A/N Hey My Lovelies!!! Here is another chapter!!! SMUT WARNING!!! it would appear I also have an affinity for Captain Watson lol....Enjoy<3

"Sherlock! For fucks sake!" John shouted, ducking as the young man fired another shot into the wall above his head. He sprung up and grabbed the gun from Sherlock's hand, disengaging the weapon with ease and placing it back in his book-bag. "I told you not to take that! It's not registered, I could get arrested."

"I'm bored John!"

"I know you're bored, but you don't seem to like any of my suggestions. What do you want to do?" John yelped as Sherlock gripped his arm and pulled him back onto his lap. The pale man latched onto his neck, nipping at the skin and pulling a soft, needy sound from John's throat.

"Other than you? Nothing at all." John grinned and adjusted his position on Sherlock's lap, giving the younger man better access to his neck. Sherlock's condition had improved quite a bit over the past few weeks, but John was still slightly hesitant when it came to physical activities. The laceration on his stomach was still mostly open, mainly since Sherlock kept ripping the stitches open.

"S-Sherlock-"

"Hmm. I love how sensitive you are Captain Watson. It makes me want to see what kinds of sounds I can get you to make if I take my time." John whimpered as Sherlock bit down on his pulse point. He moved so he was straddling the thin man's lap, kissing him deeply and letting him tug his shirt over his head.

"I'm hoping this means my brother is healed enough to return to work." John jumped from Sherlock's lap, straightening his clothes as best he could and blushing furiously. A tall man stood in the doorway, leaning on an umbrella with a smug expression.

"Mycroft, what a pleasure. Your timing is, as ever, perfect." Sherlock's tone was dripping with sarcasm as he rolled his eyes, standing and turning to face the new man.

"M-Mycroft? This is your brother?" John's face heated further and he became very aware of the fact that his shirt was currently hanging off the back of the sofa.

"Yes John, this is my brother."

"Pleasure to actually meet you in person Mr. Watson." John smirked and waved slightly at Mycroft, his discomfort reaching new heights. "I must say Sherlock, I'm slightly jealous. You appear to have landed quite the doctor." John choked on his breath, lapsing into a coughing fit.

"Please tell me you didn't watch our tape?" Sherlock sounded disgusted, his face turning a bright red as he glared at his brother.

"Of course, I didn't, don't be absurd Brother Mine. I have however, seen some of the infamous Captain Watson's videos. You are quite the presence onscreen Captain." The other man stepped closer to John, causing the shorter man to back away. He backed into Sherlock, who pulled him close and all but growled at his brother.

"Why are you here Mycroft? Fighting with Geoff again?"

"My relationship with Greg is none of your concern."

"Same as my relationship with John."

"Fine. I was asked to come and see when you can return to work." Sherlock's arms tightened around John's waist.

"You will have to ask John. He is my doctor." John felt his chest tighten as the odd mix of affection and protectiveness he heard in Sherlock's voice. He cleared his throat and straightened as much as he could.

"Yeah, not for another couple of weeks. The wound on his stomach is still healing, and not well at that. I'm not comfortable with him returning to filming with it still open like that."

"But you are more than comfortable with having sex with him yourself?"

"T-That's not-"

"I think it's time you left, Brother Dear." Sherlock snapped, leaning down and kissing John's neck. Mycroft huffed uncomfortably, glaring at the pair before straightening.

"Very well, I will be in touch. Mummy is expecting you for dinner on Sunday, Brother Mine." He turned to walk out, pausing just at the threshold. "Bring your companion. I'm sure Mummy would love to hear how you two met." With that, he left, leaving John and Sherlock alone.

"Well, he's a peach." John didn't bother to hide the sarcasm in his tone as he finally relaxed back into Sherlock's arms, tilting his head so the taller man could have more access to his neck. Sherlock continued kissing and sucking lightly.

"Hmm. Told you he is unpleasant to deal with."

"Yeah. Wait, is he dating Greg? As in, Greg With The Clipboard? The one you keep calling Gavin?"

"Unfortunately, yes. They met on set one day when Mycroft came to sign some contracts. Have been together ever since."

"That's a little weird." John gasped as Sherlock spun him in his arms, catching his lips in a searing kiss. He moaned softly as Sherlock's skilled tongue licked gently into his mouth.

"You know, all this talk of my brother and Gavin is really putting a damper on my mood." John was breathless, nearly gasping as he was pushed back against the sofa, falling onto the cushions. Sherlock climbed onto his lap and kissed him again, running his cold fingers along John's chest. "Please John, let me take you. I'm strong enough. My ribs don't hurt anymore and my concussion is long gone. If it makes you more comfortable you can take me. Please, j-just- please."

"S-Sherlock- Your- your stomach-"

"It hasn't bled in days, and the stitches are holding." Sherlock kissed him again, pulling off his own shirt and showing John the bandages. John checked the wound, still not confident in the stitches holding.

