#fff333

***

The moment Sherlock lets his eyes roam over John Watson after Mike has introduced him, he knows that this man is the answers to his predicament. 

Finding someone willing to share living space with a mad scientist as Mrs Hudson calls him, is challenging. Sherlock places an advertisement in the papers - very old-fashioned for him - but needs must. He lists the qualities he thinks will be useful for him, and him alone. It never occurs to him that he’s addressing people of the 21st century and not 1950s housewives.

“None of them are willing to be in charge of the grocery shopping, the laundry, and cleaning,” Sherlock tells Mike. “At least, I think not. No one has answered the advertisements.”

“Really? I’m shocked!” Mike retorts sarcastically. 

Sherlock scowls at him and returns to his microscope. 

Hours later, shortly after Molly has left to get him coffee, Mike walks into the lab again, bringing John into Sherlock’s life.

Before he asks where John has served, a thought hits him: “His wings are broken, and yet he stands there as if he’s determined to fight back anyone who dares to challenge him.”

And challenge him, Sherlock does. John in turn, does not disappoint, but challenges Sherlock back.

“I could kiss him!” Sherlock contemplates.

***

The way John licks his lips at Angelo’s on their first “date”, tells Sherlock that one day soon, he will seize the opportunity and claim John’s gorgeous mouth with his own.

Their first chance elapses when Angelo interrupts their fit of laughter by bringing John’s cane back. John hesitates just a bit too long when he returns, and Sherlock’s valour dissolves.

There’s no stopping them the night John shoots Jeff Hope, though. All through dinner at Sherlock’s favourite Chinese restaurant, the tension between them has been building. Whenever John licks his lips, which happens frequently, sparks of desire ignite in Sherlock’s spine. He squirms in his seat because of his growing erection, and he’s certain his face is flushing profusely.

“Hot in here, isn’t it?” John remarks. “If you’re finished, we – “

“I am!” Sherlock interrupts, stands, and wraps his Belstaff around him to hide the bulge in his tight trousers.

John chuckles and follows him out into the cold winter night. Sherlock welcomes the wind cooling his cheeks, and after a minute of walking, his trousers are more comfortable to move in.

How they manage to make it up the seventeen steps before they devour each other’s mouths, will remain a mystery. It’s all a bit of a blur to Sherlock. The moment John pulls Sherlock closer; his penis is rock hard once more.

“John,” he moans. “John.”

He’s slightly embarrassed that his extensive vocabulary eludes him. John however, has no trouble vocalising his opinions. 

“Christ, Sherlock. Do you have any idea how hard I am for you right now? You are the most gorgeous creature I’ve ever seen in my life. Fuck, yeah, that feels so good. Your mouth, Sherlock, it should come with a warning sign.”

Finally, Sherlock’s mind comes back online again.

“Take me to bed, John. Please.”

“God, yes! And Sherlock?”

Sherlock looks down at John with wide eyes, trying his damnest to focus.

“Yes, John?”

“When you’re not busy kissing me; keep talking. Your fucking voice! God.”

“Oh, John,” Sherlock purrs, and concludes that his flatmate’s mended wings are about to unfold, enveloping them both in a cocoon of desire, bonding, and devotion.

***

Downstairs, Mrs Hudson sends a text.

It is resolved. Surveillance terminated.

At long last. Much obliged. M

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He was relieved that decision to lower the rescue cradle to the ground and detach the winch cables had already been made.  It wasn’t the ideal way to load and secure people into the seats, but it would mean Gordon could get their five hapless hikers secured without the cradle rocking violently from every small twitch Two made above.  It shouldn’t be long now until Gordon gave the okay to re-lower the cables ready for extraction.

But the call Gordon gave over the comms was far from what Virgil was expecting.

“Virgil, I have eyes on your bogey aircraft, coming in fast and armed!  Get clear!  Repeat, get clear of the canyon!!”

His instrumentation confirmed what his younger brother had yelled.  Aircraft coming in from above and behind, slightly to starboard.  At the same time Two was buffeted by a gusty headwind.  Two wasn’t built for evasive manoeuvres even when space was not so limited, so all Virgil could do was blast the VTOL and climb as quickly as possible, and do what he could to avoid the rocky walls on either side.

“Weapons fire!”

Something exploded somewhere to starboard, buffeting Two sideways and forcing the port wing into the cliff face, grinding and tearing against the remaining five meters of rock until she reached clear air.

Warning lights lit up red on Virgil’s dash console.

Nothing structural on the starboard side, but the port wing had taken damage.  It was making evading the other aircraft difficult, and said bogey seemed to be tailing him, watching and waiting, but keeping Two within weapons range.

“Thunderbird Two, status report!” John demanded.

“Little busy right now Five!” Virgil growled through gritted teeth as he tried to compensate for the twisted cahelium while safely firing the main engines and gain some distance on the other plane.

John showed his relief at that simple answer by giving Virgil helpful stats instead.  “The GDF should be with you in two minutes.  Thunderbird One is on the way to the rescue location to pick up Gordon and the rescue cradle.”

In other words, get out of here and avoid taking further damage if you can!

After all, John would have access to most of the same warnings Two was flashing – port wing assembly damaged, hinge mechanism offline, potential damage to hydraulic line and electronics being the main concerns.

“FAB, Five.  Main engines seem to be unaffected, steering’s a little off and I won’t be able to fold the port wing, but I should be able to make it home as long as I don’t take another . . .”

The pilot of the hostile aircraft had apparently grown impatient and fired on Two again, this time exploiting the weakness of the broken wing.  Multiple explosions rippled along the port side, taking the port side engine offline and sending Two violently sideways and bathing the entire cockpit in the horrifying glow of red and amber warning lights.

