A/N Hey My Lovelies!!!! So I saw something on Tumblr that inspired me. I love tattoos and other kinds of body art. (I have 7 tats myself lol) I will include the start of the design for the tattoo (I can't find my art supplies to do the full picture) Just picture it fully realistic with lots of details sitting in front of the sheet music for The Watson Waltz. I will post a picture of the final product when I finish it. Enjoy <3

*Also....Just a side note for anyone that is interested...John uses an old technique for tattooing where he only uses a single needle machine and only black ink. It's a difficult technique because most modern machines have 2-3 needles for shading and the artists make their greys by mixing black and white inks. This technique that John uses involves diluting the black ink with water to change the color. Just a bit of trivia for My Lovelies <3 (Sorry, I'm a bit of a tattoo geek)

John was moving back into Baker Street and Sherlock couldn't be happier. Mary was gone and since she took the baby with her when she left, John could return to working with Sherlock full time. They were just moving the last of John's stuff back into his old room when Sherlock found the box. It was clearly old, covered in dust and stained with dirt. He placed it on the kitchen table and opened it, wiping the dust off his hands before reaching in and pulling out an envelope. It was filled with old photographs. It was easy for Sherlock to pick out John in the pictures. He looked like what he looked like now, though his hair was shaggier and there was less sadness on his face. He looked like the type of boy that would have bullied Sherlock in Uni.

"What are you looking at Sherlock?" John's voice shocked Sherlock out of his thoughts. He handed his flatmate the pictures, not sure what to think. "Holy shit, I forgot I still had these. Where did you find them?" John sat across from Sherlock, shifting through the photos with a soft smile on his face.

"In this box." Sherlock pushed it towards John, still thinking of what John would have been like in Uni. He watched as John enthusiastically dug through the box, chattering on about all the old memories the items were bringing up. He pulled out a black case, smiling fondly at it before setting it aside without saying anything. "What is that?"

"Hmm? Oh, that? Its nothing important." That piqued Sherlock's interest and he automatically reached for the case. "Sherlock!" John cried as Sherlock grabbed the case and ran out of the kitchen. He made it to his room and slammed the door closed, locking it behind him. He heard John banging on the door begging him to give him back the case. He ignored the pleas and opened it, ending up with more questions than answers.

Inside the case was a tattoo machine.

He was in shock. Why in the hell did John have a tattoo machine? John didn't even have tattoos. Did he? Sherlock had never seen John naked, not fully at least, and he had never seen any ink on the army doctor's skin. The thought of John with tattoos intrigued the detective in a way that he hadn't been in a while. He shook the image from his mind and closed the case, standing and walking to the door. He opened the door to find John standing in the hall. His face was red and he was shaking, he looked horrifically embarrassed.

"John?"

"Yes Sherlock?"

"Why do you have a tattoo machine?" John rubbed his hands over his face, growling as he did.

"It's a long story."

"Shorten it."

"Fine!" He motioned for Sherlock to follow him into the sitting room. When they were seated, John sighed and leaned forward, taking the case from Sherlock's hands and looking at it. "This was how I made money during Uni. You would be surprised how many tattoos one can do on Friday nights on a university campus. I did a few in the army to, but I was never comfortable with doing them in the desert. Not the most sanitary environment."

"Do you have any tattoos?"

"Yeah, I got one after I left the army."

"Can I see?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because it's private."

"Is it on your ass?" John sputtered, his face turning beet red and his eyes widening.

"No! God, I'm not talking about this." John stood, walking into the kitchen, leaving Sherlock sitting in awe.

"Would you give me a tattoo?" The words fell from his mouth before he could stop them. He heard John drop what sounded like a spoon and slowly walk back into the sitting room.

"You- you want a tattoo?" John sounded shocked, almost as shocked as Sherlock felt.

"Apparently."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because, you don't want a tattoo. You just want to experiment with me, see how doing something from my past affects me. I won't be experimented on again."

"John, I really want a tattoo. I wouldn't have asked you to tattoo me if I didn't."

"No. I am not going to tattoo you. End of story."

It was several weeks before Sherlock could convince John to do the tattoo, and another few weeks before John felt comfortable enough to do it.

"Have you decided what you want?"

"Yes."

"I'll need a reference picture."

"I want you to choose John."

"What?"

"You know me better than anyone, and I trust you." John scrunched his face, clearly thinking as to whether he should do it or not. The truth was that Sherlock had no idea what he wanted.

"Fine, but you have to trust me completely. That means you can't look at it until I have finished it."

"Deal."

"Seriously?"

"Yes John. I told you, I trust you completely."

