want nothing in exchange. I just want Sherlock back into the game. Nothing else.” Mycroft looked at him for a while and Moriarty just looked back. John looked between the two and finally sighed.
“Jim, do you need Myc to provide anything?” Surprised Moriarty looked up but slowly shook his head.
“Not really, only backup when we march in.” Mycroft was equally surprised and looked at John.
“Are you sure about this, John?” John nodded.
“Absolutely. I am going in. I am absolutely capable of this rescuing mission.” Mycroft very thinly smiled thinking of John’s army files which weren’t very official. He had been doing several black ops together with Colonel Moran in their times.
“I know that.” He turned back to Moriarty then.
“I assume you will be providing weapons which can’t be traced back to us?” Moriarty nodded.
“Oh, absolutely. Myc.” He grinned.
“Let me know, OK? Just let me know. Jimmy.” Mycroft winked at him, swirled his umbrella and left.
“That went easy.” John looked at the closed door and Moriarty stepped up to him.
“I expected nothing else.”
“Huh.” John turned away and looked at Moriarty.
“Would you like a drink, Jimmy? We can talk about the mission. I am sure you are already having a plan in your mind.”
“Of course I do.” John expectantly looked at him. Then he just once shook his head.
“So?”
“Stop calling me Jimmy.” John grinned and then sighed.
“Listen, Jim. James. Mr Moriarty, Sir. You may call me whatever name you want. I only want Sherlock back.”
“Just don’t call me Jimmy, OK?” They sat on the sofa again and John poured drinks. Moriarty explained.
“I will just march in and pick up the drug. I offer a bunch of money for some time alone with Sherlock. Everybody knows I am after him, so they won’t find this wish suspicious.”
“How do you want to set him free?”
“I will have Sebastian create a ruckus outside. You will move in, find me and Sherlock and then we will leave.” He just shrugged and sipped his drink.
“However will I be able to track you down inside a building?”
“Oh dear mother of God! However were you able to do black ops? John! GPS! Just think!” John twitched when he was strongly reminded of Sherlock.
“Won’t they search you?”
“Of course they will search me. But it’s implanted under my skin.”
“When?” John sipped some more.
“Tomorrow evening. Sebastian will pick you up by the corner of Regents Park. Be ready at seven. You will be home at eight with Sherlock.” John sadly smiled.
“Will Sebby bring the weapons?” Moriarty’s eyes slanted.
“Why do you call him Sebby?” John shrugged.
“I always did. Why? Jealous?” John grinned.
“Do I have to?” John sadly smiled.
“You should know that, you know?”

***

They kept torturing Sherlock just to keep him in line. They repeated the silent treatment several times while he was producing the drug for them. Just for good measure they threatened him with rape and castration, too. He was wearing a tight gag all the time.
He had lost enough weight to weaken him. When he wasn’t in the lab working for them, he was tied to a wall in the basement. He had no idea how many days had passed. He hadn’t seen the daylight for a very long time. His will to fight was completely erased. He did what they wanted. He was scared.
He didn’t want to be raped or even castrated before … Before what? Would he even see him ever again? John. Why didn’t he come? Where these Russians that good? And Myc. What was a big brother good for? Or maybe he wasn’t even in England anymore?
He sighed behind the gag. One time he had tried to get rid of it. Afterwards they had put a collar on him which could send electric shocks through his body. There was also a ring around his cock and balls which did the same.
After the first and last time he had tried to dirty the drug they had restrained him with arms and legs crossed to wooden bars and shocked him. He had pissed and voided his bowels. They left him behind, crying, dirty, cold and in shock.
He felt it took hours for them to return and use a hose with cold water on him. Then they showed him a nasty knife and threatened him with final circumcision. Since then he only slumped into the lab, produced their drug and slumped back. And he kept waiting. The only thing they couldn’t take from him was his hope. Couldn’t they?
And then it happened. He was able to hear gunshots. Many gunshots. One guy, Oleg it was, took him and forced him back into the basement. He pushed him behind the bars and took off. Sherlock moved back against the wall. And he waited. And he waited.

***

John was ready the next day. He was clad in black when being picked up by Sebastian Moran at the corner of Regents Park. A last text came from Mycroft.

“Be careful. Sherlock will need you.”
MH

John had to smile and then climbed into the car by Sebastian’s side. He looked at him.
“Hey, big guy.” Sebastian smiled and drove off.
“John. Captain. I wish the circumstances were different.”
“I wish you weren’t working for him.”
“I bet you wish for nothing else later.”
They rode for a while in silence. John didn’t ask questions. He soon would know anyway. He only wondered where Moriarty was.
“We will pick up James in a minute. He trusts you, John. And I do wonder why. But anyway.”
“What weapons did you bring?” That made Sebastian smile.
“You’ll see.
“Please don’t act relentless, will you? I want Sherlock back.”
“So does James. Don’t worry, John. And there we are.” They stopped in front of a beautiful cottage in the countryside and Sebastian once honked. A minute later James Moriarty left the building carrying several machine guns in his arms. John raised his brows.
Sebastian got out of the car and opened the back for his boss. They looked at each other and silent communication followed.
“John, hallo. I hope you are in the mood?” John looked at him.
“You have no idea …” He only muttered it but it made Sebastian shiver.
“Hurry up then, Sebby.” They rode back to London but stopped by some industrial estate at the edge. Sebastian hid the car and they left. Moriarty left his jacket behind and changed his dress-shirt to a black tee.
“Boss. Shoes.” Sebastian said and handed him some boots. John heard him sigh but he sat on a rock and toed off his dress-shoes. He already wore a pair of designer jeans and now stuck his feet into the boots. Sebastian knelt in front of him and he placed his foot on his thigh.
John watched them. The way Moriarty looked at Sebastian from above showed him something. Moriarty did like Moran. What a fucking surprise.
Sebastian got up again and took his hand helping him to his side. He lowered his head and whispered something into his ear. John saw Moriarty nod several times. And then they kissed. John sighed and shook his head.
Sebastian took one gun and handed it over to Moriarty. He gave John another one and finally took the last. More ammo was taken from the trunk. Moriarty turned to John.
“OK, change of plan. They denied me meeting Sherlock, they only offered drugs. So we have to go in there and take him. We know they are behind the door over there. We also know that only two guys called Oleg and Mikail are here now. They feel absolutely safe. Too safe.” Sebastian nodded.
“It’s find, shoot and kill for them. Whatever else you might see, John, just forget about it. Concentrate on Sherlock, please.”
“I am having no other intention, Sebby. Except for the killing. Let’s go.” They took Moriarty between them and Sebastian led the way. The door wasn’t even closed and he carefully and quietly pulled it open. A dim light was on and they walked through the aisle. Suddenly they heard voices speaking in Russian. Moriarty made them stop.
“Wait. Let me listen for a second.” John wasn’t surprised that Moriarty spoke Russian. Either way he already did before this or he learnt it just for this occasion. Suddenly James looked at him and tilted his head smiling. Then he continued to listen.
“They are talking about Sherlock. He has been taken downstairs in the basement. Locked in a cell.” Sebastian looked at John and John just nodded. Sebastian looked at Moriarty.
“James, you go and get Sherlock with John. I’ll take care of Mikhail. Follow him. Move!” Moriarty mock-saluted him but obeyed. John moved followed by Moriarty. He was able to hear Oleg opening a door and then there was his voice.
“I will be bringing your food and water. You should be more thankful, you know?” There was no reply. John quickly moved forward and stood in the door. He was able to see Sherlock and he was shocked. He was pale as death and thin as a bamboo stick. His hair was a greasy mess.
The guy Oleg was fumbling behind Sherlock’s head to take off the gag. John’s eyes slanted and he lifted his machine gun.

