AN: And, by popular demand, I give you a second chapter. Yay!

Chapter warning: More sexy times ahead, as well as some angsty bits just to show that they have a real connection.

Disclaimer: Still in no way mine!

He pulled at his bonds with little effect- he was securely bound to the chair.

Looking at the two men standing near him with wide eyes, his breath hitching in his throat, John tried to suppress a shiver with no success.

The bright light hanging over him was blinding, the room itself was cold; there was a tray of 'implements' just to one side of his bolted to the floor chair and he could clearly imagine what each and every one of them could be used for.

"Now, Dr. Watson, shall we begin?" The shorter of the two men, the brunette, said as he moved towards John's restrained form.

"I can't wait to hear you scream." The taller one, the blonde, said with an audible smirk to his voice.

Clamping his jaw shut he made it as clear as possible through body language that they would have a long night ahead of them if they thought that they could easily make him beg, and he truly hoped that he wouldn't give in too soon.

"Shall we begin?" Jim said as he took up a pair of scissors from the table and began to cut John's clothes off.

Breathing hard in indignation- That was one of his favorite jumpers!- he struggled to not make a sound at the press of cold metal touching his over-heated skin at random intervals.

"Perfect." The brunette said as he pulled the last tatters of John's upper wear off, and set the scissors down for the moment.

"Sebby? What do you think?" Just as the ex-colonel took breath to utter his suggestion a phone started to ring.

'Sherlock!' Was the first thought to pass through all three men's minds.

Picking John's phone up from where it was sitting on the tray, Jim accepted the call- they had all learned that it was just easier to have John talk to, or yell at, the detective so that he wouldn't come looking for his blogger and interrupt something important; just like he was doing now- and held to phone next to the bound blonde's ear.

"What is it Sherlock? I'm kind of busy." A pause and an eye-roll.

"No, I can't get away at the moment. Not even for an eight." An agitated huff.

"I'm kind of tied up at the moment." Pause, then an exasperated sigh.

"Yes! That WAS a euphemism for sex." Pause.

"No! I will not put my base urges on hold for a case!" Pause, accompanied by an agitated foot tapping.

"I. Don't. Care!" Gritting teeth, never a good sign.

"Sherlock!" At that Jim took the phone away and held it up to his own ear.

"Sherly, this is Jim- remember me?" A pause as he waits for an affirmative response.

"You do? Good! Listen, Sebby and I have our Johnny strapped to a chair and are about to sexually torture him until he either cracks or we all achieve orgasm. So it would be greatly appreciated if you didn't interrupt again for the rest of the night. Okay? Hello?" Jim takes the phone away from his ear with an exaggerated pout.

"He hung up on me!" John was the first to crack and begin laughing, quickly followed by Seb and then Jim.

"You! You are just too perfect!" John gasped out as he tried to regain his breath, if his hands hadn't been so securely tied down he would have been clutching his sides.

"How I wish I had a picture of his face when you told him that. Priceless!" And that set them all off again.

This was John's sixth date since he had met these two, but it was only the fourth one he'd had with the two of them.

On their first date John had made a comment about how he felt a bit of a third wheel because of the easy familiarity between the other two men, and Jim had quickly come up with a solution:

"Then you'll just have to date us both separately as well as together until you feel you've gotten to know us better now won't you."

John hadn't thought that that could work until he went on his second date.

The second date:

Sebastian had come to 221 to pick him up, unlike the last date where they had all just met up at the restaurant.

Mrs. Hudson had shown the tall blonde up to the B flat just as John was getting the last of his casual date wear straightened up and Sherlock told off.

"Now listen here you lanky git, I don't care what you agreed to while I was out of the flat! If I wasn't here to actually agree to it then it wasn't an agreement! Now shut your gob, because I'm still going out!"

"Knock! Knock! Boys? You have company!" Walking passed the little landlady, Seb landed a quick kiss to the side of John's mouth and gave him a happy smile.

