Sherlock tugged John down against him further, losing himself a bit in the fantastic kiss. He moaned against his lips in response to John's, his fingers tightening on his neck when John gripped at his hair. He whined a bit when John pulled back, his eyes snapping open to give him a 'why are you stopping?' look. He grinned at his words, realizing then that John was stopping because otherwise he'd be right back to fucking him again to the point where they may never leave. He'd be more than fine with that, actually
Although, he did miss their bed quite a bit after being stuck in his own and left thinking that he'd never get to sleep next to John again. He nodded with a smile at John's words, eyes flashing mischievously at his words. "Absolutely." he purred, reluctantly allowing John up as he sat up himself. He caught his clothing, standing up and pulling them on in his eagerness to get home and collapse into bed with the man he loved. He held a hand out for his shirt, tilting his head when John didn't give it to him right away. He smirked when he realized what John was doing, following his captive belt loops to lean in and kiss him hotly. He didn't care that the camera was on, nor that someone could walk by at any moment. All that mattered was that John was kissing him.
The sultry snog turned soft and finally broke off, allowing them a quiet moment where all John could do was smile and feel Sherlock's breath against his face. Taking a deep breath, he let it out slowly. Sliding the man's shirt on over his shoulders, John got him to put both limbs into the arms and began buttoning it for him. Putting Sherlock back into his clothes was just as sexy to him as taking them off, as John worked to tuck his shirt into his trousers and fix the cuffs up.
When he was finished, John helped him into his suit jacket before working his own shirt and jumper back on. John turned to him again and held out his hand for the man to take. Getting home was now first and foremost on his mind. And once there, he never wanted to leave his bed, so long as Sherlock was laying right there next to him.
That kiss was all sorts of brilliant, Sherlock taking deep breaths to compensate for the kiss had successfully stolen it. He grinned when John urged him to aid in getting him dressed again, never feeling so perfectly doted on as he did when he was with John. It was such a simple thing, but it showcased his dedication to him wonderfully. He brought him into a brief one-armed hug when he was fully dressed, reaching out after to aid John in getting dressed too. He normally would hate any venture to clothe John, but he was feeling quite good at the moment and wanted to return the favor. Besides, the sooner they got dressed, the sooner they could get home and get naked again.
He took John's hand right away, exiting the sleep lab with him to set off down the hall. He took a quick moment to grab up his coat and scarf from the lab and put them on, almost immediately taking John's hand again to lead him outside. He started to feel John's release slowly making it's way down his leg, making him shudder faintly and succeeding in arousing the hell out of him. He impatiently waved a cab over, dragging John in after him and pulling him right up against him. He distractedly gave the cabbie their address, his fingers already working at John's fly. He watched him intently as he put his hand around him and began to stroke, determined to get John off before they made it home. Well, unless he wanted to be a prat and get him so close before backing off and leaving him wanting so he'd tackle him just as soon as they got in the door. He thought about it as he wanked him, a bit distracted by watching John's expressions.
If Sherlock knew how strangely wonderful it was to be crushed against him, feeling the fine fabrics of his Spenser Hart suit against his bare chest, he might've laughed at him. As it was, this was one of the little things he was becoming acutely aware of in the presence of a man he couldn't possibly live without.
They exited the hospital, trying their best not to giggle at the high and excitement still rumbling through their veins. It wasn't until they were in the cab and on their way home that John realized how desperate he actually was for that wank. As Sherlock breathlessly spoke their address, those nimble fingers worked his fly open. It was spectacularly arousing to try and keep ahold of himself while Sherlock's deft fingers slid around his pulsing member. Hips gave a soft buck when he pushed his boxers down and behind his scrotum, John biting back a moan.
John was rather certain he's never felt so disturbingly aroused in the presence of excluded company. Reaching a hand out to curl a fist into that scarf, John tugged him down into a molten hot kiss, groping the man's lapels in an attempt to tug him in closer.
Breaking the kiss to allow him his panting breaths, John kept his eyes closed while that hand rubbed fiercely at his prick, mouth falling agape at the sensations. The man's hand was pulling a little roughly, John forcing his palm off for a moment. Holding his wrist, John slathered his tongue across Sherlock's palm to slick it and let it return once again to his shaft. He fed another moan-laden kiss into the detective's mouth when the added saliva brought about a smoother, more arousing stroke.