Virgil was so busy trying to stop his ‘bird from rolling, while diverting what controls he could into working systems to compensate for those he’d lost, and attempting to keep her in the air with only one working main engine, that he almost didn’t register the fact he’d lost comms.

“Another what, Thunderbird Two?”  A fast series of critical warnings from Two lit up across John’s displays, and then a bunch of them blinked out again.  “Thunderbird Two, respond.”

No response.

“Virgil?”

Nothing.  He tried boosting the signal.

“Thunderbird Two, do you read?”

She’s lying in the grand bed. It’s the earlier hour before sunrise and she should be asleep but she can’t. There’s no rest for her. The closest thing to comfort is when she’s busy in the lab but no, there are duties and responsibilities that she has to live up to.

They lost so many during the conflict with Namor and his people...she almost lost herself. It had been so tempting, giving in to the whispered words of an uncle she never truly knew. But that was not how she was raised and she had made a different call in the end. Maybe her family would have been proud of her. She’ll never know.

Turning, her gaze falls on the photograph on the nightstand. All four of them. Happy. Together. Reaching out, she tips the frame over so she can’t see what once was.

The morning air is barely chilly as she tosses the cover aside. The water is, though: icy and shocking, it wakes her up fully, rousing her from the stupor she so often finds her mind in.

There’s a message waiting for her when she exits the shower, the bead in the bracelet glowing softly and a soft ping pulsating from the minuscule speakers.

Grabbing the bracelet, her thumb rubs the bead on it’s own volition – she isn’t paying attention fully but the moment the face of Nakia appears, the young queen’s focus is captured.

“Someone wants to say hi to you, Shuri,” the soft tones of the woman announces.

She sounds and looks tired, but there’s a bright smile on her face as she lifts a bundle into view, tilting it to reveal a little face.

“Meet your nephew,” Nakia smiles softly. “His name is T’Challa but we call him Toussaint for now.”

The little baby wrinkles his nose, eyes still closed and a little fist bumping into his chin.

“Toussaint,” Shuri whispers, testing the word.

She knows they can’t hear her but the little boy in Nakia’s arms breaks a smile as if reacting to her saying his name.

“How did you know that I am confined in here?” Naoki continued, looked at the eyes of his former protector, searching for the tenderness that he once knew. “I met Akane and Kazushi at the recording studio with Toya. They told me that you are here and you were inconsolable in the beginning.” “I can’t trust those two. They cannot keep a secret.” “I should not know it?” Sho couldn’t believe his ears. There was a lump in his throat.

//

After their last concert from Japan Alive Festival, there were discussions that they should make another album. Naoki penned three more songs that could be the start of a sophomore record. Sho contributed another three. But as soon as they began to rehearse them, Naoki fell into the habit again of overdoing things chasing for the perfect sound. Hallucinations followed and migraines so strong he could not work with a single light on. Kazushi was furious and threatened to walk out. Akane, on the other hand, was helpless. In the end, the second album came to a standstill. Naoki would do the therapy once and for all. “It was never going to work out anyway,” Kazushi told Sho when they accidentally met at the recording studio. Akane was there too. Toya enlisted them to work on his solo album. Sho noticed that she looked more mature. Gone was her innocence. Taking care of Naoki would probably do that to a 23-year-old whose life was dedicated to the man and the maker of the music she loved. “Naoki would love to see you again,” Akane said as she stood in front of him. She gave him the address of the hospital and the rest was up to him.

\\

Naoki walked towards him. Without uttering a word, Sho grabbed Naoki’s neck and pulled the singer to him. Anguish on his face. The hug was so tight they could hardly breathe. Like a hungry man his lips found Naoki’s while his hands travelled to his skin. He could feel the ribs protruding from Naoki’s flimsy texture of the hospital robe. He only had his knickers on. “Mmm.” Sho savoured Naoki’s taste. Tongues sparred like swords. Is there an etiquette of having sex with a patient in a hospital? “You accepted to play guitar for Rita Kashii. You belong only to me. You will only play for me. You promised.” The voice was trembling but the statement was loud and clear. It was also correct. Sho could feel it in his bones. Their heads touched. “I know. I am sorry. It is only for this record,” Sho whispered on his lover’s half-opened eyes. “When will you come back to me?” Sho didn’t answer. Swallowed hard. //

While Naoki’s health deteriorated, the relationship among Naoki, Sho and Akane was not harmonious. Sho thought he accepted the setup, her in between him and Naoki, but there were days when he resented the girl. On the day he admitted to Naoki that it would be better if they remained friends, he cried in front of him. “You are moving out as well…” It was not a question. “Of course.” Naoki walked in the music room murmuring. “I am selfish. I know that now.” “No, Sho. You are only human. But I cannot choose between you and Akane.” So Sho collected his clothes, his guitars and equipment and other belongings one after the other. \\ Sho found himself lying on the hospital bed with Naoki, whose head was on his chest. “Akane will move in with Kazushi after their marriage, the house is going to be empty…” “Huh?” “They are getting married next month,” Naoki continued, “and I have given them my blessing.” “For real?” Sho sat up. “They’ve been in love ever since. Akane admitted it to me. Who am I to keep someone who doesn’t want me?” Sho shook his head slowly. “No. That’s not true.” “I am not going to be mad if you don’t want to, Sho.” The guitarist loved the man so much he’d do anything for him. He moved closer, their noses almost touching. “I am not going to hurt you, Sho.” He pressed their lips together. Then slowly showered kisses on his face. “I know.” Sho said in a small voice. Naoki tasted salt from Sho’s cheeks as he held the man tightly.