"Oh!" This was from Mrs. Hudson as she expected a jealous fit to be thrown by Sherlock at the obvious cheating that was going on.

"Mrs. Hudson, I'd like for you to meet Sebastian, one of my... boyfriends." He was hesitant to say this to the old woman as he didn't know how well she would take to one of her tenants being in a polygamous relationship.

"Oh, well..." John gave a sigh as she kept darting looks between him and the sulking detective on the couch.

A casual on looker would think the man not paying them any mind, but the truth was that he was observing every minute twitch everyone in the room was making and deducing them all to within an inch of their lives.

"I've said it before, Mrs. Hudson, and I'll say it again: there is nothing going on between Sherlock and myself. Neither of us is interested in the other. Now Seb and I have a date to get on with, so good night." With a final glare at the recumbent figure on the couch John led Seb out of the flat and into the waiting cab.

"Sorry about that-!" A pair of lips on his own cut his half-formed apology off. It wasn't until the cabby was asking for his fare for the third time that either man even attempted to pull away from the other.

Stepping from the car, John had a look around as Seb paid.

"It's a pub." He stated once he was rejoined by the taller man.

"Yeah, it is. They serve the best fish and chips in town." The ex-colonel whispered conspiratorially in the doctor's ear, making him shiver.

Trying to ignore how turned on he was- first from that extended make-out session in the cab, and then from that velvety voice in his ear- John followed the tall man into the dingy pub and over to a table in the corner that had a good angle on the TV over the bar-top.

Seb ordered for them both and got them both pints, and then conversation turned towards the game being played on the telly.

They quickly found that they were rooting for opposite teams, and that gave John a great idea for a bet.

"Winner gets to top?" Giving a snort into his beer Seb quickly agreed while giving John a heated look.

After that conversation turned to other topics- Army anecdotes, hobbies, Jim- but they kept a close eye on the game as well.

They were nearly done with their food- and John would reluctantly agree that it was very good, but he refused to say it was the best for principle's sake- when the game was finally won.

And Seb just smiled as John huffed.

"In the bathroom, on your knees, now." He said in his low growl that made it hard for John to stand let alone walk, but considering he'd been half-hard since the taxi ride he wasn't about to let this opportunity slide.

The bathroom was small, and they easily jammed the door to have some privacy, then it was a war of tongues as they pulled at each others buttons and undid zippers.

John dropped to his knees as soon as he had Seb's jeans undone, pulling the pants down to mid-thigh he quickly wrapped his lips around the already engorged head- the doctor was gratified to note that he wasn't the only one who had been aching and needy through out dinner.

They were quick since they were in a public restroom, but that didn't retract from their enjoyment of each other. Knees weak as they exited the small room they weren't prepared to walk straight into a bored looking Sherlock.

"A public restroom John? You'll need to get tested now just for the diseases you picked up off the floor. Now come, we have a case." Too shocked to put up much of a fight, John was dragged out of the bar and onto the street to hail a cab.

He was more than a little pissed at the detective once he regained his equilibrium, and he told the tall git- in no uncertain terms- just how 'Not Good' he was being in that moment.

He spent the night wrapped in his tall blonde's arms, and by morning they shared a laugh with Jim over breakfast over the pictures the ex-colonel had snapped of Sherlock's shocked face after John had stormed off.

He really felt a connection to Sebastian after that night. The sniper went from being just a shag buddy to being a true mate, someone John could grab a couple of beers with and just relax around.

But of course since his second date had gone so well the third one just had to make up for it.

The third date:

It had started the day before the date was supposed to happen when John had received a package. The attached note had been very clear:

'My dear Johnny,

If you could please see to it that you wear this tomorrow evening on our date I would be very grateful. The venue I plan to take us to has rather sever standards, and although I quite enjoy your jumpers- especially when I get to take them off you- I don't want you to feel under-dressed.