Sherlock was absolutely pleased with the fact that John had been getting so adventurous as far as places to have sex. The adrenaline rush was utterly gratifying, sure that he may even be able to forgo casework if it meant he got to have sex with John, the addition of the thrill of possibility getting caught just an added bonus.
His eyes flashed deviously when he saw how hard John was trying not to cry out, feeling his own erection already start to strain against his trousers. That wasn't important to him right now, though. All he could think about was John and the need to make him feel amazing. He kissed back enthusiastically, decidedly not caring if the cabbie saw at this point. He gave John a curious look when he pulled his hand off, desperate with yearning to get back to it. His fingers twitched and he bit his lip at the half-ticklish half-arousing action of John licking his hand. He moved his hand back as soon as he could, realizing then just how much easier it was with that bit of lubrication. He kissed him hard, letting his thumb brush over the tip of his erection with each stroke. John was beautiful like this, he decided, never wanting the moans and longing kisses to end.
Accidentally biting down on the man's lip, it came as a direct correlation to the feeling of his nail scraping the very sensitive head. John tried to kiss away the bite, only finding that having bitten Sherlock the man was attacking him even harder. His fingers tightened around the scarf, holding him there as if his life depended solely on this. John was already leaking copious amounts of pre-cum across Sherlock's fingers, aiding in the friction of that far too skilled hand.
"Sher--nngh," the doctor choked on his cry, finding that wave of pleasure to be almost unstoppable. He had to break into that cry of his lover's name with a strangled grunt. A hand was thrown out to the side to slap the seat back, suddenly feeling like he was falling backwards. "Ohmigod, Sherlock ... " That was a 'don't stop' sort of sound, one that had the cabbie clearing his throat. Not that either of them heard it, or cared.
Sherlock couldn't stifle a groan of his own when John bit his lip. He growled and pushed even harder against his lips at the sting of pain that seemed to send lightning down his spine. He was sure he could never get enough of this, the way John squirmed and held his scarf making him feel more needed than he ever had before. He needed John too, more than he could ever say.
He drank in the way he said his name, utterly addicted to the way it sounded on John's lips. He wrapped his free arm around John when he braced himself against the seat, a wordless assurance that he had him. Any thoughts of making John wait until they got inside to come were gone in an instant, kissing hungrily at his neck as he pulled him off at a frenetic pace. He murmured John's name against his neck, kissing and biting and licking him feverishly. "Come for me." he purred against his ear, working his hand faster as he nipped at his ear.
This was too much, far far too much. He was thrown for a loop, having never experienced such a thrill as this so soon, so close after the last, so much. Too much. He let his head fall back against the seat as Sherlock grabbed for him. It was a mess of frantic emotions and desperate actions, but what it was most of all was love. Not just longing, lusting, carnal desire. It was love.
John tilted his head to the side as Sherlock nipped kisses over his neck, turning just enough that his breath tickled just right. Sherlock's voice thrummed through every cell of his body and John was given permission. "Sherlock!" came his cry, trying and failing miserably to keep it low and private. Thick ropes splashed over the back of the detective's hand, making a disastrous mess all over the front of his jeans.
John slumped his head -- or rather hid his face in Sherlock's scarf, taking deep, hard breaths as his orgasm was violently pulled from him. He was writhing in his seat like an antsy primary school boy, an unmistakable look of glorious release painted clear as crystal across his features. When he could get his mind back into his head, all he could do was sit and stare at him with a smile and panting breaths to ruffle the curls near his lover's eyes.
Incorrigible, brilliant, wonderfully dapper mother fucker John thought with a satisfied grin. His lids drifted half shut in his daze, his body calming down and settling in for the rest of the ride. He never wanted to take his eyes off of him. He sucked his bottom lip between his teeth as he smiled.
"You ... are going to be the wonderfully satiated death of me, Sherlock Holmes ... " He affectionately pet his cheek, finding his limbs felt terribly like rubber at the moment. He was afraid Sherlock was going to have to give him a piggy-back ride up the stairs to their flat after an orgasm like that.