***

Sherlock sat on his cot and waited to be fed. He heard the door unlock and Oleg stepped inside. He cast his eyes and just waited. He was too weak. He also was too scared by now. He feared their treatment. He really did.
Had he imagined the gunshots from before? Why had his routine been broken? His time in the lab hadn’t been over. So why was he here? Now there weren’t any gunshots. Why? His hope shattered.
But then he suddenly smelled something very familiar. John. He was able to smell John. He also smelled someone else. Moriarty. Then he knew he was hallucinating because John and Moriarty together was an impossibility. But it was nice anyway.
Then he felt Oleg fumbling with his gag and he stilled all his movements as well as his breathing. He didn’t want to provoke him.
The smell was getting stronger but Oleg didn’t seem to notice. Sherlock let him take off the gag and his jaw cracked. His eyes were closed and he dreamed away enjoying the smell of John.
“Oh, he will be thankful soon enough, motherfucker.” Now there was John’s voice, too. Sherlock smiled.
“Yes, he will.” Now there was even the sing-song voice of Moriarty. Sherlock once shook his head. Then he was able to hear a silencer-muffled shot and he opened his eyes again. He looked right into Oleg’s breaking ones.
“Sherlock, look at me. Are you hurt?” Slowly he focused. It was John. Really John. What a wonderful dream. He smiled.
“He is in shock. Grab him and let’s move. Sebby should be done upstairs.” It was Moriarty. Sherlock looked to the side. There was Moriarty.
“Yes, honey, it’s me. No worries. Get up and go with John. Go!” He snarled at him and Sherlock tried to crawl into the wall.
“You are frightening him. Shut up, Jimmy.” Moriarty muttered some curses but watched the door when John knelt in front of Sherlock. He slowly reached for his hands.
“Sherlock, it’s me. John. Please talk to me. Say something.” John looked at him and saw his fear, his hunger and his hope.
“Hungry …” Very quietly and it made John smile.
“That’s probably the first time I am hearing that from you. I’ll cook whatever you want at home, do you understand? Let’s go.” He stood and tried to pull him up. Sherlock swayed on the spot and then fell down again. John just took him over his shoulder.
Suddenly they heard machine-gun fire from upstairs.
“Move, Jim. Now!” Moriarty only now showed his real skills. He moved and John followed. They met Sebastian upstairs.
“There are some more guys coming from upstairs. Let’s disappear. Jim to the back, I’ll take the front. John, stay between us with Sherlock. John just nodded and lifted his gun.
They shot some more people on their way out and finally John was able to place Sherlock in the car. He moved on the back-seat wit him. Sebastian moved behind the wheel and Moriarty took the passenger-seat. They raced away. Moriarty turned on his seat.
“How is he?” John was kneeling in front of the seat and carefully checking on Sherlock.
“He is scared to death, underfed and dehydrated. I can see no wounds right now but he is in shock.” John got rid of his jacket and placed it on Sherlock. Moriarty handed him a bottle of water. John tried to make Sherlock drink but some of it just ran over his chin. John had to hold the bottle for him and Sherlock’s hands were on John’s.
“Sherlock, do you hear me? You are safe now. We are going home.” His eye-lids fluttered and a smile turned his lips upwards.
“He does hear you, John.” Sebastian looked into the rear mirror and met John’s eyes. John looked up and smiled. Moriarty looked at Sebastian and gently placed his palm on his thigh.
“Did you get it?” Sebastian nodded.
“Yes. I also placed the C4 and set the timer. It should go up any second.” Then there was an explosion behind them which only made Sherlock twitch on the back-seat. John looked at Moriarty again.
“Just grant us some time after this, OK?” Moriarty tilted his head and looked at John.
“We will grant you the time you need, John. All the time. Don’t we, James?” Sebastian’s deep voice rumbled through the car and made Moriarty turn to him. He just nodded and it was enough for John.

***

The car stopped in front of 221B and John carefully pulled Sherlock out of the car.
“Do you need help, John?” Moriarty asked out of the window.
“If you could just open the doors for me, please?”
“Sure.” He really left the car and walked in front of John who handed over the keys. Then he tried to make Sherlock walk. He needed to hold him up but somehow they made it into the house. He had to carry him up the stairs though. Moriarty opened the door to his flat, too, and held it open.
“Anything else?” John placed Sherlock on the sofa and turned around.
“No, but thanks. I’ll check him through right away.” The quietness was a bit awkward now.
“I’ll leave you be now. I’ll be seeing you. Not soon.” He grinned and left.
“Thank you.” He saw him nodding, so he had heard him. John closed the door and turned to Sherlock who had managed to sit up. John hurried back.
“Sherlock, careful, please?” Sherlock reached out for him. His arm was shaking.
“John … This is real. I am not dreaming, am I? The dreams I had were so nice. It was always warm.” John knelt in front of him and took his hands.
“No, this isn’t a dream. You are safe now. We all ganged up to get you back.” They looked into each other’s eyes. John was able to see tears and for once they were real.
“Please …” He swallowed and John just waited. “Take it off. Please?” Of course John had seen the collar around his neck.
“I will take it off. But I have to be careful. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I don’t care. Cut it off, rip it off, it doesn’t matter if it hurts. I want it gone.” His breathing became erratic and his hands tried to grab John.
“I’ll get my stuff und take it off right now.” Sherlock’s eyes followed him when he collected his bag and the first-aid kit. He returned to the sofa and had a closer look at the collar.
“OK, I need you to take off your tee.” Sherlock nodded and tried to pull it over his head. John helped him and just threw it away. He right away binned it. Then he looked at Sherlock’s upper body. He felt cold and shocked. He was covered in bruises. Some old and some rather new. He swallowed. And then he changed into doctor modus. He disinfected his hands and moved his palms over Sherlock’s body. He was pliant beneath him.
“Does it hurt really bad somewhere?” He shook his head. John then concentrated on the collar and stuck his finger between the collar and Sherlock’s neck. He felt for cables but there were none. He unbuckled it and dropped it on the hardwood. His neck was red and sore.
“I need to clean your neck. It will hurt a bit. Can you hold still for me, please?” Sherlock just nodded. John filled a bowl with warm water and gently washed his neck. Sherlock closed his eyes.
“It doesn’t need a bandage. Fresh air will be just fine.” Sherlock opened his eyes again. He tried to say something but couldn’t. Instead he cast his eyes again.
“What? What is it? Do you hurt? What is it? Sherlock? You have to tell me. Please. I am your friend. Don’t hesitate, OK?” Slowly Sherlock looked up and swallowed.
“There is more. I … You need to …” He blushed and started to sweat. John was clueless.
“Please, you have to tell me. I want to help you but you have to let me know what’s wrong.” Right then Mycroft dashed inside and stopped dead when he saw Sherlock. They looked at each other and Mycroft dropped his umbrella. He hurried forward and even pushed John a bit to the side.
“Sherlock, you look horrid. What did they do to you? What do you need me to do? Oh God, I am so happy …” And he just dropped on his knees in front of the sofa, pulled him into his long arms and held him. John saw the surprise on Sherlock’s face but only a second later he burst into tears and slung his own arms around him. And only now he cried. He sobbed and tears and snot ran over Mycroft’s suit.
They held each other for several minutes until they stared into each other’s eyes for a few seconds. Mycroft just nodded and turned to John.
“There is more.” John nodded.
“I know. He wasn’t able to tell me.”
“It’s embarrassing.” Both men were surprised when Sherlock suddenly spoke to them.
“But why? I am a doctor. Your doctor.” John took his hand and moved his thumb over his knuckles.
“You will have to see me naked.” Sherlock looked absolutely serious. John smiled.
“I’ve seen you naked before.” John raised his brows.
“But this is different. You have to touch me, too.”
“I’ve touched you before when I treated your wounds.”
“Not down there.”
“Where?” They looked at each other and finally John knew what he meant.
“Oh …” Sherlock nodded while Mycroft moved his long fingers through his hair. It seemed to sooth him. Both of them. Now John cleared his throat.
“Well, as I’ve said. I am your doctor. You don’t have to feel embarrassed.”
“But I am dirty …” He only whispered it. John closed his eyes and rubbed over his forehead.
“OK, Sherlock, listen. Answer my questions, please?”
“Yes, John.”
“Was this thing down there shocking you, too? Like the collar?” Sherlock nodded.
“Yes.”
“When they cleaned you up, has it been on?” He nodded again.
“Yes, they never took it off.”
“OK, then we can soak it. Very well.” John looked at Mycroft.
“I would like you to help him wash. Place him into the tub. Afterwards I will take it off of him.”
“Very well, John.” Mycroft got rid of his jacket and waistcoat as well as his shoes and socks. He pulled his brother up and walked him into the bath. Sherlock looked over his shoulder at John and sadly smiled.
John’s shoulders sagged the moment Sherlock had disappeared into the bath with his brother. He heard the water run and Mycroft murmuring to his brother. He wasn’t able to hear Sherlock though. He waited.
Ten minutes later Mycroft called him and John snatched his bag and hurried inside.
“John, he is ready now.” John looked at Sherlock who wasn’t ready at all. But he was clean. John saw he had bruises everywhere. Unconsciously he worried his lips when his eyes roamed over his long legs. His eyes stopped when he saw the leather around his genitals.
“Fuck …” He moved up and just dropped down on his knees. Mycroft stayed by Sherlock’s side and held him.
“John. Please. Quickly.” For a second both their fingers touched John’s head and John had to close his eyes.
“OK, quickly. I am going to touch you now. Please spread your legs some more and try to hold still for me.” Sherlock widened his stance and John could feel him tremble when he gently lifted up his balls. The thing around his cock and balls was made from leather and was tied by thin leather strips. The whole thing was already rather rough and John feared for the tender skin down there. He chose a scalpel and cut off the stripes.
He heard Sherlock breathing and he also trembled harder, so John had to stop using the scalpel. He was very much afraid to cut into Sherlock’s cock. He tried to use his fingers instead and peeled the strips off. He gently removed the thing from him and dropped it. Then he took his penis on his palm and lifted it up. It was sore and red and inflamed and so were his balls.
“Turn around, please.” There was a second hesitation but then his brother moved him. John looked at his arse and had to swallow again. There were bruises, too. He carefully parted his cheeks and checked on his anus. It seemed to be untouched.
Finally John got up again.
“I will put some cream on your genitals. Then you should eat and rest.” John took the cream but Mycroft took it from him.
“No. I’ll do it and you’ll prepare some soup or whatever you think is right for my brother. Go.” John was surprised but when he met Mycroft’s eyes he just left. He also heard Sherlock cry again.
He cleaned his hands in the kitchen and started to cook a chicken broth. He heard them enter Sherlock’s sleeping-room and then Mycroft’s comments on comfy clothes. John had to smile when he imagined big brother in pyjamas.
Finally he led Sherlock back into the kitchen and placed him on a chair. His ginger hair was sort of curly and tousled and the arms of his dress-shirt were all the way up.
“You want some, too? I have enough for all of us.” Mycroft just nodded and plonked on the other chair. John filled their bowls and sat down, too. Sherlock very slowly started to eat. When he was halfway done his eyes drooped and Mycroft stood.
“Come on and get into bed.” Mycroft helped him inside and John watched from the door. Mycroft pulled up the blanket and sat down by his side. His fingers moved through Sherlock’s freshly washed hair and it made him smile a bit.
“Sleep now, brother-dear. John is here watching you. Nothing will happen to you.” And Sherlock slept.