Sincerely yours,

Jim'

Inside the package was a beautifully tailored suit and a pair of hand-made leather shoes. The label on the jacket said Westwood, which John hardly believed, but the most surprising thing about it was that everything was expertly tailored to HIS form.

Trying it on just to see how it fit he was surprised by how well the lines traced his body, and at just how good it made him look.

Deciding he was too curious to just drop the question of why it fit so well, John sent a text off to Jim.

How did you get my measurements? JW

O Johnny, I've seen you naked, it wasn't that hard. JM

And I do hope you won't try wearing pants while in that suit. It would completely ruin the line. JM

Blushing slightly at the second text, and still a bit confused at the first, John barely had time to put the suit away before Sherlock was dragging him out on a case.

And that is where things went wrong for the doctor.

The case involved a young woman- no older than twenty- who had been brutally beaten to death. The worst part was that she had been the third one found in two days time.

Sherlock tracked the man responsible down to an upscale apartment complex, and then had taken a blow to the head that had knocked him out cold.

John might have been able to over power the man quickly, but no-one- namely Sherlock- had told him the man was a black belt.

The struggle was fierce, but John finally cracked the man's head against the corner of a counter in the kitchen by sheer luck and won the day; but definitely not before sustaining his own long list of injuries.

By the time he had called Lestrade with their location, and with the request of an ambulance since he knew he wasn't going anywhere without one, Sherlock had finally started to come back around.

That was the last John knew until he woke up again in the hospital. Seeing Sherlock sitting next to him with a bandage on his head was reassuring; feeling the tightness of his chest and the pain radiating throughout his body, not so much.

He had managed to read through his chart- which Sherlock had been kind enough to get for him- before the nurses had taken it away. He had to reassure himself that it could have been worse, much worse.

A deep laceration on his right palm- from when he had pushed his hand through the glass table top in order to break his fall- it had required twelve stitches, but thankfully hadn't been deep enough to cause tendon damage.

His right knee was badly twisted- he remembered the kick that had pushed through the table had landed there.

He had six badly bruised ribs and a bruised kidney- just the memory of those hits made him wince.

A mild concussion and forehead laceration that had taken another seven stitches to close- John was startled to realize that he didn't remember receiving that.

But the worst of it all was his left arm: sprained wrist, twisted elbow and left shoulder twisted nearly out of its socket- it was when the hold had been put on his arm that John had bucked the guy into the counter.

All in all it was bad, but not too bad; and John would simply have to keep telling himself that.

It was really the after care that had him worried after all.

The hospital would keep him over-night for observation since it had taken him so long to awaken, and then he would be given a crutch- they couldn't give him a pair because of his left shoulder and arm, nor could he use just a cane because of the stitches in his right palm- and send him home with care instructions and orders to follow-up with a physical therapist for his shoulder once he had healed some.

Finding someone to help him was going to be the hard part.

The thought of Sherlock doing all the little things that needed to be done for an invalid in his condition was laughable, and he would have laughed too if it hadn't pained him so much just to breath.

Mrs. Hudson was out of the question. Even though she might be willing to help she herself was to fragile to support a full-grown man should he collapse, she wouldn't even be able to help him up the stairs to the flat let alone back down them when he needed to visit his doctor again.

The thought of Harry helping him was even more laughable than Sherlock doing so.

It was later that night, just after he'd been given something to help him sleep, when John finally remembered Jim and Seb and that he should call them to let them know what was going on. He would blame the heavy pain killers he'd been given for his lack of thought to his two lovers.

Picking up his phone from the night stand- and thanking the stars above that Sherlock had left to get coffee, or terrorize the hospital staff or something, and most likely wouldn't be back for quite some time- John pulled up Jim's number and put through the call.

"John? Are you all right?" Came Jim's concerned voice over the tiny speaker.

"Yeah, I guess so. I got beat up a bit while on a case. Was worth it though to protect those women." As Jim huffed on the other end of the line a stray thought passed through John's drug addled mind.

