Disclaimer: I don't fly, I don't have orange hair (unfortunately), and I don't own, nor do I profit from, BBC's Sherlock...

A/N: so... I guess there's nothing else to say than "enjoy." :-)

Epilogue Part II
Sherlock's PoV

"Sherlock, ouch! If I'm not able to see anything, you should be a little more careful!" John exclaimed.

"Stop whining, you just bumped your foot. Besides, we're here." Sherlock put the key card into the door and opened it. The suite was acceptable, and he had no doubt that John would love it. Well, at least until he asked about who paid for it.

"Stop right there," Sherlock said as soon as John had entered the suite. He turned around and closed the door behind them before he walked up and stood close behind John. He gave the shorter man's upper arms a gentle squeeze and breathed in the smell of his hair. He sighed, this part of the day was what he had been looking forward to, what had made him capable of acting at least a bit nice throughout the dinner. If he hadn't, there would have been a good chance that John would have been so annoyed with him that he wouldn't have been any fun now.

"Sherlock when are you going to take this blindfold off me?" John sounded exited and just a bit impatient. Really, it was hard to blame him, Sherlock thought, if it had been he ho had been blindfolded and led somewhere, he would inevitably have found some way to get a sneak peak at his surroundings. But he had no doubt John was far better behaved than himself.

"Soon, but it's not the first thing I'm going to take off," Sherlock whispered into John's ear. The reward was immediate; he felt a shiver run through John's body.

He placed a soft kiss on John's neck as his fingers found the buttons in front of the shorter man's vest and undid them. He felt his own pulse rise as he grabbed the hem of the vest and jacket of the man in front of him and slowly removed the items. He heard how John's breath got ragged and when he reached for the buttons of his shirt, he could feel the increased heartbeat and the heat of John's slowly exposing torso.

"I'm going to make you scream," he whispered into John's other ear and let his tongue follow the line of the earlobe before he sucked it into his mouth. John let out a moan that Sherlock felt travel through his own stomach and settle in his groin.

Whit little difficulty he undid the buttons that kept John's shirt secured around the wrists. Slowly he let his fingers travel upwards, feeling the muscles in John's arms tensing with expectation under his touch. He closed his fingers around the hem of the shirt and dragged it off the other man, letting his fingers brush against the naked skin of his arms. He could hear how John struggled to keep his breath, and himself, under control and it was impossible for Sherlock to suppress the smile that forced its way onto his lips.

John stood perfectly still in the suite's vaguely lit sitting room. Sherlock took a step back to watch the trimmed back that now belonged to him. Reaching out a finger, he let it travel down John's spine until it reached the belt of his trousers and followed the leather around the waist to the belt buckle. He stepped closer again and pressed himself against John's body once more. He could feel the ragged breath, the heat flowing from the body in front of him and all the way into his own.

Slowly he undid the belt, trying to conceal how eager he was, but his fingers couldn't stop brushing against John's stomach now and then, each time eliciting a soft moan from the man he was currently wrapped around.

Painfully slowly (to himself as well) he unzipped the trousers and let them drop to the floor. He kneeled down, placing soft kisses along John's spine, and lifted first one foot, then the other, taking off John's socks along with the trousers.

"Sherlock," John whispered softly, "what are you doing?"

Sherlock smiled, trust John to ask a question to which the answer was obvious. He didn't answer, in stead he stood up and moved so he was facing John, his blindfolded, nearly naked man. He put a hand on John's hip and drew him closer, pressing their bodies together. John moved willingly and rested both hands on Sherlock's waist.

When his mouth met John's, the other man gasped a little in surprise before he parted his lips to invite Sherlock in. This was an invite it was hard to refuse, but Sherlock did his best to hold back. In stead he pressed a soft kiss against John's lips, only just letting his tongue brush against his lower lip. John let out a moan, clearly getting impatient. Sherlock could feel his own erection pressing against the fabric of his trousers, next to John's that was pressing against his thigh.

Sherlock moved to stand behind John once again to be able to guide him into the bedroom of the suite. He pushed the shorter man onto the bed and slowly dragged of his pants as well. Sherlock allowed himself to watch John, naked John, for a minute. Blindfolded, small crinkles around the lips (and, Sherlock knew, around the eyes as well) telling a tale about happiness but also harsher times. John pushed himself up to rest on his elbows, giving away the slightly defined muscles hidden underneath the skin. Skin. Sherlock moved his eyes to John's left shoulder, the scar still vaguely visible in the dim light, the angle telling him that John had been on his knees when he had been shot. Sherlock took it all in, somehow, probably due to sentiment, it felt new. He had to remind himself that it was only last night he had last seen all of this.

"Sherlock, I'm getting cold – and you are the last person I would trust to blindfold me," John whispered, breaking the silence.

A smug smile spread over Sherlock's face, "I would say your actions says otherwise."

Sherlock crawled onto the bed, onto John. When he straddled the shorter man, John's shoulders gave in and he fell back on the bed. Sherlock placed a hand on both sides of John's head and leaned in, keeping his lips only inches from John's. He could feel his breath speed up, it was once again getting more ragged. Sherlock let his lips brush against John's and dwelled in the small sounds that elicited from him, a soft moan sent shivers down Sherlock's spine and he smiled against John's mouth.