***

John cleaned up the table and placed the left-over broth in the fridge. When Mycroft quietly closed Sherlock’s door he looked at him. Mycroft licked his lips.
“The broth was really good.” John looked surprised.
“Oh, I am sorry. I just stored it away. Did you want some more?” Mycroft smiled and he looked exhausted.
“Yes, please.” John made him sit on the sofa and heated up a bowl in the microwave.
“Here you go. I am glad you like it.” Mycroft devoured everything and only then John offered him a drink which he gladly took. They sat in the armchairs facing each other.
“You know, the recipe I got from Greg.” That made him look up.
“Really? DI Lestrade is able to cook?” John shook his head grinning.
“He is the fucking best cook I’ve ever met. His uncle had a star in France somewhere and taught him everything.”
“A star?” It sounded almost shocked.
“Yes, a star. Don’t tell me you didn’t know, Myc. You know everything.”
“I know everything official. This is private stuff. Why would I know such things?”
“Because you like him.” Mycroft’s earlobes became red.
“And what if?” He sipped his drink.
“Ask him to cook for you. Tell him I told you he was a great cook. He will like that.”
“Why would he?” John sighed.
“Because he likes you, too.” John just refilled their glasses and ignored Mycroft’s red face.
“OK.” Mycroft cleared his throat. “Let’s talk about Sherlock again.”
“What do I need to know?” Mycroft reached into his trouser pocket and placed the leather thingy on the table.
“This thing is wired.” John took it and had a closer look. Thin cables ran through both sides of the leather.
“This is … I don’t know what this is, Mycroft.”
“Are they all dead?” John nodded.
“Yes, they are. I shot one and Moran shot the other one. They were the main gang, Jim said. The others we killed on the way out, I am not sure how many survived. Not many though.” Mycroft slowly nodded.
“I assume Moriarty took the drugs my brother produced?” John shrugged.
“I think so, yes. I didn’t care, you know?” John looked a bit angry.
“It’s all fine, John. Regarding my brother now. And you.”
“And me?”
“Yes, and you. You are such a smart and intelligent man. I mean, you are a doctor, so you can’t be that dumb.”
“Oh, I hear your brother right now!”
“Just listen to me, please?” They stared into each others eyes and finally John leant back and sipped his drink.
“Talk.”
“Since you came into my brothers life he has changed. A lot. He desperately tries to please you, to act correctly because he doesn’t want you to leave him again. He is afraid that you would leave him when he keeps acting like an obnoxious arse. His own words. He needs you, John. He also doesn’t know what to do with his feelings for you.”
“Feelings? What feelings?” John became worried.
“I believe he is in love with you, John. He wants you to like him. That’s why he was so embarrassed right now. You touched him in places no one else has ever touched him before. He knows he looks horrid right now. He was dirty. He used the word filthy in the bathroom.” John just stared at Mycroft. He had no idea what to say.
“Don’t you like my brother just a little bit, John?” Mycroft’s icy blue eyes pierced into John’s dark blue ones. John swallowed.
“Of course I like Sherlock and not just a little bit. But I am not gay.” Mycroft waved his hand.
“Whatever.”
“What? You …No, I am serious here.” Mycroft smiled.
“Yes. Like I said, whatever.”
“If I wouldn’t like him, I wouldn’t live with him in this flat. Or help him with his consulting business. But …”
“I know about you and Moran, John. So don’t deny you are at least bi-sexual.” John furiously blushed.
“How …” Then he just shook his head.
“My brother wants your love, John. He trusts you to an extent I have never seen before. Not at school and not at university.”
“I need to think about this.” Mycroft stood and dressed up again as best as he could.
“Please do so. I’ll be back tomorrow morning with breakfast, if it’s OK?” John just looked at him.
“Of course it is. Come over whenever you want. I’ll manage here. Don’t worry, OK?” He showed Mycroft out and then carefully peaked into Sherlock’s room. He was barely able to see him. Only his head showed. His body was spread all over the bed, the blanket was all the way up and he was on his front. But he was sleeping.
John sighed and closed the door again. He got ready for bed, too. Then he thought about his room upstairs and shook his head. He decided to sleep on the sofa just in case of an emergency. Upstairs he wasn’t so sure he would be able to hear Sherlock if he called out for him. He got his pillow and blanket and made his bed downstairs. He switched on the timer on the TV and soon fell asleep.