"Jim? How did you know I was hurt? You sounded concerned before I ever said a word." Jim just made a dismissive sound at that and turned the conversation to a different topic, but John was barely able to follow the conversation so he didn't really notice.

"You're going to need someone to watch over you for the next week or two, right?" At John's affirmative noise he continued.

"Seb and I would be happy to do so, if you wouldn't mind staying with us for a little while that is." John was having a hard time keeping his eyes open by this point, but he fought to stay conscious at those words.

"Sounds great, I'm being released tomorrow I think." He managed to say before his eyelids drooped again.

"I'll see you then Johnny. Now get some sleep, you look exhausted." Jim's small laugh was a great comfort to John as he began to sink into the mattress.

"Not here, can't see me." He was barely audible by now.

"Just sleep John, we can talk tomorrow." And, without disconnecting the call, John was asleep. A nurse would later hang up the phone and place it back on the night stand before Sherlock came back.

And so the next day, instead of going on a surprise trip to France for opera, John found himself in Jim's flat and being catered to like he was royalty.

Better, in fact. Unless the royals also had sexy men who would 'service' them without a second thought and without expectations of reciprocity.

And during his two-week stay in Jim's flat- Seb had practically moved in as well so that he could be there with John during the rare moments Jim wasn't- he had also gotten closer to both men. Both physically and emotionally.

When he'd learned that Jim was actually a master criminal, and Seb his number one hired gun, it didn't actually rock him as much as it probably should have.

He blamed Sherlock for building up his tolerance levels.

"I don't want him dead! I want him to suffer!" It had been a week since his release from the hospital by this point, and John had finally tried walking on his own with the crutch.

Hearing raised voices from Jim's study, John was going to turn back until he caught the last sentence and curiosity had gotten the better of him.

"That piece of filth hurt what is mine! And I will not stand for it!" Moving closer to the slightly open door, John could just make out Jim ranting on his phone while Seb watched passively.

"You had better do as I say or I'll be very displeased." Ending the call Jim hung his head for a moment before calling out:

"You can come in now John, there's no need to put extra pressure on your knee by standing there." Seb jumped slightly and shot a sheepish look towards the doctor as he made his way into the room.

"So... you just ordered someones death." John stated in his calmest voice after he had seated himself in the middle of the plush leather sofa sitting against the wall.

"No, I order that god-forsaken piece of shit that hurt you to be taken down a few pegs. He will survive. He will survive to know just what mistake he made by hurting you." John was amazingly okay with this- or not so amazingly if you considered that he was best friends with a sociopath.

Looking at Jim and patting the seat next to him as an invitation he also caught Seb's eye he indicated for the ex-colonel to join them on his other side, John waited until they were seated before getting comfortable.

Leaning back into Seb's strong embrace, and placing his still brace encased knee on Jim's lap, John waited a moment for the other two the reposition themselves under him before he began asking questions.

Over the next two hours he found out information that Mycroft would kill for, and probably had.

"Your taking this all awfully well John." Sebastian whispered into his ear while tracing random patterns on John jumper clad belly. Shrugging, John gave the only answer that felt honest.

"Most of my family is either dead or permanently drunk, my best friend is a sociopath whose brother enjoys kidnapping me for tea- which probably makes me his best friend as well- no-one ever notices me unless it has to do with Sherlock- and don't think I haven't figured that part out. If I hadn't been his flatmate neither one of you would have given me the time of day in that club." When neither man denied that the doctor continued.

"You two have been the best thing to happen to me since I was discharged, and that includes meeting Sherlock. I've been hanging around you both enough this last week to know that you both like me, maybe even as much as I like both of you. So so what if you're a couple of criminals that could probably destroy half of Europe on a days notice. My gran always told me to follow my heart and I'd never go wrong, so I'll do just that." Tilting his head slightly he gave Sebastian a light kiss while squeezing Jim's hand that rested on his knee.

