An Affair to Remember-Sherlock Fanfic

Sherlock's Kitten

Sherlock laid a possessive hand on John's shoulder. "Why would anyone want to harm John?" He asked aloud.

Hugh Laurie looked into John's wide eyes and then up into Sherlock's frightened ones. "I honestly don't know, but one of you has made a powerful enemy. Look all I know is that I can't bear this pressure any longer. I'm going to turn myself into the authorities."

The noises of the café seemed to implode on Sherlock's already frayed senses as he tried to focus on the problem at hand. The clinking of glasses, the low chatter of the anonymous voices that filled the room. "Think, think," Sherlock whispered aloud as he attempted to organize his chaotic thoughts. Hugh opened his mouth to say something and was silenced by a warning glare from Sherlock. "Stop, just don't say anything. I need to think."

Hugh and John remained silent as Sherlock went to his mind palace. John studied the face of the man he loved. The tight skin that was drawn over Sherlock's cheekbones paled, making him look old and frightened. John reached up and took Sherlock's cold, clammy hand in his own. Then he began to stroke the inside of Sherlock's wrist, his fingers trailing over the bluish green veins that lie just below the surface of his skin. Sherlock looked down at John and his pulse raced as he stared into John's beautiful, blue eyes. For a moment or two Sherlock struggled to control the lust and the desire that heated his cold skin. John, it was always John that turned his legs to jelly, made his heart beat fast and made the place between his thighs ache. Not caring if they were in public or not Sherlock discreetly moved a long finger down the back of John's trousers, past the waistband, lower, lower, lower still, until he found the promised land. Without a thought about what would happen next, Sherlock pushed his finger in as far as it would go.

John sucked in a mouthful of air and when he spoke his voice squeaked. "Sherlock....Sherlock, what are we going to...ddoo?" The last word came out in a grunt as John pushed back on Sherlock's hand.

Sherlock continued to move his fingers, hiding the movement from Hugh as he spoke. "Don't confess yet. Go along with Laura as if you are going to kill John. That will give us some time to figure out who is really behind all of this."

Hugh frowned and then said, "That sounds dangerous."

Sherlock nodded. "I don't want John in danger either, but if you don't go along with your attempt on John's life then she will just send someone else to complete the task."

Hugh nodded. "My next set is coming up."

"We'll be in touch," Sherlock said as he removed his hand up to push the chair. He moved his hand in front of John's nostrils, just long enough for his own musky scent to flood John's olfactory senses. Then without another word he turned the chair around and wheeled John into the men's restroom. Once they were in a stall, Sherlock knelt down on the floor and unbuckled John's trousers.

"Sherlock, this floor is filthy," John protested as Sherlock's knees hit the ground.

"Hush," Sherlock ordered, his eyes fixated on the burgeoning prize between John's legs. John closed his eyes as Sherlock pushed his knees open and then back. In the background John could hear Hugh singing, "Can't Help Falling in Love," in front of him the sounds of Sherlock's slurping dominated the area in the small stall. Sherlock stopped for a moment, looked up at John, his lips were red and swollen, the area around his mouth glistened with moisture. "John, hold still, you know it's all about the work for me and God knows I love my work."

John entwined his fingers in Sherlock's black curly hair as Sherlock whispered all the things that John loved to hear. "You are my true love, John Hamish Watson-Holmes. I want to devour you with my tongue and mouth." After a few panting breaths, Sherlock stopped and then looked up at John once more as he whispered, "I will protect you."

For a moment John wondered how Sherlock could keep such a promise and then everything swirled into a vortex of sight and sound. Hugh's voice blended into Sherlock's slurping, until John could no longer tell them apart. Both were music to John's ears. The tension in John's body built and then released in a warm liquid torrent, that Sherlock swallowed down in greedy gulps. John rested his legs over the arm rests of his chair as Sherlock focused on licking him clean. "He's like a mother cat," John thought as his body relaxed under Sherlock's ministrations. "Meow," John mewed.

Sherlock grinned up at John and John's chest actually hurt as he let himself drift away in the depths of Sherlock's perfect blue-green eyes. "He is everything to me and he loves me. Then why am I so afraid of losing him?" John thought in anguish.