Intermission

                                    

                                          
John threw open the door of 221B, hearing the door slam against the wall, then crash back against the door frame. He threw his coat carelessly to the floor, charging inside.
                          
"Sherlock!" He shouted, darting around the flat, looking for the detective. "Sherlock!"
                          
"John?" Sherlock asked, stumbling out of his room. His hair was a mess, and his clothes were completely disheveled.
                          
"I-I left Mary." John said, running up to Sherlock, breath caught in his throat. "I left her, Sherlock, I really did it."
                          
Sherlock's jaw dropped, his mind drawing to a blank for the first time in his life. "What?" He finally asked.
                          
"The only reason I was still with her, was because of the baby, you know that. Well, with the baby...gone... I had no reason to stay with her. I love you Sherlock, and now we can be together." John said, face pulling into a dark sort of smile.
                          
He grabbed Sherlock's shoulders before he could think of some snide reason why it was all a horrible idea, and enveloped his mouth with his own. He moaned, breaking the kiss only long enough to tug off Sherlock's shirt. He threw the fabric carelessly to the floor.
                          
"John..." Sherlock whimpered out, feeling his arousal grow by the second. He pulled the smaller man in tightly, complete caught up in the moment. He tugged John's jumper off, letting it land softly next to his own shirt. The kissing was slow; soft and tender, but with a spark of neediness that neither of them could ignore. John grabbed Sherlock, picking him up in one swift motion.
                          
"Hey, what are you-" Sherlock started, but his sentence was cut of as John threw Sherlock down on the couch, them perched on top of him. He straddled Sherlock's waist, rubbing himself against the outside of Sherlock's to-tight pants. Sherlock's cock twitched, aching to be free of it's fabric prison. He could feel the inside of his pants drenched in precum as John moved his hands to Sherlock's hips.
                          
"You are so amazing." John cooed in Sherlock's ear, sucking and nipping lovingly on the lobe as he slowly undid Sherlock's pants, then pulled the detective free of them. Sherlock was painfully hard, and he whimpered as he cock met the slight chill of the air. John shout Sherlock a grin that could have completely undone him right there and then, before lowering his head down to Sherlock's dick.
                          
"Please" Sherlock groaned, thrusting himself closer to John's face as the army doctor stayed just out of reach, teasing Sherlock, making him need.
                          
"For you, anything." John said, dropping his head, mouth closing around the hard stiffness of Sherlock's cock. Sherlock arched his back, moaning loudly as John's tongue slid and flicked over the slit. He puffed out his cheeks, taking as much of Sherlock into his mouth as possible. Sherlock thrusted into John's mouth, slamming his cock against the back of John's throat. John gagged at first, but he took him all in, sucking and licking every inch greedily.
                          
"ah ah AH!" Sherlock groaned loudly, every little sensation hyper sensitive. "J-John!"
                          
John hummed, sending vibrations coursing through Sherlock's cock, and electrocuting his brain. One, two, three, and Sherlock was tumbling down into orgasm. He shut his eyes tightly, mouth pulling into a tight "O" as he shouted out John's name.
                          
"That was spectacular." Sherlock said, looking up. He was lying alone in his room, surrounded by complete darkness. His hand was held fast on his cock covered in cum. He could feel his hardness turn soft as he let go of himself and reached for a tissue he had sitting on his bedside table waiting for him.
                          
"I miss you John." Sherlock said aloud to himself.
                          
"At least you have your little fantasies to keep you company." Victor said, walking up to Sherlock's bedside. "I mean, if he can't REALLY be here to get you off, at least you can use your amazing brain to create realistic fantasies where he is."
                          
Sherlock hugged his knees tightly, trying to pull away from Victor. He looked at the empty spot on the other side of his bed. He could still see John's face sleepy face smiling at him. It had not even been a week since he was lying there, exhausted because of the pleasure Sherlock had given him. He stared at the John sized gap in his bed, filling him with sorrow as he thought about the John sized hole that was torn into his soul.
                          
"You still have me, and I will never leave you." Victor said, sitting down next to Sherlock. He chuckled, then dug his fingernails into the bite mark on Sherlock's neck. Sherlock cried out in pain, as Victor laughed hysterically. "The pain will drag you back to reality, back to me. Away from HIM."
                          
Sherlock curled in on himself, crying softly as he drifted into a nightmare filled sleep overflowing with Victor's laughter.