Hello everyone! Sorry for posting so late. I was outside socialising! With family, but it counts as they're family I don't get to see very often.

I'm posting this first because I actually still have to edit the next chapter of FT&PD (procrastinator by nature).

So John wakes up the morning after Sherlock's birthday with a bad hangover. When he remembers the night's events he has a decision to make.

Warnings for this chapter: blow jobs, hand jobs, snogging, adorableness

John woke with an awful hangover. He pressed his face into the sofa cushion and groaned. Why had he agreed to that damn drinking game? Because he was an idiot and he wanted to see Sherlock thoroughly pissed. Only he'd gotten there first. And hadn't Sherlock told him something? Something important? Oh. Right. That.

He groaned again and forced himself to sit up. His head was swimming and felt like something was trying to break out of it. Maybe he'd give birth to the next Athena. When his head cleared a bit, he blinked open his eyes to take in his surroundings. Sherlock was gone, of course, and the fire was crackling anew. John realised he was also wrapped in more blankets. So Sherlock had put more wood in the fireplace and had also given him more blankets? Wow. He really did love him. Sherlock Holmes loved him. It was such a relief to know Sherlock felt the same. John had been worried Sherlock would dismiss his affections or ignore them completely. But now that John knew his flatmate felt the same way he wasn't scared of being rejected anymore. He looked around the room again, staring at the fire for a moment before looking down at the floor as he prepared to stand. What he saw there melted his heart.

Sherlock had made him tea. Not just any tea; his tea, exactly how he liked it. Was that information really so important to Sherlock that he hadn't deleted it?

He really does love me, John thought to himself. He bent down and grabbed the mug, inhaling the steam. It was still warm, so Sherlock hadn't been gone long. Was he even still in the flat? John rested back against the sofa and sipped his tea as it cooled. Once it wasn't so hot it would burn his tongue or throat, he drank the rest quickly, the caffeine helping his hangover. He got up to put the mug in the sink and froze. Sherlock was standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame, his arms crossed over his chest.

'Sleep well?' he asked.

'Like the dead,' John answered. 'You?'

'Didn't sleep.'

'Ah.'

'Well, couldn't sleep.'

'Because you were worried about what I'd say about last night?'

'You remember?'

'I told you, I've never been a blackout drunk. I don't forget. I just get killer hangovers.'

'Oh. Well... what do you think?'

'About you loving me?' Sherlock nodded, his arms tightening around his chest, protecting his heart. 'I've thought it over.'

'OK. And?'

John walked over to Sherlock and gently pushed his hands away from his sides. He held them securely and squeezed them.

'I'm relieved,' he said softly. 'Because now I know you share my feelings.'

Sherlock gasped softly and stared down at John.

'Yes,' John said to Sherlock's surprised face. 'I love you, too.'

Sherlock smiled brightly and sighed in relief. He pressed his forehead to John's and breathed him in. John closed his eyes and reveled in the feeling of having Sherlock so close.

'I love you,' Sherlock whispered, his breath tickling John's eyelids.

'I love you too,' John whispered back.

'Can I kiss you?' Sherlock asked.

'Yes,' John answered quickly. 'Please.'

Sherlock tilted John's chin up and gazed into his eyes as he leant in. John wrapped an arm around Sherlock's waist, pulling him closer and subsequently sealing their lips together. They both gasped and pressed closer together, Sherlock's hand caressing John's face. His other arm slipped down John's back and rested just above his jeans. John's free hand tangled in Sherlock's curls and tugged, a wanton moan coming from Sherlock's throat.

'Like having your hair pulled?' John asked between kisses.

'Dunno,' Sherlock moaned. 'Never had it done before. Do it again. Please.'

John grabbed another chunk of Sherlock's hair and pulled. Sherlock gasped and moaned, his body shuddering. John hummed and began sucking on Sherlock's neck as he continued pulling his hair. Sherlock's knees were beginning to tremble and he was slowly losing his balance. John wrapped an arm around his waist and propped him up as best he could.

'Can you walk?' Josh whispered.

'Barely,' was Sherlock's choked reply.

'Can you make it to the sofa?'

'Probably.'