Sherlock was absolutely grateful that John had suggested this, enjoying this more than he really ought to. John was gorgeous like this, writhing and panting with desire for him. The thought that only he could elicit such a reaction in the doctor spurred him on, his heart leaping in his chest when he heard his name said like that. He kissed John's neck softer now as he wrung each bit of pleasure from him, cradling him close and feeling him relax in the aftermath. He kissed the top of John's head when he buried his face in his scarf, the swell of affection he felt for him almost painful in its intensity.
He just held him like that for a long moment, finally pulling back just enough to turn his head and lap the evidence off his hand. Well, most of the evidence, anyway. He couldn't help but smile himself when John smiled, as per usual. He chuckled softly at his words, nuzzling his hand for a moment before leaning in to kiss him chastely. He sighed contentedly, pulling John further into his arms to practically wrap him up in his coat as the ride continued. He took a moment to tuck John back into his jeans, sucking his fingers clean after he'd brushed against the mess still left on his pants. "You need to make suggestions like this more often." he said, leaning against John and closing his eyes as he held onto him like a child hugging a teddy bear.
Feeling the thundering of his heart in his ears, John just couldn't believe how wonderful that shared moment of pleasure had been. And now he was being scooped up and gathered into an embrace without asking for it. The rocking of the taxi and the warm smell of Sherlock's musk in his nostrils had John trying to burrow into his boyfriend's arms.
Lazy, cum tainted kisses were returned and John settled in to become Sherlock's personal warm teddy. He offered up a pleasurable hum to his comment that they should do this more often, arms coming around his middle, sliding within the warmth of that long coat to hug the slender man to him.
"Love you ... " he whispered against Sherlock's jaw, kissing his way to his lips again. Shortly after, he settled in for the rest of the ride.
Before he could fully fall asleep, they taxi came to a halt in front of their door and Sherlock was rousing the sleepy doctor into getting out of the cab. John stood very much like a zombie, his day having been very long and extremely energy zapping. Once Sherlock paid the man and the taxi drove away, the second he felt Sherlock against his side, he leaned heavily on him and awaited him to open the door.
Sherlock squeezed John tight against him, grinning at how John was still trying to press closer when they were already as close as possible. He kissed him gently and happily, just enjoying his warmth in the pleasant afterglow.
He nuzzled his hair when he felt John's arms come around him, snuggling as close to him as he could. He would never get tired of the feeling of butterflies in his stomach he got every time he heard John say he loved him. "I love you-" he said, missing adding the 'too' when he got too impatient and had to kiss John again. They both went quiet after that, Sherlock just holding on to him and stroking his hair as he felt John start to doze off in his arms.
When the cab stopped, he nudged John gently and whispered into his ear. "We're home, love." he said, paying their driver and practically dragging John out the door. He smiled affectionately when John leaned on him, kissing his temple before slipping an arm around his back to steady him as he unlocked the door. He ended up supporting quite a bit of John's weight as he pulled him upstairs. He didn't mind, really, though he did feel a bit fatigued when they finally reached the flat. He bit back the uneasy feeling that it was because the withdrawal was catching up with him, focusing instead on getting John upstairs to their bed.
After depositing John onto the bed, he worked at shedding his clothes down to his shorts before climbing over John to start tugging his clothing off his as well. When they were both down to their knickers, he settled on top of him with his head pillowed on his chest, shivering a bit as his skin turned clammy. "Tell me it's all fine." he said shakily, needing to hear it now more than ever.
John watched lazily from the bed as Sherlock undressed, noting how slow and careful he was being. When John started to drift off, it wasn't until he felt hands at his jeans that he realized he was falling asleep. Helping Sherlock, albeit barely, John closed his arms up and around Sherlock's shoulders when the nearly naked man came to lay on top of him.
It was coming. Knowing the pain that was to come wasn't nearly as bad as the anticipation leading up to it. His beautiful boyfriend was going to be reduced to a shivering, sweaty mess. He's going to feel like death is warming over him yet again shortly, and it will feel like nothing can be done. All John can do is be here to hold him and give him mediocre medications for the side effects. There was nothing worse feeling to a doctor than knowing there's little that can be done to stop the inevitable withdrawl other than to be there with him the whole time.
