Author's Note:

Thank you so much to everyone who has been taking the time to review!


John dropped the subject instantly, watching his husband with his bottom lip tugged between his teeth. He stood slowly and looked around the room before finding his suit, slipping it on and jogging after his husband. "I had to keep holding you up," he said to Sherlock as he jogged past him in the sand and jumped into the water with a shout. He stayed under the surface for a long moment before popping up with a gasp, looking up at his husband with a large grin.

Sherlock didn't feel like running, having had spent a lot of energy this morning while shagging John. He dropped his towel on the beach, far enough up so the tide wouldn't get to it. He began putting lotion on the spots he could reach. "You just like to show off," he remarked to John as his husband finally resurfaced. A small smirk tugged at his lips.

"Only for you, baby," John shouted back with a wink, walking out of the water with a large grin. The water was a decent temperature compared to the warm air and it felt perfect. "Here." He grabbed the lotion and spread it across his husband's back with a smile before motioning toward the water. "Second day is the charm."

The smirk on his face got bigger and he shook his head slightly. Sherlock relaxed into John's touch instantly. "I will be so good, that soon I will also be a Sea God." He was determined to get good at swimming. For some reason it had turned out more complicated than he thought, or was it just one of those simple, normal things he just couldn't grasp? Like the burnt toast.

"Aquaman?" John said with a small laugh, pressing a kiss against Sherlock's ear. He moved slowly toward the water with a slow sway of his hips just for his husband. The moment he reached the tide, he turned around and studied Sherlock. "What should your reward be if you learn to swim today?" He asked as he squinted against the sun.

"What the hell kind name is Aquaman?" Sherlock frowned in thought. Was he missing something here? He glanced over to John, when his husband spoke again. "I can think of a lot of ways to reward me." He smirked as he made his way out to the water. "It's cold," he complained but kept walking until he was about waist deep in the sea.

"Comic books?" John followed after Sherlock with a raised brow. "Never mind." He grabbed Sherlock's ass and gave him a small push forward. "Down," he said softly, squeezing the skin beneath his hand. "We will do what we did yesterday. If you can manage to not look like a drowning fish, you can have a reward of your choice."

Comic books? "I prefer nonfiction," Sherlock muttered. He laid chest first in the water, trying not to look like a 'drowning fish'. Whatever that meant. He wasn't entirely sure but he did try to remember what John had taught him the first time. Kick the feet. Move the arms. Not at the same time. Come on. He could do this.

John watched with an amused grin, his hand resting against Sherlock's stomach. It looked... a little better. Sort of. "Here." He pushed up on Sherlock's torso and moved into the water. "Watch. It is a whole body movement." He made sure Sherlock was watching and did several strokes before turning and coming back. "You should feel a tug in your stomach, sides and chest," he said softly, pushing Sherlock back down.

Sherlock stood back up and watched John swimming carefully. He made sure to memorize every stroke and the timing of each limb. Visual learning always worked out best for him. Or just trial and error, which was why he did so many experiments. For a moment he had forgotten he was supposed to be mimicking his husband's movements. Eventually he laid back down on the water, determined to replicate John's pattern perfectly.

John watched his husband with a soft smile and nodded. There it was. He just watched and learned. His husband was perfect. "That's... good. Great." He smiled proudly. He had taught his husband how to swim. Well, swim in place. "So, milestone. What reward would you like? Then we will see if you can swim on your own."

Sherlock smirked cockily and stood up again. "Of course it was." He leaned over and put his lips on John's. "This seems adequate to me." He said behind the kiss, as he wrapped an arm his around his husband to pull him a little closer. He ran his tongue along John's bottom lip before exploring the other mouth.

John pressed against his husband with a small gasp into his mouth, letting Sherlock control this kiss. He deserved it, of course. Managing to not look like a drowning fish was, honestly, quite the accomplishment. He shifted to nip lightly at Sherlock's bottom lip before moving a hand inside of Sherlock's suit, grabbing his ass with a small grin.

Sherlock moved his lips to John's ear and whispered. "Careful my dear doctor or swimming lessons might get interrupted again." He ran his tongue along the bottom lobe lightly before pulling away with a smirk. He ran a hand down his husband's chest, letting it trail faintly over mid section of John's suit. His smirk got bigger as he laid back down in the water.

John watched his husband's hand with heavy breaths before he moved back into the water. Of course. "Fucking tease," he whispered, not helping it that he was grinning like an idiot. "Right, so you can do it with my support. Don't... go into deeper water, swim parallel to the shore, yeah?" He plopped into the water beside his husband, pressing his face underwater and starting to swim slowly.

"You like it." Sherlock smirked and then took a moment to study John swimming, before paddling after his husband. He mirrored the movements he had memorized easily, the strokes constantly replaying in his head. As far as he could tell, he was doing fine. Swimming wasn't hard once he got the strokes down.

John resurfaced and twisted to watch his husband. Perfect. Literally, he was swimming like he had done it his entire life. "Bloody genius," he muttered, standing up and splashing at his husband with a laugh. "I hate you," he said with another laugh, flopping beside his husband and pushing him gently with his foot.