'Then start walking.' John swatted Sherlock on the bum, the younger man squeaking slightly. He stumbled into the sitting room and plopped down on the sofa, watching John with wide eyes as he sauntered into the room. He soft groan escaped before he could stop it. John dominated the room, every bit the Army Captain. John stood just to the side of the sofa, looking down at Sherlock as the firelight flickered over his features. He straddled Sherlock and began kissing him again, Sherlock moaning softly. John reached up and grabbed a chunk of Sherlock's hair, tugging it sharply. Sherlock gasped and his hips jumped. That was when John felt it.

'Oh,' he breathed out. 'Hel-lo.' His free hand slipped down and palmed the bulge in Sherlock's trousers. Sherlock's hips jumped and he moaned pitifully.

'John,' he gasped, his eyes pitch black with arousal. John pulled on his hair and felt Sherlock's cock twitch.

'You really like having your hair pulled,' he said huskily. 'Do you want me to take care of that for you?'

'Please,' Sherlock whined. 'Please, John.'

John grinned and released Sherlock's hair. He began stripping Sherlock of his clothes, starting with the too tight shirt. Sherlock's chest was pale and had a light dusting of hair. He hummed in appreciation and began sliding the sleeves down Sherlock's toned arms. He'd gotten a good look at Sherlock's back when they were in Buckingham Palace when Mycroft had stepped on the sheet (the only thing he actually thanked Mycroft for doing really), but he hadn't had time to appreciate it until now. Sherlock really was well-built, especially for a man who barely ate and whose only exercise was chasing down criminals through the streets of London.

Sherlock sat up a bit so John could take the shirt off completely. It was dropped to the floor and John went to work on Sherlock's trousers. The expensive yet thin material was straining against the hardness of Sherlock's erection. A wet patch had already formed as well. John chuckled and popped the button open, sliding down the zip tantalising slow. Sherlock whined but groaned in relief when the pressure on his cock eased. John pulled the trousers and Sherlock's boxers down, tossing them on the floor as well. He then sat back and took in Sherlock's nude form, the firelight flickering over his skin.

He really was an incredibly handsome man. John might even go so far as to call him beautiful. His body was toned from all the running, just a hint of muscles in his arms and legs. His torso was beautifully sculpted, though his stomach was a bit too concave for John's liking. Sherlock's chest rose and fell rapidly as he watched John rake his eyes over his body. John finally made it to Sherlock's prick and he grinned wolfishly. Sherlock was completely proportional, long and lean with a slight curve. John grinned up at Sherlock, who was blushing from his cheeks to his chest.

'Gorgeous,' John whispered. He placed his hands on Sherlock's chest and gently raked his nails down to his ribs. 'Fucking gorgeous.'

'Really?' Sherlock whispered, hissing slightly as John scratched him.

'Yes. Really.' He bent down to kiss Sherlock again and hummed. 'Do you want my mouth or my hand?'

'Um... I don't know,' Sherlock said, swallowing thickly. 'Whatever you want is fine with me.'

John's face fell slightly. 'Have you never done this before?'

'Not with another person,' Sherlock said, turning away from John.

'Are you a virgin? Which is fine, by the way.'

'Yes,' Sherlock whispered.

'Hey.' John touched Sherlock's chin softly. 'It's fine. We don't have to do this if you aren't comfortable.'

'No. I... I want you to do it. Please.'

'You sure?'

'Yes. Please. I... I want you to... to suck me off.'

'OK.' John slid down onto the floor, positioned himself comfortably, and gently pried Sherlock's knees apart. Sherlock flushed a deep red and looked away. John wasn't perturbed. It was fine. Sherlock was nervous. They wouldn't go any further than a blow job. And John would probably end up wanking over Sherlock as well. He grasped Sherlock's thighs and pushed them back slightly. He bent down and poked out his tongue, licking the base of Sherlock's cock. Sherlock whined and shuddered. John licked up to the head and placed a kiss on the top.

'No teasing,' Sherlock whined. 'Please.'

'OK.' John sucked the head of Sherlock's cock into his mouth, tasting salty pre-cum on his tongue. Sherlock moaned and his head thrashed on the cushions. John sucked more of Sherlock's cock into his mouth and moaned softly. Sherlock whined and groaned, a hand running through John's hair. John began bobbing his head and Sherlock's hand gripped his hair tight.