A few days later, Sherlock came back from a meeting with Lestrade to find John in the sitting room, setting up his tattoo machine. He had pulled the kitchen table and chairs into the room and covered them in clean sheets. There was antiseptic on the table as well as some gauze and small pots of black ink lined up along the table.

"Ready?" John asked, looking up from the machine in his hands. Sherlock felt a flash of nervousness, but that was quickly erased by the flare of arousal that took over him. John was wearing a black t-shirt that looked just a hair too small for him that had some sort of band logo on it. He looked way too casual and Sherlock had never seen anything so sexy. He managed a nod and moved to sit in the chair across the table from his flatmate. "Left, or right?"

"Sorry?"

"Which arm would you rather I tattoo? Left, or right?"

"Oh, sorry, right." John grabbed his wrist and positioned it on the table. He grabbed a razor and shaved Sherlock's arm before sanitizing the skin. Once he finished that, he grabbed a piece of cardboard with a chunk cut out of the bottom and placed it over Sherlock's arm, cutting off his view. He could see everything but his arm.

"This isn't the first time you've done this, is it?"

"Nope. You have no idea how excited drunk college girls get when you give them a surprise tattoo. Got a lot of tail back then." He winked at Sherlock, causing the detective to swallow heavily. "If you need to stop or you think you are going to flinch, tell me and I will stop. It may get a little painful around here," He ran his fingers along the inner side of Sherlock's arm, sending sparks along his body. "and here." Warm fingers traced his wrist, and Sherlock had to fight the urge to whimper. He had been attracted to John since day one and seeing him like this was not helping anything.

John used his pinky to rub something that looked like petroleum jelly over the skin. Sherlock watched as he grabbed a sheet of a strange looking paper and pressed it against the skin of his forearm.

"What's that?" Sherlock was curious about the process.

"The design. The jelly helps transfer the ink from the paper onto the skin so I have lines to follow." John answered all of Sherlock's questions patiently, seeming to enjoy explaining things. "Last chance to back out. You're still sure?" Sherlock nodded, stomach tightening as he watched John grab the machine and fiddle with the needle for a moment before stepping on the pedal and turning it on.

The first few moments weren't so bad, it only stung lightly. John was incredibly focused, yet at the same time, he was more relaxed than Sherlock had seen him in a long time. He looked like he was meant to do this, and it was driving Sherlock insane with need.

The whole process took about three hours. It started to hurt after the second hour, but it still wasn't as bad as Sherlock had heard. John pulled back, washing the tender skin once more before setting his machine down and peeling off the black gloves he had been wearing.

"There, its done." Sherlock nodded and closed his eyes, feeling John wipe the skin a final time before pulling away the cardboard. When Sherlock opened his eyes, his breath hitched, catching in his throat.

The design he had chosen was stunning, a black and grey violin resting between a pair of broken angel wings. It was surrounded by music notes, laying out a familiar melody on his arm.

"The Waltz." He whispered, feeling his heart swell at the sight.

"I know you didn't write that song for mine and Mary's wedding." John's voice was equally as soft, and when Sherlock caught his eyes he saw something he hadn't seen in a long time. In the eyes of John Watson, Sherlock saw love.

"I-it's beautiful John." Sherlock felt overwhelmed with emotions as he studied the tattoo. "How did you know?"

"You wrote it years before I met her, back when we first met Irene. For the longest time, I thought you wrote it for her. Then you played it at my wedding and I connected the dots. I was the common denominator. You wrote it for me." John's voice was quivering as he spoke, his eyes filling with tears.

"John-"

"I'm sorry Sherlock. I should have figured it out sooner-" Sherlock cut him off with a kiss, soft, awkward, and filled with unspoken words.

"I love it John." The doctor grinned, leaning forward to kiss Sherlock again.

"I'm sorry, as much as I am enjoying this, I have to clean and wrap your arm."

"You are such a doctor."

"I can't help it."

"I'm not complaining."

"Oh? Do I sense a kink Mr. Holmes?" Sherlock flushed deeply and John laughed, a full-bodied laugh that Sherlock hadn't seen since their first night together.

"Show me your tattoo." He tried to change the subject, desperate to not discuss his sexual preferences with John. At least not yet.

"I sense another kink." John's voice had turned to a singsong tone and Sherlock's face turned a darker red. "Wow, I never would've guessed that you, of all people, would be squeamish about discussing kinks."

"I'm not squeamish."

"Really? Then answer this; does the thought of seeing my tattoo makeyou-" Sherlock cut him off with a kiss. "Hmm, this is going to be fun." Theygiggled while John wrapped Sherlock's tattoo.