***

Sherlock slept without any bad dreams. When he woke his room was bathed in sunlight. And it was his room. He carefully sat up and looked around. It was quiet.
John. Where was John? He stood and had to close his eyes for a bit. But then he moved to the door and opened it. The flat was quiet.
He slowly shuffled through the flat and found John on the sofa. He was still asleep. But why was he on the sofa?
Sherlock needed something to drink and he moved back into the kitchen. He stood in front of the sink and leant on the edge with his eyes closed. He was sweating. This was exhausting. With shaking hands he took a glass and filled it. He drank two glasses and then had to sit down. His genitals hurt and itched and he felt the urgent need to scratch them. Only he didn’t. He couldn’t.
Suddenly John stumbled into the kitchen. His eyes were smallish and his hair was a mess. He looked worried.
“Sherlock, you are up. You should have woken me. Do you need anything?” Sherlock just looked at him. John. But he didn’t talk.
John came a bit closer and finally took a kitchen towel. He held it under the cold water and handed it to Sherlock.
“Here. You should cool your eyes. You are all blotchy from yesterday’s crying fit.” Sherlock took it and lowered his head. Then he just pressed the towel against his eyes and sighed.
After several minutes he looked at John again. John looked at Sherlock who licked over his lip, looked down again and cleared his throat.
“I was so afraid. They threatened me. I was scared, so scared. And when I finally smelled you, I thought it was a nice dream, a hallucination. I floated on that feeling.”
“But I was real. I ganged up with the devil to get you back.” Sherlock sadly smiled.
“Thank you.” John came closer and placed his palm on his face. His thumb moved over his cheekbone which stood out even more prominently than before due to his loss of weight.
“Don’t. We are good. Now I have to see that I get you back on your own two feet. You need to heal, you need to gain weight. You need to talk about what they did to you. Not to me, if you don’t want. Talk to Myc, Greg or someone in your mind palace. Just talk about it.”
“Use your imagination, John. You took off my collar and I am sure Myc showed you the leather shocker.”
“I did use my imagination, Sherlock. And it made me wish to kill them again. And again. More slowly.” He sounded angry and it made Sherlock look up. He swallowed again.
“I can’t … I still feel so humiliated. Please …” His eyes watered and he looked desperate. John’s heart hurt.
“What do you need, Sherlock?” Sherlock tried to get up and had to lean on the table.
“What I need I can’t have. I need to rest.” John helped him and Sherlock was too weak to protest. Sherlock shuffled back into his bedroom and John stayed close by his side. He placed him back under his blanket.
“Do you hurt?” Sherlock was stubborn and shook his head.
“No.” John knew he was lying but what could he do? He just let it go. But it made him sad.
“If you need anything, please call me. Please?” Sherlock nodded and closed his eyes. Right away he moved on his side and huddled into his blanket. John had to smile. Sherlock stopped him when he stood at the door.
“Could you stay in here for a bit, please?” Quickly John’s eyes checked his room. No armchair, no chair at all. Just the bed. John swallowed.
“OK, I’ll be right back.” He snatched his pillow and blanket from the sofa and placed it on the bed. Sherlock had moved to the side. John was a bit wired and hit his pillow several times before he laid down. He pulled up his own blanket and rolled on his side facing Sherlock.
Sherlock watched John. John was in his bed. This was good. He felt John’s body warmth and he could smell him being so close. He touched his blanket and held on to it.
John watched him fall asleep again. His hand was fisted into his blanket and he moved a bit closer. Surprisingly he felt good like this. Sherlock smelled good again after yesterdays bath. It was his shampoo he also showered with. Something with strawberry flavour. John had missed it. And now his nose was close to Sherlock’s hair and he inhaled his scent. And fell asleep.

***

Mycroft entered the flat at only 10 the next morning because he had been stopped by Mrs Hudson. He told her what happened and she looked shocked.
“And I missed them coming back! I could have cooked and baked! And also that insane little man! Again!” She muttered some more and disappeared into her kitchen. Mycroft just had to smile. His brother and John would soon be buried with cookies, cake and normal food.
He brought only breakfast for now. He had rolls and croissants, jam, chocolate cream, cheese and other stuff. He also brought eggs, bacon and beans as well as some fruits and vegetables. He carried the big basket upstairs and opened the door.
No one was to be seen and it was quiet. Were they still sleeping? Mycroft placed everything in the kitchen and got rid of his coat. Then he checked into Sherlock’s room. He stood in the open door and gaped.
Both Sherlock and John were in Sherlock’s bed. John had obviously brought his own blanket and pillow. But Sherlock had managed to half rest on top of him. They were still sleeping and Mycroft closed the door again. He sighed.
Then he set up the table, brewed coffee and made himself comfortable with the newspaper.
About an hour later he heard John get up and go into the bathroom. Soon enough he swayed into the living-room and stopped dead when seeing him.
“Myc … You could have woken me.” Mycroft smiled.
“Don’t worry. I brought breakfast as promised. Is my brother awake?”
“I think I was able to free myself from his wiry body without waking him.”
“You two together looked really nice. Cute, I believe, is the correct word. See?” And he held up his mobile. John looked at the display and blushed.
“He asked me to stay with him when we first woke up this morning. I slept on the sofa so I would be able to hear him.”
“You are a good man, John.” John just turned around and looked if Sherlock was awake. He opened the door and found him waking up. In the meantime he had managed to grab John’s blanket and held on to it. He looked relaxed.
“Perhaps we should let him rest, Myc.” Mycroft looked over John’s shoulder and nodded.
“Yes, you are right. But I want to have breakfast now. So join me, John?” John agreed and brewed more coffee. He also scrambled eggs and sliced some fruits. He peeled an orange for Sherlock and got all the flesh for him without any piece of skin. Mycroft smiled.
“He made you do it. It’s amazing.” John smiled, too.
“When he went down with the flue last winter, he wished for this. I was glad he ate at all, so I prepared the orange the way he liked it. Since then I always make them for him.”
“You do like him, John. Don’t deny it.” John looked up.
“Of course I like him. He is the best man I have ever met.”
“Most people won’t agree with you.”
“I am not interested in most people, Myc.”
“You sound like my brother, John.” Mycroft grinned and sipped his coffee.
“But it’s true. Mostly they are just jealous. They don’t see his great mind and soul.”
“And you do?” John shrugged.
“I think I do, yes. And so does Greg.”
“I know. He is very vulnerable. He never lets someone close. Except for you, John. You came closer than anybody else. And now you even saved him from a horrible fate.”
“Did he talk to you about what happened to him?” Mycroft thoughtfully looked at him.
“He told me what was done to him, yes.”
“So?” But Mycroft shook his head.
“Not here and now, John. I asked Greg to come by and look after my brother. I would like you to come to my office.”
“OK. When?”
“At four today. Greg will be here at three.”
“Well, fine.” Suddenly Mycroft’s head came up.
“He is awake.” John tried to hear something but couldn’t.
“How …” And then there was his voice.
“John?” John stood at once and hurried into his sleeping-room. He sat on the edge of his bed and looked a bit disoriented.
“I am right here, Sherlock. What’s wrong?” John moved a bit closer and knelt in front of him so he wasn’t towering over him.
“I woke. You were gone. I thought …” Hectically he looked everywhere but not at John.
“I woke and needed the loo. Then I found your brother outside. He brought us breakfast. Won’t you like a croissant with jam or chocolate cream?” Unconsciously he licked his lips.
“I need to go into the bathroom. I’ll be right with you.” He slowly stood and closed his eyes for a second. John didn’t ask if he needed help. He would deny him anyway. He stood again and his knees cracked.
Outside he found Mycroft standing again and looking at the bathroom door. His head was tilted and he listened to the sounds Sherlock created.
“He is weak but fine.” John was only able to hear the water run and nothing else. He shook his head and just turned around to fill fresh coffee into Sherlock’s mug. After two minutes Mycroft followed him.
“He’ll be ready in a few minutes. And don’t look like that. We’ve been growing up together. I am seven years older than him. I always protected him. Always have and always will. I know everything.”
“I know.” John just smiled and filled his mug. Mycroft thanked him and then Sherlock appeared clad in his dressing-gown over his pyjamas. He shuffled over and plonked on a chair. He looked at the things on the table and found the orange. A smile came up which made John’s heart warm. He took the plate and ate the whole fruit. Meanwhile Mycroft prepared a roll with jam and chocolate cream for him. John just watched. It looked disgusting but Sherlock ate that, too. And finally Mycroft even stood and prepared scrambled eggs the very mushy way.
“Eat, brother-dear.” He placed the plate in front of his brother and he devoured everything. John noticed the way Mycroft had prepared everything. He would do this tomorrow for Sherlock.
When Sherlock was done Mycroft stood and carded through his hair.
“I have to go now. I need to talk to John this afternoon.” Sherlock’s head came up. He looked scared. His eyes moved between his brother and John.
“But I …” Mycroft kept on carding and quietly spoke to him.
“You don’t have to worry. I asked Gregory to come over. You won’t be alone, do you hear me?” Sherlock swallowed.
“I …” Then he just shook his head.
“I’ll hurry. I won’t be long, OK? I promise.” John tried to soothe him.
“OK.” Sherlock came down a bit.
“And maybe Greg will bring some files? You could have a look at them? Perhaps help him?”
“I try.” It didn’t sound very convincing though but neither Mycroft or John insisted.
“Well, I’ll see you later, John. Sherlock?” Mycroft stood and John let him out. When he returned to the kitchen Sherlock’s head rested on his arms and his eyes were closed. He was sleeping again.
John looked at him and quietly shook his head. He placed his palm on his head.
“Sherlock? You can’t sleep again. Do you hear me? Let’s get you dressed and walk through the park, do you hear me?” Sherlock mumbled something but didn’t move. Now John placed his hands on his shoulders and carefully pulled him up.
“Please? Just a few minutes outside. Fresh air will be good for you.” Sherlock sighed and turned his head.
“But only if I get ice-cream from the café in the park.” John smiled.
“I’ll get it for you. But you have to get dressed.” Slowly Sherlock got up and moved back into his room. John heard the cupboard and some shuffling and then Sherlock appeared again. John’s eyes widened. He had never seen him like this before. Never ever.
“You look …” He made a waving gesture and Sherlock looked down at himself.
“What? We are only going into the park. And if I fall down it doesn’t matter.”
“You won’t fall down. I am with you. And by the way, I like that look.” John turned around to get properly dressed, too. Sherlock smiled and looked into the mirror again. He was dressed in a pair of jeans and a tee. He wore chucks and held a hoodie in his hands. He looked years younger than he was.
John came back and carried a leather jacket. They looked at each other.
“Come on then. We’ll go slowly. I am with you.” Sherlock moved up to him.
“Do you have your gun on you?” John knew him and had got it. He nodded.
“Yes, I have.” He lifted his tee and showed it to Sherlock who visibly relaxed.
“OK, I am ready.” He pulled the hoodie over his head and they left the flat for Regents Park. Slowly they walked for a bit. The sun shone and the squirrels ran over their feet. Sherlock threw some nuts at them and they carried them away. He smiled.
John had never seen him doing that. He was surprised.
“It’s what I did when I was so alone. When no one would talk to me, invite me to parties or asked me to be his friend.” They watched the little animals.
“Instead they gave me names. Worse than the ones from Donovan and Anderson. They shoved me around when I was younger. They tried to get at my pants when I was at age. I always got away. I was good at martial arts.” John kept listening to him. He never talked to him about his past. John didn’t want him to stop.
“When I wasn’t able to cope anymore, when Myc was gone abroad, I turned to drugs. It ended badly, I was in rehab, I got to know Greg. And it became better. And then you came.” He turned his head and smiled at John.
“I know you don’t want me the way I want you. But I don’t mind. What matters only is that you are staying.” John now placed his hand on his and Sherlock’s fingers curled around his.
“When they shut me off, tormented me and hurt me, you were my only hope. They weakened me. I wasn’t able to defend myself. I had no chance. I tried at first but they punished me. Severely punished me. And I gave up.” John looked at their hands together. It felt a bit too good. He thought of Sebastian. They had been together in Afghanistan. And it had been good.
“The day you came to my rescue, it felt like a dream at first. I was able to smell you. But then I smelled Moriarty, too. Then I thought I knew it couldn’t be happening, that I kept on dreaming. Only I could hear you, too.” He held on tighter making John look up.
“You know, I was so happy when I found you. I mean, I was shocked, too. But mostly happy.”
“What did you see?” Very quietly asked. John turned to him placing his free hand on their entwined.
“I entered the cell with Moriarty behind me. I saw that Russian mobster fumble with the gag. I saw your greasy hair and the collar. I also saw you were weak due to dehydration and hunger.”
“I felt so dirty … I still do sometimes.”
“You are not. You never were to me. Do you understand?” Sherlock smiled.
“I can hear you.” He moved a bit closer and John relaxed against him.