'John!' he gasped. 'Oh John!'

John growled and sucked Sherlock harder. When he felt Sherlock's knees trembling he pulled off and began wanking Sherlock to completion. A whine died in Sherlock's throat at the loss of John's mouth. He groaned when he felt John's hand on him, his head falling back as he felt his impending orgasm.

'Jawwn!' he cried when he began cumming, his cum spurting onto his stomach and John's hand. John stroked him through it, Sherlock trembling as he collapsed boneless against the sofa. John hummed and stood to go into the kitchen, grabbing a towel to clean up his hand and Sherlock's stomach. Sherlock still had his eyes closed when he returned.

'Feel good?' he asked. Sherlock hummed and nodded. 'Want to watch me now?' Sherlock blinked and looked at John. He was stripping out of his own clothes until he stood naked in front of him. Sherlock leaned forward and grabbed John's hips, pulling him onto his lap. John sat with his knees pressed against Sherlock's hips, his arms naturally draping around Sherlock's shoulders. Sherlock pulled him into another kiss, tasting himself on his tongue.

'That was wonderful,' he said when they pulled away. 'Both the orgasm and the kiss.'

'Good. I'm glad you enjoyed it.'

'I'd very much like to return the favour now.'

'Of course. Go right ahead.'

Sherlock bent to kiss John again, only he went to kiss his scar. John sucked in a breath and stiffened slightly. No one had ever kissed him there. It was... odd. But almost in a good way. He gasped when he felt Sherlock's hand wrap around his cock. Sherlock left kisses as he moved up John's shoulder to his neck, sucking a bright red mark on his skin.

John moaned and threw his head back, exposing more of his neck to Sherlock. He thrust into Sherlock's hand steadily, not wanting to cum too fast. Sherlock peppered John's face, neck, and shoulders with kisses. He finally bent his head and dared to lap at a nipple. John gasped and moaned loudly. Sherlock grinned and did it again.

'Fuck!' John cried. 'Fucking hell, Sherlock. Oh god.' Sherlock chuckled against John's chest, causing him to moan and shudder. John's hips thrust faster into Sherlock's fist and Sherlock began pumping him faster as well.

'Oh!' John cried. 'Oh god! Sherlock! I'm cumming!'

Sherlock pulled back when he felt the first spurt against his stomach. He watched John's face as he came, his hand never stopping as he milked his John dry. John slumped against Sherlock when his orgasm ended, his breathing laboured.

'Jesus Christ,' he groaned. 'Holy shit. Sherlock. Mmm. Stop. Sensitive now.'

'Oh. Sorry.' Sherlock let go of John's softening prick and grabbed the flannel to clean them up. John hummed and pressed his forehead to Sherlock's.

'I love you,' he whispered.

'I love you too,' Sherlock replied.

'Want to take a shower and then get some sleep?'

'Sure. I'm starting to feel pretty tired now.'

'No sleep and a powerful orgasm can do that,' John chuckled. Sherlock grinned and kissed him.

'Shower. Then a long nap.'

'Right. Come on.' John stood and held a hand out for Sherlock. The younger man took it and stood, following behind John like a loyal puppy as he was lead to the bathroom. They washed each other in the shower until they smelled of John's Old Spice body wash and Sherlock's shampoo. John pulled on one of Sherlock's sleep shirts and a pair of boxers. Sherlock did the same and they crawled into bed. Sherlock cuddled against John's chest and hummed in content.

'I love you,' he whispered.

'I love you too,' John replied. 'Go to sleep. We both need some rest.'

Sherlock was already snoring softly. John chuckled and buried his nose in Sherlock's damp curls.

'I love you,' he whispered. 'I'm so glad we pulled our heads out of our arses. I'll see you when you wake up.' He kissed the top of Sherlock's head and closed his eyes, drifting off to sleep.

This completes Fireplaces! I will get on typing up the next section of Jumpers and Scarves after Christmas. I'll give you a hint though: It's titled Skype.

I hope you all have a very Merry Christmas (if that's what you celebrate), and a very happy holidays to all. See you again very soon!

~TSA