John's lids were barely able to keep open, but he wanted to prove to Sherlock he was still there. He gave the man a good squeeze with the last of his muscle strength and whispered into his curls, "It's all fine. All of it. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere." The detective's skin was starting to warm up, John inching his fingers down to the waistband of his knickers.
Fingers gently brushed across the man's lower back, feeling the muscles already twitching involuntarily. "I love you, Sherlock." He spoke with his eyes closed, lips resting in those curls and feeling nothing but the need to repeat himself over and over again. Sleep deprivation did that, John wishing that he didn't get carried away in that sleep lab. It was becoming impossible for him to stay awake now.
Unless ... oh Gods, John. The idea of Sherlock shagging him awake and into a second wind suddenly brought on all sorts of adrenaline pumping thoughts, despite his body giving up a massive protest. He yawned and stretched beneath Sherlock, finding his body responding without his mind telling it to. No, Gods no, look at him. He's in no fit shape, John.
The doctor closed his eyes and let out a slow exhale. Just shut it and try to get some sleep. Yes, that's it John. Sleep.
John's arms around him were comforting, which he absolutely needed right now. He shivered in his arms, pressing as close as possible and nuzzling into his neck with his eyes squeezed shut. He was tensed up until John squeezed him and whispered in his ear, relaxing just slightly at the reassuring words breathed against his ear. John was here for him, he knew that, but he still needed to hear it just then.
He took a deep, shaky breath as John's hands moved over his skin, trying to keep relaxed and not start to panic as the symptoms set in. He pressed a kiss to John's neck when he said he loved him. "I -nn- love you too." he said softly, put ill at ease by the broken sound of his own voice to his ears. He shuddered again and curled tighter against John, his fingers gripping hard at his arms in an unconscious reaction to the pain. He started kissing John's neck to distract himself, needing to take breaks every few moments to stop and pant against his skin. He tried to stop and keep still when John seemed to be close to sleep, but he couldn't help shivering and clinging desperately to him.
"Do...do you want me to move so you can sleep?" he asked quietly, not wanting to relocate, but also not wanting to keep John awake by shaking and whimpering against him.
"Absolutely not," he muttered, still falling asleep. His eyes were closed now and would not open unless pried awake. "M'gonna nap, but if you need me you wake me ... for anything, alright?" He pulled his hands away from the waistband of his pants and brought it back up to thread into his dampening curls.
To feel the weight of him against him, John was content even if he didn't get any sleep for the next three days. Sherlock needed him, and his sleep wasn't important. He tried to keep his hands moving up and down Sherlock's back, soothing and comforting as best he could as consciousness seemed to slip.
John was remarkable for letting him stay, Sherlock thought. He would do the same for him, of course, but he was still getting used to that part of relationships where you do things just to make the other happy or more comfortable. He was certainly as comfortable here as he was going to get, nestled into his spot half on top of John. John's fingers in his hair were welcome, feeling a bit of the tensity in his shoulders leave him at the gentle massage. God, he loved him for that. "I love you." he said again because he had to let him know it.
He lost himself for a few moments in feeling John stroke his back, enjoying it while it lasted before John fell asleep. He stayed in his spot until he was sure John was really asleep. He slipped out of his arms then, needing a shower more than anything right now. He slipped out of his shorts and turned on the water, making it a bit colder than usual. He turned on the shower and sat down in the tub, draping his arms over the sides as he just let the water wash over him. He stayed like that for a bit before finally dragging himself out and drying off. He grabbed his dressing gown and wrapped it about himself, feeling slightly better since all the sweat was rinsed off his body. He moved to the kitchen, setting the kettle to boil and preparing two mugs for tea.
He went back upstairs when the tea was ready, placing the two cups on the nightstand before slipping out of his dressing gown to climb back in bed. John's arm was stretched in that perfect way so that Sherlock could snuggle right under his arm without disturbing his sleep. He heaved a sigh, still feeling a little ill but much better now that he was clean and back in John's arms.
"Mmn, love you ... " he whispered just before slipping completely into unconsciousness. When this happened, John was out like a light and slept like the dead. He didn't even feel Sherlock get up and leave him, he was that exhausted.