***

They just stood there and thought about what had been just said. John also thought about his feelings for Sherlock. What if they would be together? Would it be good? Of course it would be completely different from Sebastian. He could never take Sherlock like he had taken Seb. John smiled absolutely unconsciously.
“What are you thinking of?” Sherlock’s voice interrupted his beautiful memories of sex with Sebby.
“Honestly? I was thinking of you and me. Together. What you said you wanted and can’t have.” Sherlock’s grip around his hand tightened again.
“Yes?” Very carefully asked. He looked at John. His face was open and vulnerable. He really had been damaged, John thought.
“I always said that I wasn’t gay. I talked to your brother this morning.”
“What does Mycroft have to do with this? Does he want you, too? He doesn’t, does he?” Sherlock sounded full of panic.
“No, he doesn’t. Of course he doesn’t. Sherlock, please, come down. Here, lets sit down over there.” John pulled him over to a wooden bench under a tree.
“When I was in Afghanistan I met Moran. I got to know him intimately. Your brother did know about that.”
“And Moriarty didn’t eat you alive when you two met?”
“No, he didn’t. It’s kind of obvious that Moran really loves him. And from what I was able to see, James loves Sebby. He listens to him. He lets him close.”
“Interesting.”
“Yes. So you’ve got nothing else to comment?” Sherlock focused back on John and his eyes slanted.
“What are you trying to tell me without saying? That you like me? That you want me?” He sadly smiled. John sighed.
“You know very well that I like you a lot. I respect you and I am permanently in awe. The way you look and the way you dress. Just everything is just wonderful. You are a wonderful man and I would defend you any time Donovan sticks her nose around the corner. If I wouldn’t like you, I wouldn’t have moved in with you.”
“But you keep complaining all the time about my behaviour.” John smiled now.
“Yes, and this will probably continue. You are an unimaginable brat sometimes, impolite and so much more. You leave a head in the fridge and eyes in the microwave. But still I am there with you and I don’t want to leave.”
“Will you be holding my hand more often now?” John laughed.
“I may even stay in your bed more often now if you let me.”
“Always.”

***

“I have to throw up, Sebby!” Foliage rustled beneath James Moriarty.
“Are you jealous, Jim?” Sebastian turned his head and pulled him close pecking a kiss on his forehead. James tried to push him away, of course to no avail. Both men were on the ground in the park and hiding in the ditches. They were listening in to Sherlock and John with some technical stuff because Jim had wanted to know what was going on.
“Are you pleased and done now, James?” He murmured something but didn’t move.
“What else is there?”
“Nothing.” Sebastian rolled on top of him.
“You are not telling the truth, boss.” Moriarty’s eyes glowed.
“If you are calling me boss, Moran, you better should get off of me.” For a few seconds more he looked into James’ eyes and then he let go.
In the meantime Sherlock and John had left. Moriarty and Sebastian were running through the park until they reached the exit where Sebastian had parked their car. They didn’t talk.
Sebastian wondered what was wrong. It must have been something James had heard John or Sherlock say. But what?
It took James hours to react but react he did. It was after dinner. Sebastian had cooked something nice and James had devoured everything. He brushed his teeth after dinner, a thing he always did, and when he returned he found Sebastian on the balcony holding two tumblers. He stood by his side and was handed his.
“Thank you, Sebby.”
“Will you say something now?” James answered but at first he sipped his drink. He licked his lips and looked at the London skyline.
“When we were listening into John’s and Sherlock’s conservation I heard something.”
“That’s what I thought.” James smiled and looked up at Sebastian.
“You know me well, big guy.” Sebastian smiled, too.
“It’s more sensing than knowing.” James smile became wider.
“Anyway, it was what John said about Sherlock. I wondered if you …” Then he just shook his head and drank more. Sebastian could just stare. He remembered what John had said.
“Jim, I love you. I am constantly in awe with you. What you do, your whole business and your persona, are most fascinating. And always very lovable, at least to me. I love you, tiny.”
“When I found you in the narrow alley, drunk and beaten to a pulp, I saw something in you. And when you were presentable again and sober, I saw I had been right. I love you, too, big guy.”
“Come here, Jimmy.” Sebastian took their glasses away and held him. Jim rested against his chest and sighed.
“I want to know what you and John had in Afghanistan. I want to know about every single fucking second.” Sebastian chuckled.
“Well, you need to steal the black op from dearest brother to know about every fucking second, Jimmy.”
“I already did that. You know exactly what I am talking about.”
“You already stole … Fuck, Jim, I can’t believe that.” Sebastian shook his head and held him tighter.
“You are breaking my ribs, Sebby.” He let go at once and kissed him on the head.
“I am sorry.”
“So. The other fucking minutes?” Sebastian sighed and placed his chin on James head.
“We were watching some fucking Taliban’s home. John and I were. After several hours we killed them all. We felt like high and there was no one else with us. We stayed in that house and happened to have fantastic sex.”
“You and the small doctor had the sex. I can’t believe it.”
“I never underestimated small people, you know?” His hands moved over James behind.
“I want to know how.” Sebastian stilled.
“What? Are you asking who was on top?”
“Yes?” James shifted on his feet.
“Make an educated guess.” James turned in his arms and looked up at him.
“You let him top you?” Sebastian nodded.
“It felt right, natural. He knows his business.” James shoved his foot between Sebastian’s legs and pulled his tee up. His palm moved over his chest making him shiver.
“Natural, hm? Like me? Do I feel natural, too?” He was now opening his jeans and grabbed his cock. Sebastian twitched and quietly moaned.
“You just feel right with me. It’s only you for me. The way you do me is just perfect. Don’t have second thoughts.”
“I don’t have second thoughts. I just need to know if John Watson is …” He bit his lip and stilled all his movements. Sebastian exhaled.
“What? If John is capable of more things in bed than you? Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I feel ridiculous right now.” He put him back into his jeans and closed them. He straightened his tee and then just walked away. Sebastian looked at his back.
“What the fuck ..?” He swallowed and followed him inside. He wasn’t in the living-room but he heard him moving through the bath. He shook his head and just waited. Soon he heard the second door into their bedroom.
“What am I supposed to do now? He seriously can’t be jealous of John. Or can he? I need to talk to him.” He went through his own bathroom-routine and entered their sleeping-room. James pretended to work and sat against the headrest with his laptop on his legs.
Sebastian climbed into bed by his side and buried his nose into his side. He deeply inhaled and closed his eyes. And he felt James staring down. Slowly there was movement and James hand came to rest on his head. Sebastian smiled.

