Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: Thanks everyone! I hope you enjoyed it! To all my wonderful comments! Really you guys are the best. Also, to my Beta- twolovesonetone who is still helping me.

I plan on starting another AU story. This time, Sherlock is a famous painter who can draw the exact likeness of anyone; the emotions in his portraits are perfect reflections of the person. That is until me mets John Watson...titled "Skin Deep".

PS Go listen to 'Electric Blue' by Icehouse :D

John had wanted to kiss Sherlock senseless, but he tasted like old socks and his stubble brushed up against his mustache in a none to pleasant way. After pulling apart, John made Sherlock go take a shower and a shave. Sherlock grudgingly agreed.

John looked at his surroundings in 221B, realizing, with a rush, that finally he wasn't alone. While it was true that Sherlock needed a shower, the real reason John had sent Sherlock away was so that he couldn't see him cry. It was a lot of information to process so quickly. He's alive! He's alive! He came back to me. He let out a small shout, thenallowed the tears, that had been threatening to overflow, cover his face.

The tears were slow at first and then traced countless paths down his face. It released a tension in his chest and John knew that the heaviness in his heart was finally leaving. Oh, he had been happy occasionally in the last six months, but this, this was an emotion that would take weeks to process.

To be able to look over at the chair that was next to his and not see it empty. To hear the violin again, for the smell of sulphur to invade his nostrils when he came down for breakfast. All the small things he had been missing; they would be his again. John could barely breath.

He composed himself by the time Sherlock came out of the bathroom. He had cut his hair but his curls still framed his face, longer than usual. His stubble was gone and John could see how silky smooth his skin was. Although there were still purple rings under his eyes, John knew that in the next few days they would disappear.

John stood up and walked over to Sherlock. His hair was dripping wet and he was wearing John's robe. It was too small on him and the colors looked ridiculous. Strips didn't compliment Sherlock the way they did John.

"You look like something the cat dragged in." John said affectionately. He placed a light kiss on Sherlock's lips.

Sherlock whimpered. "You have successful tortured me, John. Am I clean enough to be presentable now?"

John stepped back and gave him the once over. "I suppose so. No one can ask for perfection."

"How I missed you." John embraced Sherlock. The scent of him invaded his senses. Sherlock had used his soap, but there was still the tinge of Sherlock's scent lacing it. How have I survived without this? John hoped he would never again have the chance to find out again.

Sherlock gently took John's chin and angled it up towards his face. Sherlock's lips nudged at John's, and he opened up to the taller man's assault. His tongue drank him in. There was no rush; late in the evening, they had the night to themselves.

John lead Sherlock to his bedroom; he paused outside of Sherlock's room. "I never went in there. It felt wrong, you being dead and all." Sherlock kissed John's knuckles. "Thank you." No more was said, and they continued to John's room.

Sherlock on top of the bed, waiting for whatever John wanted to do. John straddled Sherlock. He had relinquished control and was allowing John to touch every part of him. John's hands quickly pulled the knot apart on the robe and pulled it open. It had been so long since John had seen Sherlock naked.

The curves of his body were more pronounced. John didn't like the way Sherlock's hip bones jolted out. He would have to make sure he ate regularly. His eyes lingered all over his body. John took one of Sherlock's nipples in his fingers and slowly rolled in around. Sherlock arched into the touch.

John let his other hand brush up against Sherlock's chest and then his stomach. He could see the muscles draw tight under porcelain skin. John's thumb brushed around and into his bellybutton. His other four fingers fanning out and playing with his nether curls.

Sherlock began to gently hum. It sounded as if the man had just eaten a delicious piece of chocolate and was allowing it to melt on his tongue. John's hand traveled down farther but he ignored Sherlock's cock. Instead, he brought both hands down to Sherlock's thighs.

He made lazy circles with his fingers. Sherlock tried to draw his legs in together, but John kept them apart. Without any warning, John lunged down and his teeth sunk into Sherlock's thigh. Sherlock moaned and his hands came up to squeeze John's hair in between his fingers.

John pressed his teeth in. He sucked and nibbled. Satisfied that he had left an impressive bruise, John finally lifted his head. "There, now you're the Sherlock I know." John's voice cracked at the end.

Sherlock could find no words so instead he stroked the top of John's hand in a soothing action. Anything to convey to the man before him that he was alive and real. John's eyes clouded with lust again and he dipped his head down towards Sherlock's groin.

Sherlock's head tipped back and John watched as the long expanse of Sherlock's neck widened before him. John brought his lips down and placed a small kiss on the underside of Sherlock's erect cock.

Sherlock inhaled a sharp breath. John's tongue teased him; never allowing his mouth to swallow around him. "John." Sherlock groaned. John ignored him and continued his exploration. Suddenly, he stopped. "While you were gone, did you...were you with anyone else?" John kept his head down.

Sherlock's hand traced along the side of John's face. "No, there's ever been anyone but you, John." John let out a breath. "I kissed a woman. She was such a flirt and you were gone. I thought, could one kiss hurt? It was terrible." John waited for Sherlock to get upset with him.

Instead, a hand worked its way under his chin and lifted up his head. Sherlock looked down at him, nothing but devotion gleaming in his eyes. "John, its okay. I understand. You're only human." John laughed. "I supposed I am."