The bed dipped again and a warm body once more joined him, John smelling the renewed scent of his soap and shampoo. His sleepy mind said he'd just showered and John shifted to hug him close when he returned to his side. He gave a soft little sniff and peaked an eye open to look through Sherlock's wet curls and see the matching mugs of tea on the nightstand.
John grinned and let out a huff of breath against Sherlock's brow. 'He made me tea. Unbelievable,' John thought. He squeezed him tighter and let out a soft sleepy moan as he shifted to lazily kiss the top of Sherlock's head. He muttered something close to a 'thank you' and didn't let up on his teddy bear like hug.
Although, he did miss their bed quite a bit after being stuck in his own and left thinking that he'd never get to sleep next to John again. He nodded with a smile at John's words, eyes flashing mischievously at his words. "Absolutely." he purred, reluctantly allowing John up as he sat up himself. He caught his clothing, standing up and pulling them on in his eagerness to get home and collapse into bed with the man he loved. He held a hand out for his shirt, tilting his head when John didn't give it to him right away. He smirked when he realized what John was doing, following his captive belt loops to lean in and kiss him hotly. He didn't care that the camera was on, nor that someone could walk by at any moment. All that mattered was that John was kissing him.
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When he was finished, John helped him into his suit jacket before working his own shirt and jumper back on. John turned to him again and held out his hand for the man to take. Getting home was now first and foremost on his mind. And once there, he never wanted to leave his bed, so long as Sherlock was laying right there next to him.
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He took John's hand right away, exiting the sleep lab with him to set off down the hall. He took a quick moment to grab up his coat and scarf from the lab and put them on, almost immediately taking John's hand again to lead him outside. He started to feel John's release slowly making it's way down his leg, making him shudder faintly and succeeding in arousing the hell out of him. He impatiently waved a cab over, dragging John in after him and pulling him right up against him. He distractedly gave the cabbie their address, his fingers already working at John's fly. He watched him intently as he put his hand around him and began to stroke, determined to get John off before they made it home. Well, unless he wanted to be a prat and get him so close before backing off and leaving him wanting so he'd tackle him just as soon as they got in the door. He thought about it as he wanked him, a bit distracted by watching John's expressions.
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They exited the hospital, trying their best not to giggle at the high and excitement still rumbling through their veins. It wasn't until they were in the cab and on their way home that John realized how desperate he actually was for that wank. As Sherlock breathlessly spoke their address, those nimble fingers worked his fly open. It was spectacularly arousing to try and keep ahold of himself while Sherlock's deft fingers slid around his pulsing member. Hips gave a soft buck when he pushed his boxers down and behind his scrotum, John biting back a moan.
John was rather certain he's never felt so disturbingly aroused in the presence of excluded company. Reaching a hand out to curl a fist into that scarf, John tugged him down into a molten hot kiss, groping the man's lapels in an attempt to tug him in closer.
Breaking the kiss to allow him his panting breaths, John kept his eyes closed while that hand rubbed fiercely at his prick, mouth falling agape at the sensations. The man's hand was pulling a little roughly, John forcing his palm off for a moment. Holding his wrist, John slathered his tongue across Sherlock's palm to slick it and let it return once again to his shaft. He fed another moan-laden kiss into the detective's mouth when the added saliva brought about a smoother, more arousing stroke.
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His eyes flashed deviously when he saw how hard John was trying not to cry out, feeling his own erection already start to strain against his trousers. That wasn't important to him right now, though. All he could think about was John and the need to make him feel amazing. He kissed back enthusiastically, decidedly not caring if the cabbie saw at this point. He gave John a curious look when he pulled his hand off, desperate with yearning to get back to it. His fingers twitched and he bit his lip at the half-ticklish half-arousing action of John licking his hand. He moved his hand back as soon as he could, realizing then just how much easier it was with that bit of lubrication. He kissed him hard, letting his thumb brush over the tip of his erection with each stroke. John was beautiful like this, he decided, never wanting the moans and longing kisses to end.
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"Sher--nngh," the doctor choked on his cry, finding that wave of pleasure to be almost unstoppable. He had to break into that cry of his lover's name with a strangled grunt. A hand was thrown out to the side to slap the seat back, suddenly feeling like he was falling backwards. "Ohmigod, Sherlock ... " That was a 'don't stop' sort of sound, one that had the cabbie clearing his throat. Not that either of them heard it, or cared.