***

Back in their flat it showed that Sherlock was very much exhausted. John looked worried. Sherlock had insisted on his ice-cream and John had bought it for him. There were still traces of chocolate at the corners of his mouth and John felt the urge to lick them off.
“How do you feel?” Sherlock sat on the sofa and his eyes followed John around.
“Tired. But not bad.” John smiled and brought finally a washcloth.
“Here. You have to wipe your mouth.” Sherlock felt the heat crawl up his chest but did wipe his mouth.
“You should rest a bit before Greg shows up.”
“Why? He saw me sleeping before.” John seriously looked at him.
“Sherlock, Mycroft told me that Greg really looks forward to see you. He will probably bring files but won’t hand them over when you are sleeping.” That made Sherlock slant his eyes.
“Why would my brother know that? Did he finally realise that Greg is yapping after him?” Now he even grinned.
“I put it a bit different but yes, I think you got it right.”
“Wait, you told him?” John pointed two fingers at his own eyes.
“How?” Sherlock demanded to know. John first prepared tea and then sat by Sherlock’s side on the sofa.
“So I told him to ask for a meal.”
“And you think he did?” John shrugged.
“I don’t know. He will probably work out some weird plan to do so.” Sherlock smiled again.
“You know us way too long, John.” John loudly laughed.
“I would like to hold you for a bit.” Sherlock stilled for a few seconds but then quickly moved closer to John and looked at him somehow expectantly. John pulled him against his body and slung his arms around him. Sherlock was stiff. He didn’t know what to do. He felt caged in and started to pant.
“Not like this …” He only whispered it. John let go.
“I am sorry. I …” But Sherlock shook his head.
“No, it’s not your fault. It’s me. I am …” He buried his head in his hands and groaned. John looked at him and he was worried. He bit his lip and finally said:
“OK, I really don’t know what to do. Why don’t you just come here and do what you want? Make me hold you the way you want. But since I can’t read your mind like you read mine, you have to tell me what you want, what you need.” Sherlock groaned some more but then answered head still buried.
“I don’t know what I need due to a lack of experience. Right now I felt caged in, restrained. I was afraid. Could I hold you instead and place you against me? Please?” His head came up with the last word and he sadly looked at John.
“Do whatever you need to. It’s all fine.” Sherlock wiped over his eyes and then carefully placed his hands on John’s shoulder and arm.
“I can feel your scar through the fabric. I can also feel your muscles.” His fingers gently moved over John’s tee. John became aroused and probably for the first time in his life didn’t know what to do. Then he suddenly felt Sherlock’s nose behind his ear and moving down his neck.
“I can smell your shampoo, your aftershave and tea. It’s what I dreamt of in that cell. Your scent.” Sherlock lowered his lanky body until his head rested on John’s lap and he faced his stomach. His long arms were around his waist.
“This is nice …” Sherlock sighed and his warm breath made John sweat.
“May I touch you?” Sherlock moved his head. John placed one hand on his hip and his other hand carded through his hair. And he felt him relax. It obviously was good for him. Their breath synched and John felt Sherlock fall asleep.

***

They sat like this until Greg knocked on the door. The knocking woke Sherlock who had drooled on John’s tee. John hadn’t been sleeping at all but just enjoyed sitting on the sofa with Sherlock. He felt him waking up and slowly move and mumble things.
“It’s Greg, love. Come on and get up.” Sherlock smiled brightly and caressed John’s face with his fingertips. Then he disappeared into the bathroom and John went to open the door.
“John, hi. I am here to look after Sherlock.”
“I know, come on in, Greg.” Greg looked around.
“Where is he?”
“Bathroom. Did you bring something for him?” Greg placed a messenger bag on the table.
“Yes, tons of files, old and new. I think he will like it.” John looked at Greg and raised a brow.
“So, did Myc talk to you?” Greg’s earlobes became red.
“It was less talk …” John didn’t hide his grin.
“Meaning?” Greg shed his jacket and rolled up his shirt-sleeve. There were rope marks.
“It was overwhelming …” Greg’s smile was intoxicating. John leant closer.
“You know, if I’d known that …” He shook his head grinning and made him blush even more. But then he became serious.
“Listen, John. Never ever do these things with Sherlock. Never ever betray him or even pretend to do so. Never ever flirt with somebody else if it’s meant to be a joke. He doesn’t understand it.”
“What do you know?” John became dead serious.
“It’s not my story to tell. Talk to Myc.” That moment Sherlock returned and moved up to Greg who at once turned his attention to him. He brightly smiled at him.
“Sherlock, I heard what happened. I also didn’t. How are you?” Sherlock gave him a genuine smile which was rare.
“John ganged up with the devil and his associate to get me back. It worked.” He gave John a genuine smile, too.
“I am still scared sometimes and I don’t want to be alone.”
“That’s why I am here while John is with Myc. I brought files for you.” Sherlock moved over to the messenger bag already and picked it up. He opened it and held it over the sofa to throw out all the folders. Greg sighed. And while moving his hands through them he once looked over his shoulder.
“You know, you should ask John for some cream for your rope marks.” Greg furiously blushed and John chuckled. Sherlock didn’t react anymore but was buried deep into the first folder sitting on the sofa. John grabbed his shoes and jacket and moved over to him.
“I’ll hurry, OK?” Sherlock didn’t even look up.
“Huh.” John gently palmed his face and pecked a kiss on his curls.
“See you later.”
Greg looked at Sherlock and saw his hidden smile. Greg was happy for Sherlock and finally moved over when John was gone.
“So. Solved the first one for me already?” Sherlock looked up and pointed at two folders already sitting on the coffee-table with a post-it attached to it. Greg took them and read the comments.
“Arrest husband. Look for bracelet. Fingerprints on kitchen knife.” The second folder had written the words “Even though it’s never twins, now it is. Look for twin brother and surgery files.” on the post-it. Greg just called Donovan and sent her on her way. Sherlock grinned.
“So, how did big brother approach you?” Greg looked surprised and Sherlock just pulled a leg under and leant back into the sofa.
“He told me about the broth John made. He told me he liked it and that he wanted me to cook for him.”
“Did he really say it like this?”
“Yes, he did. You know him. He is bloody demanding.”
“But you did cook for him. And more.” Greg shrugged and smiled.
“Yes, I did. Yes to both. It was special. What he dished up was …” He ruffled his hair and looked a bit clueless.
“Intense? Forceful? Sexy?” Greg nodded again.
“Yes, I had no idea. I mean I never had sex with a man before. Your brother showed me a totally new world.”
“I need you to tell me all about it. Be specific.”
“What?”
“You heard me. Cases against knowledge.”
“No. I possibly can’t …” Slowly Sherlock closed the folder he was just reading in.
“Yes, you can. John and I, we, I …”
“I saw it. You are close now.”
“Not close enough.”
“You shouldn’t hurry into the sex thing, Sherlock. You never have …”
“Yes, yes, I know. I am absolutely inexperienced. That’s why I need to know. I need to impress John.” Greg snorted.
“You impress him all day long, Sherlock.”
“Please?” But Greg still shook his head.
“No, Sherlock. I am not talking about the sex with Mycroft to you. Ask your brother directly.” Sherlock sighed and opened the folder again. He knew Greg very well. He wouldn’t budge. So he just solved his cases while Greg prepared dinner.