"Sherlock, they won't hold. And I would rather not have to hold back with you." Sherlock let out a needy sound and kissed him again, biting at his bottom lip and sucking gently. John could feel his self control slipping with each move the younger man made. Sherlock made a noise of frustration and pushed back, sitting on his heels and tugging at his hair. He looked thoroughly dishevelled, even though nothing had happened yet.

There was something different about this Sherlock, the need and desperation on his face making him look younger, less cold.

"Please tell me you want this as badly as I do John. Tell me I haven't misread this." Sherlock whispered, looking slightly helpless. John grinned and pulled the younger man down for a tender kiss. "Tell me what I can do, John. Please, tell me." Sherlock spoke through gentle kisses, and John felt a spark of excitement light in his gut.

"You want me to command you?" He asked, gripping Sherlock's curls in his hand and pulling him down to growl the words in the younger man's ear. "You want me to tell you what you can and cannot do?" Sherlock whimpered and nodded, scrabbling for purchase against John's chest. The shorter man chuckled darkly as he bit Sherlock's earlobe gently, pulling a whine from the young man.

"J-John-"

"Never would have pegged you as a submissive Mr. Holmes. I think I might enjoy this." He tightened his grip on Sherlock's hair, enjoying the moan that fell from the man's lips. He pulled until Sherlock's lips were hovering just above his, not quite touching, but close enough to feel each other's breath. "Look at you, so desperate for just the slightest taste of me. Is that what you want Sherlock?" The younger man nodded, crying out as John tightened his grip on the dark curls. "Answer me Sherlock."

"Y-Yes John-"

"Sorry?"

"Y-Yes Captain Watson." John smirked and leaned to whisper in the submissive young man's ear again.

"Better. Now, on your knees like a good soldier. Show me what you can do with that clever mouth of yours." Sherlock scrambled to obey, dropping to his knees between John's legs and fighting with his belt.

Sherlock finally got his trousers open and John lifted his hips so he could pull them off. He stopped once the trousers were gone, looking up at John with wide eyes. John was almost painfully hard, just watching the young man kneeling in front of him.

"I thought I told you to show me what that pretty mouth of yours can do." Sherlock's eyes widened further and he licked his lips.

"Yes Captain." John's head dropped back against the back of the sofa as Sherlock's cold fingers gripped him, stroking him gently a few times before taking him into his mouth.

"Fuck Sherlock." He moaned as he watched the young man between his knees. He had almost forgotten just how talented Sherlock's mouth was. He seemed to know all the right places to drive John insane with need. "Oh, you're a good little soldier, aren't you Sherlock?" He felt it as Sherlock moaned around him, sending pleasant vibrations along his shaft. He tangled his fingers in the dark curls, tugging just hard enough to pull a moan from the younger man. "God, I can't wait until you're healed. The things I'm going to do to you." Sherlock whimpered, pulling off John's member and looking up at John.

His lips were red and swollen, glistening with saliva and pre-come. His normally pale eyes were darkened with lust, the pupils blown wide.

"Fuck you're gorgeous." John whispered, pulling the young man up to catch his lips in a passionate kiss. He dipped his tongue into Sherlock's mouth, tasting himself as he did and whimpering. He felt Sherlock wrap his hand around his member and moaned.

He didn't last much longer, spilling over his chest and Sherlock's hand.

Once he regained some of his wits, he opened his eyes, catching sight of Sherlock, still kneeling in front of him. He hadn't touched himself, waiting for his Captain's command. John grinned at him, cupping his cheek and kissing him softly.

"Such a good boy. Come up here Gorgeous." Sherlock climbed into his lap, straddling his hips and tucking his face into the crook of John's neck. "God you're perfect. Let me help you with that." He pulled open Sherlock's trousers and took him in hand, relishing the gasp that came from the young man.

He stroked Sherlock's member, tightening his grip when he reached the head, running his fingers over the slit and smearing pre-come around. Sherlock started trembling above him, his breath becoming ragged as he started squirming.

"J-John-"

"God, Sherlock you are gorgeous. Look at you, so desperate to come. Do you want to come Sherlock?" The younger man nodded, rocking his hips into John's fist desperately. John stilled his hand and stopped Sherlock's hips, earning a whine from him. "I asked you a question."

"G-God- yes, please Jo- Captain. Please let me come."

"That's better." John growled as he started stroking Sherlock again, adding just the right amount of pressure. It only took a few more pumps before Sherlock was coming, spilling over John's chest and hand with a cry. He collapsed on top of John, breathing heavily and trembling. John held him through the aftershocks, whispering praise in his ear and rubbing his back.

Once he felt confident that Sherlock was coming down, he pushed the pile of limbs off his chest before standing. He gathered Sherlock in his arms and helped him into the bathroom. He ran a shower for them both, cleaning their mess tenderly and thoroughly, taking care with Sherlock's wound. Once they were both clean, he pulled the sleepy young man from the shower and dried him off before walking him into the bedroom.

They both fell asleep, Sherlock wrapped protectively in John's arms.