He let his tongue out to slide across the seam of John's lips, asking to enter. John responded immediately, parting his lips and letting his own tongue brush against Sherlock's, his hands finding their way to Sherlock's hips. For a short second Sherlock lost control and let out a groan as John deepened the kiss considerably. This interrupted his plans, and before he could blink John was on top of him, pinning him down onto the soft mattress

Sherlock tried to protest, but apparently his body disagreed with the protest, because no words came out, only a low-pitched groan as John rocked their erections together.

In his blindness, John found his jaw and placed a trail of small, wet kisses along it. Sherlock let a moan escape his lips as he felt John's hot breath on his neck.

"It doesn't seem fair, now does it?" the shorter man breathed against his skin.

"What?" Sherlock sighed; he couldn't see what John was on about, it was him who had forced himself on top.

"You still being fully dressed." Sherlock could hear the smile in John's voice and felt the iron grip around his wrists loosen before the hands holding him disappeared and instead found the buttons of his waistcoat and shirt.

Sherlock let his now free hands travel onto John's bare back, feeling the soft skin under his fingers. John's mouth followed his hands and kissed a trail on the slowly exposing skin of Sherlock's chest.

"You seem to have missed the idea of a blindfold," Sherlock sighed, but didn't really protest any further as John's fingers began to undo his trousers.

"I am keeping it on, you should be content with that," John said against the skin on Sherlock's stomach. He let his tongue slip inside the waistband of Sherlock's pants, causing Sherlock to involuntarily buck his hips; he could feel his erection begging to be touched. John chuckled, "Eager now, are you?"

His fingers gripped a hold of Sherlock's pants and trousers and pulled them down, freeing the throbbing erection they had been hiding. John took off Sherlock's shoes and socks before finally ridding Sherlock's lower body of all fabric. It was amazing just how dexterous John was even when blindfolded. Sherlock wondered if he had done a good enough job putting the blindfold on, he must have, he didn't make that kind of slo-

"Stop," John pulled him out of his strain of thoughts and licked a trail along Sherlock's erection.

"What?"

"Stop thinking, it's annoying." Sherlock could hear the smile in John's voice. It would seem he had been wanting to say that for ages.

"It's not like I- oh God..." Sherlock exclaimed just as John's mouth closed around his erection and it seemed impossible to keep on talking. John took in his length and Sherlock could feel his tongue twirl around his head and let out a throaty moan. The soft lips and the wet, hot tongue felt so good. He felt more than heard John groan against his erection.

Sherlock buried his fingers in John's short, soft hair and felt how his head bobbed up and down. This was good, too god in fact. John let his tongue follow the cleft of Sherlock's head.

"Oh God yes, John... Oh... Yes... No, no!" Sherlock exclaimed, "If you don't stop I'm... Ah... I'm going to… Oh God, I'm so close..." John stopped moving and let go of Sherlock's member. Sherlock couldn't help but to whimper at the loss of the hot mouth. He looked at John who was now wearing a smirk on his slightly swollen lips.

Sherlock lifted himself enough to grab John's neck and drag him down into a kiss. He could taste a little of himself as his tongue penetrated John's mouth and slit across his soft tongue. John's hands grabbed his the blazer, waistcoat and open shirt, trying to drag them off of him all at once with some difficulty, thereby creating the perfect opportunity.

Sherlock put his full weight into tumbling John over so he once again was on top and in control of the situation. John didn't protest, instead he let out a sigh when Sherlock grinded his erection against his own.

"Sherlock," John moaned, "Please... Please fuck me." Sherlock smiled to himself at how flustered John looked by now, how he wriggled and moaned beneath him. He leant forward and licked the shell of John's ear before sucking the earlobe hungrily. John moaned softly and placed his hands on Sherlock's arse, forcing him forward and caused Sherlock to groan at the friction.

"Your wish is my command," Sherlock whispered in his ear and felt John shutter at the words. He lifted himself so he was able to reach the bedside table and find the bottle of lube tucked away in the drawer. Off course he had prepared for this, and John was going to thank him now – even though he hadn't been too pleased when Sherlock had shown up late for the ceremony. But perhaps that had just as much to do with the fact that Donovan had already begun telling John that he wasn't coming. Why John had insisted on being polite and inviting her and a bunch of other people was beyond him. In fact if it had been up to him, no one should have been invited. Well, perhaps Lestrade, but that was it.

Once again he covered John's body with his own and received a hungry kiss in reward. John's hands dug themselves into his hair and seemed to hold on as if Sherlock was suddenly going to evaporate.

He pulled himself away accompanied by small protesting sounds from John. He clicked the bottle open and heard a small gasp of expectation coming from the man beneath him. After squeezing some gel onto the fingers of one hand he leaning back down and supported his weight on the other arm. He placed a soft kiss on John's lips as his fingers found his entrance and began circling it. John moaned against his mouth and impatiently began to move against his fingers, begging them to enter him.