***

Several hours later John returned with Mycroft on his heels who at once hurried over to Sherlock. They hugged. Then they stared at each other for minutes. And only then Mycroft visibly relaxed and turned to Greg who was still working on their dinner. He approached him from behind and slung his long arms around him. His chin came to rest on Greg’s shoulder.
“Did he help you?” Greg nodded and kept stirring.
“He solved them all, yes.”
“He drilled you, didn’t he?” Now he sighed.
“Yes, he did. But I didn’t tell him a single thing. I told him to ask you directly.” Mycroft hummed and looked into the pan.
“I’ll take care of it.”
“Him.” Mycroft gently bit him.
“Him. Fine. Sometimes.” Then he let go.
John had hung up his jacket while Sherlock and Mycroft were communicating. Only when Mycroft had turned his attention to Greg he walked over to him.
“How are you?”
“As clueless as before.”
“I meant …” Sherlock’s head shot up and he glared at John.
“I know what you meant.” They looked into each others eyes and John just backed off holding up his hands.
“Fine.” He opened the fridge and offered a beer to Greg. He knew Mycroft didn’t drink beer so he opened a bottle of wine for him. Mycroft carried a glass over to Sherlock and John joined Greg.
“Listen, brother-mine, if you want to know more about what John likes to do in bed, you should talk to Moran.”
“Yes, I know. John told me they had a thing.”
“Would you like me to arrange a meeting?” Sherlock nodded.
“What are these two talking about?” John wondered.
“About the way you want to have sex.” John choked on his beer. Greg hit on his back until the coughing fit was over.
“Bloody hell …” Greg grinned and stirred some more.
“You know what I think?”
“Enlighten me!” John looked at him.
“You should take him into bed and let him experiment on you.”
“You know what kind of experiments he does, don’t you?” Greg grinned and nodded.
“Yes, but he won’t ever hurt you, John.”
“God, I need a drink.” He finished his beer and poured a drink.
Sherlock watched them watched by Mycroft.
“I need to do some research.”
“Do it on him. He’ll let you. Trust me.”
“You think?”
“Absolutely.”
“Do I have to tell him about what was being done to me? Detailed?”
“It would help.”
“Do I need to purchase certain things?” Mycroft thinly smiled.
“No, John has everything stored up in his room, I believe.”
“Oh.”
“Dinner is ready, boys. Please come over.” The kitchen table had been set up in the meantime and they all sat down. Mycroft looked greedily at the bowls and then at Greg.
“This looks great. I’ll keep you shackled up in the kitchen.”
“Please don’t.” John grinned and sat down, too. Sherlock looked at the things on the table and sighed but sat down, as well.
“Eat what you can.” John quietly told him making him smile. Sherlock placed his hand on John’s and kept holding it through dinner. Beneath the table Mycroft touched Greg between his legs with his foot.
“Myc, stop doing this. We are having dinner.” Sherlock chided him.
“Apology.” He let go of Greg who stopped sweating. John took a second helping and fed Sherlock the meat. Mycroft held Greg’s hand and kissed his knuckles. They finished their wine and beer and John started to put the plates and such in the dishwasher.
“Keep the left-over. Sherlock likes re-heated food.” John put it in the fridge and they stood in the living-room. John looked at Mycroft.
“Mind your after-care, Mycroft. Greg has rope burns.”
“He wasn’t complaining.”
“Of course he wasn’t. He was and is overwhelmed. Use your brain, Myc, will you?” John was damn serious.
“I’ll talk to him when we are at home. Thank you, John. I was overwhelmed, too. It happens.” John smiled.
“Just take care of it.”
“I will.” Greg stepped up and hugged John. Then they left and John closed the door. When he turned around his nose touched Sherlock’s chest. He looked up.
“Yes?” Sherlock swallowed.
“John. I …”He sounded husky and John became aroused again.
“What do you need me to do?” John asked.
“I need to find out what I like. I trust you, John. You won’t ever hurt me.”
“No, I won’t. And you won’t ever hurt me.”
“Of course not.” John had an idea.
“Why don’t we relax together and take a bath?”
“I could look at you naked. Officially, I mean.”
“I am not asking.” Sherlock hurried after John and just a few minutes later they sat in their tub. Sherlock was sitting in front of John and held on to the tub’s edge.
“Relax, Sherlock. Nothing is going to happen to you.”
“I can feel it. Your … It’s hard.” John closed his eyes and looked between them.
“Yes, my penis is hard.”
“Why?”
“You being that close to me arouses me.”
“I do that to you?” Sherlock sounded surprised.
“Well, of course you do. I like you a lot. You are hot. And now you are naked and very close to me.” Sherlock looked at his own penis.
“But I like you a lot, too. And mine isn’t reacting at all.” Now he sounded sad.
“You are not used to this. Perhaps you need some stimulation?”
“Like what exactly?” John closed his eyes.
“You could touch it or think about things you like or you would like to do.”
“But I could just do the things I want to do. Why bother?”
“Well, then just do the things you want to do.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t know how.”
“Just go ahead.”
“But what if I do it wrong?”
“There is nothing wrong about experiencing.”
“You will laugh about me.”
“Getting closer”, John thought.
“I won’t ever laugh about you and you know it.”
“I want you to tell me how you like to have sex. I need to know.”
“Sherlock, I …”
“Myc offered to bring Moran so I can question him.”
“What? Are you two insane?”
“You know the answer to that, John.”
“You can’t compare the sex I had with Sebastian with the thing we have.”
“We have a thing now?”
“Of course we do. The moment you let me in we started to have a thing.”
“And you and Moran didn’t have a thing?”
“A very different kind of thing.”
“I want you to show me the things you have upstairs.”
“No.”
“I could look at them when you are away or asleep.” John sighed.
“OK, this leads to just nothing. Why don’t you do what you always do?” John pushed him up.
“What do I always do?” John climbed out of the tub and grabbed a towel.
“Check my browser history.” And he left the bath leaving Sherlock behind.
Sherlock was clueless. Obviously he had angered John. But why? Sherlock dressed into something comfy and wanted to talk to John. But John was upstairs in his room. He heard him move and shook his head. He had learnt the hard way to leave him alone when he was up there. John had thrown him out rather forcefully one day. Since then he left him alone.
He looked around downstairs and found John’s laptop sitting on the coffee table. It was powered up and open. Slowly Sherlock came closer. He clearly remembered John’s invitation. One more look to the stairs but John wasn’t showing up. He sighed and sat down. Then he pressed the button. The browser was already on and several tabs were open.
Sherlock started to browse.

***

John gave him all the time he needed. He didn’t go to bed. Instead he just waited.
It was hours later when he heard him clutter in the bathroom. Then there was silence. Had he gone to bed? John wondered and decided to have a look.
Downstairs he found his computer shut down. Sherlock’s laptop stood there now, too, but was offline. There was no note. He had made tea and ate some cookies in the meantime. It looked like he had been working. There was also a bunch of tissues both on the floor and on the coffee table. John had a closer look and then just dropped them again. Ejaculate. What the fuck?
He turned his head when he heard him move inside his room. John exhaled and just knocked on his door.
“Sherlock?” He heard his sheets rustling.
“I am asleep.” John closed his eyes.
“No, you aren’t. You are hiding from me.”
“You explained to me earlier that I wasn’t supposed to enter your room.”
“Not without me inside!” John almost yelled at the closed door. There was no answer.
“Sherlock, please? Talk to me!”
“Come in.” John entered his room. Sherlock sat against he headrest. His face was still flushed and he was covered by the blanket.
“So you did have a look? And you wanked?” Sherlock nodded.
“I only followed your advice. It worked really well.”
“So I have seen.”
“I have looked at every site you have opened very thorough. I was surprised.”
“But you are not disgusted?” Sherlock shook his head.
“Obviously not. I made a file.”
“A file?”
“Yes, a file. I wrote down what affected me the most. At least in my mind. I mailed it to your account.”
“And you expect me to act after it?” Sherlock nodded.
“Yes?” John sighed.
“But that’s not the way it’s supposed to be.”
“I am not mainstream, John.” John sadly smiled and rubbed his face.
“I know that, Sherlock. I really do.”
“You see, I also wrote a manual for you. I chose a safeword and stated my no-goes.”
“You did?” Sherlock nodded again.
“Of course I did. I did a proper research after I visited your sites.”
“May I come close?” Sherlock happily nodded and held up his blanket.
“Sure.” John was tired and exhausted. He just got rid of his jeans and then came into bed. He rolled on his side and looked at Sherlock. He smiled and closed his eyes. He had the weirdest dreams.