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He drank in the way he said his name, utterly addicted to the way it sounded on John's lips. He wrapped his free arm around John when he braced himself against the seat, a wordless assurance that he had him. Any thoughts of making John wait until they got inside to come were gone in an instant, kissing hungrily at his neck as he pulled him off at a frenetic pace. He murmured John's name against his neck, kissing and biting and licking him feverishly. "Come for me." he purred against his ear, working his hand faster as he nipped at his ear.
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John tilted his head to the side as Sherlock nipped kisses over his neck, turning just enough that his breath tickled just right. Sherlock's voice thrummed through every cell of his body and John was given permission. "Sherlock!" came his cry, trying and failing miserably to keep it low and private. Thick ropes splashed over the back of the detective's hand, making a disastrous mess all over the front of his jeans.
John slumped his head -- or rather hid his face in Sherlock's scarf, taking deep, hard breaths as his orgasm was violently pulled from him. He was writhing in his seat like an antsy primary school boy, an unmistakable look of glorious release painted clear as crystal across his features. When he could get his mind back into his head, all he could do was sit and stare at him with a smile and panting breaths to ruffle the curls near his lover's eyes.
Incorrigible, brilliant, wonderfully dapper mother fucker John thought with a satisfied grin. His lids drifted half shut in his daze, his body calming down and settling in for the rest of the ride. He never wanted to take his eyes off of him. He sucked his bottom lip between his teeth as he smiled.
"You ... are going to be the wonderfully satiated death of me, Sherlock Holmes ... " He affectionately pet his cheek, finding his limbs felt terribly like rubber at the moment. He was afraid Sherlock was going to have to give him a piggy-back ride up the stairs to their flat after an orgasm like that.
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He just held him like that for a long moment, finally pulling back just enough to turn his head and lap the evidence off his hand. Well, most of the evidence, anyway. He couldn't help but smile himself when John smiled, as per usual. He chuckled softly at his words, nuzzling his hand for a moment before leaning in to kiss him chastely. He sighed contentedly, pulling John further into his arms to practically wrap him up in his coat as the ride continued. He took a moment to tuck John back into his jeans, sucking his fingers clean after he'd brushed against the mess still left on his pants. "You need to make suggestions like this more often." he said, leaning against John and closing his eyes as he held onto him like a child hugging a teddy bear.
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Lazy, cum tainted kisses were returned and John settled in to become Sherlock's personal warm teddy. He offered up a pleasurable hum to his comment that they should do this more often, arms coming around his middle, sliding within the warmth of that long coat to hug the slender man to him.
"Love you ... " he whispered against Sherlock's jaw, kissing his way to his lips again. Shortly after, he settled in for the rest of the ride.
Before he could fully fall asleep, they taxi came to a halt in front of their door and Sherlock was rousing the sleepy doctor into getting out of the cab. John stood very much like a zombie, his day having been very long and extremely energy zapping. Once Sherlock paid the man and the taxi drove away, the second he felt Sherlock against his side, he leaned heavily on him and awaited him to open the door.
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He nuzzled his hair when he felt John's arms come around him, snuggling as close to him as he could. He would never get tired of the feeling of butterflies in his stomach he got every time he heard John say he loved him. "I love you-" he said, missing adding the 'too' when he got too impatient and had to kiss John again. They both went quiet after that, Sherlock just holding on to him and stroking his hair as he felt John start to doze off in his arms.
When the cab stopped, he nudged John gently and whispered into his ear. "We're home, love." he said, paying their driver and practically dragging John out the door. He smiled affectionately when John leaned on him, kissing his temple before slipping an arm around his back to steady him as he unlocked the door. He ended up supporting quite a bit of John's weight as he pulled him upstairs. He didn't mind, really, though he did feel a bit fatigued when they finally reached the flat. He bit back the uneasy feeling that it was because the withdrawal was catching up with him, focusing instead on getting John upstairs to their bed.