"I won't leave either of you over this if that's what's concerning you- I like you both far too much to do that- if you want to drive me away you'll have to try harder than ordering someone's torture to do that- I WAS in the Army you know." As a silence descended over the three men it was interrupted by Jim's whisper.

"What was that?" The doctor asked as he didn't understand it the first time.

"I said: and Asia. Give me a days notice and I'll take down all of Europe and Asia, just for you." In that moment John knew he was done for as his body began to respond all on its own from the power and danger radiating off of Jim at that moment.

"You do realize I'm an adrenaline junkie, right?" His blood began to race at the smirk that played around Jim's lips, and he shivered as Seb's fingers went from soothing to teasing and made their way under his layers.

"We know John, and we won't let you down." And with that Jim leaned over and began to bite and lick at John's mouth, never deepening the kiss, nor letting John do so himself.

He was trapped between his two lovers-his two world-class criminal lovers- and was completely at their mercy as they teased and ravished him into oblivion.

Just before he passed out totally the blonde heard something that made his heart swell.

"You know, I think I like him better than you."

"Don't worry Sebby, I'm not jealous. I like him better than you too." John fell asleep with a smile on his face.

Returning to 221b after that had been hard.

Fourth date:

John wore the suit- sans pants, they really did ruin the line- and was whisked away to the most expensive restaurant in London.

Over dinner- that cost more than John made in a month- Seb handed over a manila folder to the doctor while he and Jim openly ogled the short blonde in his suit- John had the distinct feeling that he would be naked and the expensive fabric irreparably ruined as soon as they were out of the public eye.

Flipping open the folder for a distraction he gasped at what he saw, and then had to restrain himself from jumping either one or both of these men right there in the middle of the overly posh dinning room.

"Thank you." He managed to get out once he calmed enough to speak again.

"We'll go check out your new offices after dessert, shall we?" Jim said as if it were no big thing while Seb just sat there with a knowing grin on his face.

They had gotten him his own private practice with an attached surgery, all he would need to do now was interview for a nurse or two- Jim had included the files of several likely candidates- and he could open for business as soon as he liked.

He was already thinking over several of the naughty things he could do to these men in his new exam room to show his thanks.

Two days later he still wasn't able to sit comfortably, and that was when Mycroft decided to put in an appearance. Luckily- or not so considering that this WAS the British Government he was talking to- they were in John's new offices rather than Baker street.

"Dr. Watson, I believe you are looking for capable nursing staff?" Before John could answer Jim came in and flounced into the chair next to Mycroft while John, who was sitting behind his desk and away from these two, realized something totally different from personnel decisions was going on.

Deciding to keep quiet and just watch, John sat back and tried to figure out what was going on.

"Mycroft."

"Moriarty."

"Why are you here bothering my Johnny?"

"You know why, so I see no reason to discuss this."

"Do you honestly expect me to let you put a spy so close to him?"

"And you expect me to believe that you haven't already?"

Jim just smirked at that, and John finally put all the pieces together. Deciding to cut the tension between these two before an international incident could occur he spoke up.

"I'm going to need a rotation of nurses trained in trauma care as well as locum work. I'll need four to six in total if I want to use my new surgery, and I'll also need a cleaning staff on call to ensure that my operating theater stays sterile." Noticing that he had both men's full attention he pressed on.

"There is also some equipment I still need- an autoclave and an incubator to name two- and I need a contract with one of the hospitals to use their MRI machine as well as CAT scanner." Noticing that neither man had yet moved, John decided to spell it out for them and then leave them to it.

"You can each provide me with half of the staff I need- you can divvy up the rest between yourselves- but I will have the final sign off on them since I'm the one that has to work with them. I don't much care that you two are trying to use me in some tug-of-war game that I'm completely unaware of, so long as I can still take care of my patients its fine. My only demand is that these offices be considered neutral territory in the future- I don't want political intrigues or assassination attempts in my office." Standing up he headed for the door.