Sherlock slowly let a finger slide inside of him and felt how John's body easily adjusted itself to his presence. The man underneath him let out a throaty groan and began rocking against his finger, grabbing Sherlock's locks with both hands. Sherlock bucked his hips against him before he lifted himself up to gaze down at a flustered and moaning John on the bed before him.

Sherlock slowly inserted another finger and watched as John grabbed hold of the bedcover for dear life. A loud, throaty groan escaped his lips when Sherlock began to slowly scissor him open. Sherlock looked down at John's leaking erection and felt his own hard member throb at the sight. He couldn't help it; he had to bend down and let his tongue slide up the length and slowly encircled the head.

"Oh fuck... Sherlock... Ah..." John exclaimed at the touch, almost sounding like he didn't know how to be in his own skin, "Fuck me, please just... Fuck me!"

Sherlock looked up at John's face, he was now looking like a man on the brink of sanity.

He extracted his fingers and leaned over to find a pillow and placed it underneath John. He put on an extra layer of lube before he lined himself up at John's entrance and pushed into him.

Sherlock let out a moan at the tight heat that now surrounded him. He leaned over to meet John's lips and felt a groan from the man underneath him as he began moving inside of him. John bit down hard on Sherlock's lower lip when he found his prostate and began hitting it rhythmically, causing Sherlock to jerk a little in surprise.

He raised himself just enough so he could look down at John's face, his swollen, parted lips told of a high state of agitation, the warm breath that hit Sherlock's face was becoming more ragged by the second.

"There's no escaping me now," Sherlock whispered and pushed himself hard into the man beneath him.

He could see John making several attempts at answering before he finally breathed out almost inaudibly, "Why would I want to."

Sherlock bent down once again and placed a soft, almost chaste kiss on John's lips and made a small trail of kisses along his jaw before he licked his earlobe and whispered in a husky voice, "I love you John."

In reply John turned his head and captured Sherlock's lips before whispering back, "And I love you, you madman."

Sherlock reached down between them and closed his fingers around John's erection. John let out a throaty groan at the touch and clung to Sherlock like he was the only thing left for him to hold on to as Sherlock began stroking him in timing with his thrusts. He could feel his own body beginning to quiver, not just because of his own nerves being stimulated, but because of the effect he had on the man lying beneath him, surrounding him.

He could feel John beginning to clench around him; he was close. Sherlock gazed down at John; he was so close to the edge now. He let his lips ghost over his parted lips and felt John let out a ragged sigh, "I'm... Oh shit, Sherl..." John's words disappeared into unintelligible sounds.

"Come for me John," Sherlock whispered in a husky voice and felt how John let go, his muscles spasm.

John let out a loud groan and Sherlock felt how he came in his hand.

He pressed his lips against John's and pushed himself harder into him as he felt his own orgasm roll over him. The few seconds of silent bliss hit him and he came with a moan inside of John.

They lay there panting for a while before Sherlock placed a soft kiss on John's neck, pulled himself out and rolled onto his back next to John.

He could hear John's breathing return to normal and watched the outlines of his body as it was slowly descending from the pitch of orgasm.

John took off the blindfold and Sherlock could feel his eyes upon him.

"Well, I may need to go to the bathroom," he said and turned over to find a light-switch. Sherlock nuzzled down into the bedcovers and closed his eyes; this was something he never got tired of, this post-coital bliss he was now feeling.

"Sherlock?" John's voice cut through his calm thoughts.

"Mmm?" he managed to reply idly.

"Sherlock, where exactly are we? This..." John trailed off.

"The royal suite at The Lanesborough Hotel – Mycroft's treat," he added hurriedly before John could protest at the obviously expensive suite.

"Does he know it's his treat?" John asked with obvious doubt in his voice.

"He probably does by now," Sherlock replied and tried to put as much indifference in his voice as possible. To Sherlock's satisfaction John seemed to drop the subject and let out a sigh before leaving the bed.

Sherlock wondered if this was going to change anything between them. Being in an official civil partnership was, after all, something different, wasn't it? Truth be told he didn't feel any different, except from the fact he was laying in a very comfortable, and probably equally expensive, bed in a far too expensive hotel. Was he supposed to feel any different? And if so, how? This was one if the reasons he didn't like to engage in the activities of normal people - it was simply to... Messy, no order reigned in this world of idiotic normality.

"So, tell me, how does it feel to be my husband?" John's cheerful voice sounded from the doorway.

"What?" Sherlock looked at John as he stood there naked and wearing a satisfied smile.

"I said-" John began.

"I heard what you said," Sherlock interrupted him, "But I find the question to be how you feel about being mine."

John shot him a mischievous smile, "hHmm... I have to get back to you on that. So tell me, is Mycroft really paying?"

"Yes," Sherlock sighed, this was one of those silly little repetition-games John played from time to time.

"In that case I think we should call room service - they have a nicely expensive champagne-menu." He smiled as he lay back down on the bed. Sherlock lifted an eyebrow and scanned John over, it would seem he was being serious, "I don't see why he would mind."

~~ PP ~~

A/N: And that would be the end.

Thanks to all of you guys who has favourited, followed and commented this little piece :-)

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