After depositing John onto the bed, he worked at shedding his clothes down to his shorts before climbing over John to start tugging his clothing off his as well. When they were both down to their knickers, he settled on top of him with his head pillowed on his chest, shivering a bit as his skin turned clammy. "Tell me it's all fine." he said shakily, needing to hear it now more than ever.
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It was coming. Knowing the pain that was to come wasn't nearly as bad as the anticipation leading up to it. His beautiful boyfriend was going to be reduced to a shivering, sweaty mess. He's going to feel like death is warming over him yet again shortly, and it will feel like nothing can be done. All John can do is be here to hold him and give him mediocre medications for the side effects. There was nothing worse feeling to a doctor than knowing there's little that can be done to stop the inevitable withdrawl other than to be there with him the whole time.
John's lids were barely able to keep open, but he wanted to prove to Sherlock he was still there. He gave the man a good squeeze with the last of his muscle strength and whispered into his curls, "It's all fine. All of it. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere." The detective's skin was starting to warm up, John inching his fingers down to the waistband of his knickers.
Fingers gently brushed across the man's lower back, feeling the muscles already twitching involuntarily. "I love you, Sherlock." He spoke with his eyes closed, lips resting in those curls and feeling nothing but the need to repeat himself over and over again. Sleep deprivation did that, John wishing that he didn't get carried away in that sleep lab. It was becoming impossible for him to stay awake now.
Unless ... oh Gods, John. The idea of Sherlock shagging him awake and into a second wind suddenly brought on all sorts of adrenaline pumping thoughts, despite his body giving up a massive protest. He yawned and stretched beneath Sherlock, finding his body responding without his mind telling it to. No, Gods no, look at him. He's in no fit shape, John.
The doctor closed his eyes and let out a slow exhale. Just shut it and try to get some sleep. Yes, that's it John. Sleep.
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He took a deep, shaky breath as John's hands moved over his skin, trying to keep relaxed and not start to panic as the symptoms set in. He pressed a kiss to John's neck when he said he loved him. "I -nn- love you too." he said softly, put ill at ease by the broken sound of his own voice to his ears. He shuddered again and curled tighter against John, his fingers gripping hard at his arms in an unconscious reaction to the pain. He started kissing John's neck to distract himself, needing to take breaks every few moments to stop and pant against his skin. He tried to stop and keep still when John seemed to be close to sleep, but he couldn't help shivering and clinging desperately to him.
"Do...do you want me to move so you can sleep?" he asked quietly, not wanting to relocate, but also not wanting to keep John awake by shaking and whimpering against him.
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To feel the weight of him against him, John was content even if he didn't get any sleep for the next three days. Sherlock needed him, and his sleep wasn't important. He tried to keep his hands moving up and down Sherlock's back, soothing and comforting as best he could as consciousness seemed to slip.
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He lost himself for a few moments in feeling John stroke his back, enjoying it while it lasted before John fell asleep. He stayed in his spot until he was sure John was really asleep. He slipped out of his arms then, needing a shower more than anything right now. He slipped out of his shorts and turned on the water, making it a bit colder than usual. He turned on the shower and sat down in the tub, draping his arms over the sides as he just let the water wash over him. He stayed like that for a bit before finally dragging himself out and drying off. He grabbed his dressing gown and wrapped it about himself, feeling slightly better since all the sweat was rinsed off his body. He moved to the kitchen, setting the kettle to boil and preparing two mugs for tea.
He went back upstairs when the tea was ready, placing the two cups on the nightstand before slipping out of his dressing gown to climb back in bed. John's arm was stretched in that perfect way so that Sherlock could snuggle right under his arm without disturbing his sleep. He heaved a sigh, still feeling a little ill but much better now that he was clean and back in John's arms.
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The bed dipped again and a warm body once more joined him, John smelling the renewed scent of his soap and shampoo. His sleepy mind said he'd just showered and John shifted to hug him close when he returned to his side. He gave a soft little sniff and peaked an eye open to look through Sherlock's wet curls and see the matching mugs of tea on the nightstand.
John grinned and let out a huff of breath against Sherlock's brow. 'He made me tea. Unbelievable,' John thought. He squeezed him tighter and let out a soft sleepy moan as he shifted to lazily kiss the top of Sherlock's head. He muttered something close to a 'thank you' and didn't let up on his teddy bear like hug.
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