"I'm getting a coffee from the corner shop- don't kill each other while I'm gone. I'll be back soon, please come to an accord before then." Grabbing his jacket he left two stunned silent world powers alone in his office.

"I see why you and my brother are fawning over him now." As he was shot a menacing glare the 'minor government official' simply smirked before he turned serious again.

"'Neutral territory'." He sneered.

"It's a good idea though, in theory at least." Jim laughed out.

A few minutes passed as they- being the geniuses that they were- ran through all the possibilities of such a set up.

"I will, of course, take care of the contracts and the cleaning staff."

"I'll have the equipment here by tomorrow. You already have your spies ready for their interviews?"

"Of course, just as you do yours. He's already realized that his entire patient roster will be filled by your men."

"And yours now too, don't forget that."

"Indeed. Until we meet again."

"I'm holding my breath for such an event." John slipped in just then as Mycroft made his exit.

"So. How'd it go?" His only answer was a kiss and an invitation to lunch.

Fifth date:

John wore one of the new suits in his closet- Jim had insisted on buying several of them since he would be the one tearing them apart as he groped at the blonde man- and climbed into the private car that had been sent to pick him up.

Tonight was his private date with Jim- at Seb's insistence since he'd gotten a private one himself- and he didn't know what to expect.

"You look amazing." Was the quiet comment from the seat next to him.

"So how was your day?" John had finally finished hiring his staff- half working for Mycroft, half working for Jim and all with orders to protect John at all costs- and was nearly ready to open for business.

"Great! I'm not too sure who works for who, but everyone seems to be getting on well, so no problems there. Thanks for paying their salaries by the way. Well, you and Mycroft. Oh! And Sherlock has a new experiment involving sound so I've been under strict instructions to be quiet all day- maybe that's why I'm rambling now- and he's been a right bastard over the whole 'Private Practice' thing, and my taking even more time away from 'The Work'. When he said he was married to his work he really wasn't kidding. I think I'll shut up now, your giving me a weird look." Closing his lips, John waited for a response.

"Right. We'll have to do something about that." Leaving that cryptic statement hanging in the air he then told John about where they were going.

"A symphony? I've never been to one." And after the performance- one John would forever remember as being the one to convert him to the live arts- they grabbed take-out and headed back to Baker street.

"But..."

"No buts. I said we'd do something about him and I keep my promises."

And that is how John found himself face down, spread eagled, tied to the four corners of his bed, his hips propped up so that he couldn't get any friction and being teased until he screamed.

"Jim! Jim! Fuck! Buggering hell! Jim!" He was too far gone to care about Sherlock's request for quiet, or even to notice when said man stormed into the room.

It wasn't until Jim stilled his incredibly nimble fingers that John managed to turn his head and see the tall detective standing there.

"You must be Sherlock- John's told me so much about you! I'm Jim, Jim Moriarty- Hi!- and if you don't turn around now and leave us to it then we'll just continue with you watch." To prove his point he began moving his fingers against John's prostate again.

Even through his mortification at being watched by his flatmate- or maybe because of it- John couldn't stop his moans from escaping once more.

"Yes. Yes! More! Jim!" He barely registered his door slamming, or the one down stairs following suit soon after, but he did take notice of Jim repositioning himself.

"You ready John?" Whimpering out his reply- he was more than ready- he cried out as Jim slammed into his prepared hole.

"Jim!"

Sherlock refused to speak to him for a week after that, and it wasn't until the phone call while on his sixth date that he was invited out onto a case again.

Now he was looking up at the two incredible men that agreed to acting out his deepest, darkest fantasy for him.

"I doubt he'll call back after that, but unfortunately the moods been lost. If you"ll untie me?" But Jim and Seb just shared a look and a smile.

"But Johnny, just because that fantasy is gone..."

"...doesn't mean we can't make a new one." And with that the rest of John's clothes were cut off and he was reduced to a mewling mess.