***

Sherlock spent some hours just looking at John. Finally he carefully pulled him close and held him. John made some noises but didn’t wake. Sherlock fell asleep, too.
He woke though when he felt John move around. His arm moved over Sherlock’s hips and now he was pulled close. John pressed against his back and sighed. Then he relaxed again and kept sleeping.
Sherlock took John’s hand and entwined their fingers. Then he just waited until morning and that John woke up. But come morning he felt John’s cock pressing against his back. What did that mean? Sherlock had always willed that away when it occurred.
“Sh’lock? You awake?” John murmured into his back.
“Yes, John.” John sighed and breathed against his back. Then he realised his arousal and moved away at once. Sherlock was disappointed and turned around, too.
John didn’t do anything. Instead he sat up and ruffled his short hair. Why wouldn’t he touch him? Sherlock felt alone again.
“I am preparing coffee.” Then he just left his room. Sherlock’s eyes watered and he swallowed. He showered and went through his bathroom-routine. He dressed into his posh clothes and grabbed a coffee. John looked at him when he joined him.
“What are you up to?”
“Going to see Greg. See you later.” And gone he was. John was surprised. He had expected more. Then he decided to get ready and check the file Sherlock had created.
Two hours later he had gone through it. He had done it wrong. The file contained such things as being held but not caged in and cuddling in bed, preferably in the morning. He had done nothing. He had just left him behind and now he was gone.
Three hours later he called Greg.
“Hi, Greg. Is Sherlock still with you?”
“He never showed up. What’s wrong, John?”
“I am not sure. I need to find him.”
“Please call me when you have, OK?” They hung up and John called Mycroft.
“John, what do you want? I am quite busy.”
“Too busy to look for Sherlock? I need to know where he went to.”
“What happened?”
“I am not sure. But I am afraid he is up to no good.”
“OK, let me check right now. Please hold the line.” It clicked and John heard Roxette playing. He raised his brows. Roxette? Anyway. He pinched the bridge of his nose and patiently waited.
After several very long minutes Mycroft was back on the line.
“John, I have found him. You should hurry.”
“I would be on my way already if you would mind telling me where I need to head to!” He sounded dangerous.
“Your fucking club. He went to your club and I think we both know what he is up to.” John hung up the very second and called Ian, the owner. He picked up after the second ring.
“John, I was expecting your call. What did you do to him?” John rubbed his forehead.
“Nothing. I don’t know. I am not sure. What did you do to him?” Ian quietly laughed.
“I successfully calmed him down. You don’t have to worry. Come on over and take him home with you. He will be just fine. I gave him what he needed.”
“On my way.” John grabbed his jacket and hurried out of the flat. Outside he hailed a cab and rode over to Ian’s place. He ran up the stairs and rang the bell.
“Dr Watson. You don’t have an appointment for today, have you?”
“No, Odelle, I don’t. But I have talked to Ian. He knows.”
“It’s fine, Odelle. I take over from here.”
“Yes, Sir.” She disappeared again and Ian and John shook hands.
“John. You look stressed.”
“Ian, thanks for letting me in. I am worried about him.” Ian pulled John upstairs into his room and made him sit down.
“Try to explain.” John tried and failed.
“See? It’s complicated.”
“Anyway, he is fine now.”
“What did you do to him?”
“Want to see?” John nodded. Ian stood and switched on the TV. He moved back several minutes and John could see Sherlock enter a room with Ian.
“There you go. Just have a look. You know where to find me.” John nodded.
“Yes, I do. Thanks, Ian.” John turned to the screen and Ian left.
He saw Sherlock talk to Ian and he was agitated. Ian was calm as ever and he rather quickly had his palm on his arm. Sherlock from then on just listened to him. At the end he nodded. Two assistants entered the room and took all his clothes from him. But they did it slowly and didn’t force him. Ian watched everything and kept talking to him.
When Sherlock was naked he praised him. John saw his body straighten. He had liked this. John wondered if he had ever praised him. Had he? He didn’t know anymore.
Next the assistants started the rope bondage. They created a harness around his chest and his arms got bound on his back. His hands touched his opposite elbows. They made him sit down and Ian crouched in front of him. They talked again and at the end Sherlock slowly nodded.
Ian took over for the next part and sent his assistants away. He took two plugs and stepped up behind him. Gently he moved his longish hair behind his ears and inserted the plugs. One sense was gone.
John paled. Sherlock would loose all his senses as he had when he was taken by the Russians. Was he insane? Was this his therapy? Fuck!
Now a harness came around his head and was pulled tight. A ball-gag was placed behind his teeth and Ian adjusted the whole thing until it sat tight. Sherlock wouldn’t be able to push it out. Next a blindfold was coming over his eyes and attached to the harness, too. And finally he rubbed something under his nose. All his senses were gone now and John could see him slump. He had given in. Up?
Ian helped him up and hooked him to some ropes coming from the ceiling. He put cuffs around his ankles and pulled ropes through the ring. Then he pulled him up until he hung freely. John could see him drool. Apart from that he didn’t move at all.
John switched off the TV and left the room. He went downstairs where he found Ian with Sherlock who still hung from the ceiling. He watched him and by now he was hard.
“Why? What did he tell you?” But Ian shook his head.
“No, John. This is between him and you.” Ian stood and left the room. John looked at the restrained body. And then he stepped up. Slowly he lifted his arm and placed his palm on his head. Sherlock yelled and shook and came. John let go and moved around him until he had calmed down completely and his breathing was normal again. And only then he kissed his ankle. A deep groan was the answer and he twitched in his restraints.
Using both hands John stroked over his body until he was peaceful again. Only then he lowered him down and took off the ropes and cuffs. The harness was the last to come off and he carefully extracted the ball-gag. He was able to hear his jaw crack.
They looked into each others eyes and Sherlock smiled. He was exhausted but looked happy.
“John …” John removed the ear-plugs as well and carded through his hair. Sherlock closed his eyes again and sighed.
“Sherlock, don’t fall asleep now, please? Let’s go home.”
“But I am naked …” John grinned and pointed over to a coffee-table.
“Your clothes are right over there. Come on, get up. I will help you.” John watched him standing up and slowly walking over to his bundle of clothes. It seemed he needed no assistance. He wasn’t even looking at him.
The moment he was fully dressed again Ian returned and Sherlock turned to him.
“Thank you so much. Here, take my card.” Ian nodded and handed it over to his assistant who followed him down.
“You are welcome, Mr Holmes. It was a pleasure.” Sherlock smiled.
“It was perfect.” His card was returned and he put it back into his wallet. He passed by Ian and said:
“Come along, John.” John lowered his head and sighed. He looked at Ian who tilted his head. John shrugged and followed Sherlock.
“You need to talk!” Ian called after him but John just closed the door and didn’t answer. Outside Sherlock had already hailed a cab. John hurried up and they rode home.
Sherlock shed his coat and shoes and plonked on the sofa. John prepared tea and brought their mugs over. He sat on the coffee-table.
“I was worried. Why did you just leave?” Sherlock stared at the ceiling. He worried his lower lip. John patiently waited.
“I felt pushed back this morning. You didn’t touch me. You fled my bed and my room.”
“I didn’t want to touch you with my hard-on. I am sorry. I thought …”
“Well, since I studied your browser history very intently I knew where to go to get what I needed. Wanted.”
“Ian showed me the recording.”
“I allowed it.”
“I touched you while you were suspended.” Sherlock stilled but still looked up at the ceiling.
“The touch on my head felt explosive. It was amazing. All my fear vanished into thin air.”
“You yelled, screamed and violently came.”
“Really? Oh …”
“I also kissed your ankle.”
“That felt good, too.”
“You looked sexy hanging there.” That comment made Sherlock react. He smiled.
“Well, I hoped you would like what you see. Plus, it made me feel better.”
“I already told you, Sherlock, I am not able to read your mind. You need to tell me what you want.”
“It’s not easy for me to do so. I am, I was, not sure what I really wanted.”
“Do you know what I want now?” John could see him swallow.
“No?”
“Please look at me, Sherlock.” Slowly he turned his head to face John.
“What is it?”
“I would like to take you to bed.” For just a second Sherlock’s eyes widened. Then he jumped up, grabbed John and raced off into his room.