John's mouth placed kisses all over Sherlock's hips and the lower half of his torso. Sherlock wiggled and whimpered. John ignored him and concentrated on re-memorizing the other man's body. John's hands came up and stroked his sides; tracing his arms.

John worked his way back over to Sherlock's cock. His tongue made a lazy, sticky trail up it and he finally engulfed it with his mouth. "Oh, god. John!" Sherlock's hips buckled up. John began to work his neck up and down. "God, how could I have lived without this. You." Sherlock moaned, arching up his back.

John continued his assault. He finally disconnected his mouth and sat up. He eyed Sherlock. "Why am I still dressed?" Sherlock sat up and his hands moved over John's shirt. After he unbuttoned each button, he placed a kiss on John's skin. Sherlock untucked the shirt. "Stand up." John wordlessly followed the command.

Sherlock pushed John's shirt off of him and began to unfasten his trousers. They slipped to the floor and Sherlock tugged down his pants. John was already hard, and Sherlock's hands moved up to trace a path from John's stomach to his groin.

His left hand went behind John and cupped his ass. Sherlock's right thumb came up and rubbed over John's slit. He exhaled deeply and the air hissed through John's clinched teeth. Sherlock's fingers played along his erection and gripped his base. "Um, don't stop." Sherlock complied and his mouth fitted over him.

Sherlock moved his head up and down. John struggled to get deeper into his mouth. John's hands anchored themselves on Sherlock's shoulders; digging his nails in. Sherlock continued to lick and suck until John urgently told him to stop. "I don't want this to end yet."

Sherlock pulled John back onto the bed and on top of him. They just kissed. Slow, breathless kisses that they had both missed. Sherlock never really understood how alive John's mouth made him, until he couldn't have it for six months. John realized just how alone he had been. Sure, he was the type who could make friends easily, but this was something that ran deeper than just another lover or friendship. Sherlock gave John both relationships that he so desperately needed in one person. John continued to kiss Sherlock trying to convey the relief he was filled with.

Sherlock wrapped his arms around tighter. His hands traced the planes of John's shoulders and spine. Sherlock broke off the kiss and pressed a hot trail of kisses all over John's face and neck. John hummed with appreciation. John lifted his body up, placing his hands on Sherlock's chest. "Sherlock, please. I need you inside me."

Sherlock's hand fumbled to the nightstand. He took and uncapped the cream. Sherlock pushed John up his chest, and caught him his mouth. John's hands gripped at the headrail and Sherlock's fingers began trace their way to John's entrance. John moved into Sherlock's mouth and moaned as one finger was gently brought up into him. His fingers were slick and John could feel the cool sensation of the cream, as it slicked around and into him.

Sherlock continued to move his fingers in deeper and John moved his hips; rolling them its his mouth and over his fingers. John let out a strangled groan as Sherlock moved another finger inside him. He moved them in gently and brushed up inside John. The blond headed man shivered above him.

Finally satisfied, Sherlock moved John downward. John slowly pressed down and took Sherlock's cock inside of him. Sherlock moaned and felt his toes curl up. John waited a moment and then began to move. He had has hands gripping Sherlock's chest and used it as leverage as he gently pounded up and down.

Sherlock's hand came up to John's cock and stoked it. His other hand gripped John's hip; helping to guide him. Sherlock couldn't believe that he had almost forgotten what sex could feel like. It had been a rough, unforgiving half year and he had secretly wondered if he was too damaged to love John like he deserved. Sherlock was happy to see how wrong he had been.

John's head leaned back and he let the sensations overtake him. Sherlock watched in amazement as John's body began to lightly glow. John was oblivious to the change, and Sherlock didn't bring it to his attention. "Sherlock, I'm so close." John gritted his teeth.

Sherlock could feel his own muscles tightening in his lower abdomen. Sherlock watched in fascination as the hand gripping John began to glow. Sherlock let out a surprised sound and John opened his mouth to ask what was the matter but instead he he let out a moan as his orgasm overtook all rational thought.

With muscles flexing all around him, and the feeling of John's hands clawing into his chest, Sherlock came. It racked his whole body and Sherlock felt as if he was coming apart at the seams. The aether and that power that was Undine enveloped them. Blue and green crashed together and Sherlock could feel the light of it on his closed eyelids. John let out one final moan and collapsed onto Sherlock.

The power lingered. It had been part of John, but now it was part of both of them. They were just two men; but when they were together, they were so much more. A force to be reckoned with. Sherlock could see that now.

Sherlock finally opened his eyes to met those of his lover. John's eyes were sparkling. The aether had lighted his body before...but this, his eyes. There had always been depth to them. Now, there was an energy, a dazzling array; like John could see into his soul. Sherlock gasped. "John, you're eyes, they're electric blue." He knew he could drown in those eyes; lose himself for an eternity and then all over again.

John smiled softy. "Its only because I can see you." He blushed and his eyes softened.

Sherlock knew he must look the idiot, his mouth hanging open. "God, how I missed you."

John laughed. Sherlock joined him, a laugh of joy he didn't know he could feel again. Sherlock and John pressed their slick foreheads together.

Their laughing rang throughout the house.