Sherlock stopped swimming when John came up next to him, opting to float on his back. "I can't help it if I am naturally good at everything. It is hard you know, being this amazing and perfect." He closed one eye against the glint of the sun, turning his head to smirk at his husband. He kicked his feet to stay afloat, his hands resting behind his head.

"Oi, hush up." John shifted and pushed his foot against Sherlock's ribs, rolling his eyes with a smirk. "I hope you get sunburned, you git," he whispered as he disappeared under the water and swam toward the deeper water. It was cool, refreshing, and he couldn't help himself. He resurfaced a few feet away from Sherlock with a small gasp of air, looking around. He swam slowly toward his husband, making sure he was splashing as big as he could.

Sherlock was content to just lay in the water like he was, his other eye closing. He could hear John coming and repositioned himself so his feet were toward his husband. When John was within range he began kicking his feet as hard as he could to splash the water into his husband's face. He smirked even though the other man couldn't see it.

"No!" John laughed and jumped into the water, grabbing Sherlock's legs with a shout. "Don't even think about it!" He shouted, crawling up Sherlock's body and pinning him to the sand beneath, pushing them up so he wouldn't drown his husband. "Clot," he whispered, grabbing one of Sherlock's hand with a proud smirk.

Sherlock pulled John close to him and snuggled into his husband once they were on the beach. This was comfortable, but he was still feeling devious. After a moment of trying to lull John into a false sense of security, he flipped them over so he could be on top of his husband. He was sitting on John's chest, hands pinning both wrists to the sand. "Now what?" He smirked down at his husband.

John grunted and looked up at his husband with a playful glare. "I was a soldier, Sherlock," he warned his partner with a small smirk. It wouldn't take much, really, to wiggle and twist and get Sherlock on to his back. Might as well let Sherlock think he was in control. Shouldn't be too hard. "Now I let you think you've won. What else could I possibly do?" He said calmly, raising an eyebrow.

Sherlock leaned down to kiss his John, sliding down his husband so his lower torso was now writhing into his husband's. He released the wrists, a hand coming to run through John's hair and the other scratched on the chest below him. He made the kiss a little more aggressive with a small growl. He hadn't planned on this but it was the only way he could think of to distract John.

John moaned softly, opening his mouth to his husband without a second thought. They had just shagged but, honestly, any touch from his husband was enough to send him over the edge. His mind was clouded and he arched into the scratches, his hands sliding under Sherlock's suit to grab his ass. What... had they been doing again? His eyebrows knitted together as he matched Sherlock's clear enthusiasm.

Sherlock moaned into the kiss, the hand scratching John's chest moved down to his husband's suit, finger slipping under the band to run teasingly on the skin. He continued to squirm into the body below him, enjoying the friction the suits were causing. He moved his lips from John's to his husband's neck where he began sucking and biting it. Weren't they supposed to be slowing things down? Oh sod it, this was feeling wonderful.

John gasped, arching into Sherlock's touch in his sensitive skin. "Fuck," he whispered. Christ, he honestly was like some teenager when Sherlock was like this with him. Not that he would ever openly admit that. His husband was excited but... he couldn't really get an erection right now. Not that he wasn't enjoying this. It was wonderful. He lifted his hips slightly, grinning when he felt Sherlock's body lift slightly.

Sherlock didn't care if he couldn't get hard right now. This was still feeling good and really he didn't have any inclination to stop it. He moved his lips back to John's, kissing his husband a little sloppily. He pressed into his husband some more, his body still writhing into the man below him anxiously. He scratched his fingers through John's scalp, his other hand moving to scratch along his husband's chest once more.

John returned the kiss with a small moan, his tongue darting into Sherlock's mouth for a quick moment before he pulled away, tilting his head to suck on his husband's neck. "Good," he whispered, gasping as some water washed up around them from a rather large wave. "God, love you," he whimpered into his husband's ear. One of Sherlock's movements shoved him up in the sand a little bit and he gripped, clawing at Sherlock's back.

Sherlock smirked, his head tilting up automatically to allow John more access. He barely noticed the water lapping at them although it did cause his body to shiver involuntarily. He continued to scratch and squirm into the man below him relentlessly. "Love you too," he finally replied. Even if they couldn't get off, he was still thoroughly enjoying this moment.

"Ah, shit," John hissed, ripping away from Sherlock's neck to whimper. His nails had gone directly over another scratch and he felt the blood. "Shit, ouch." He looked up at Sherlock sheepishly, gasping for breath as his hair stood in every direction. "Are you all right?" He whispered, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth. "S-Sorry, didn't mean to…" He took a deep breath and glanced between them.

Apparently that moment was meant to be short lived and Sherlock stopped doing everything. He rolled off John and finally realized he was cold. "Sorry, thought I was scratching where I hadn't already." He sighed and stood up, brushing himself off reflexively. He offered to help his husband. "Come on, let's get inside. I could use a cup of tea."

John glanced up at his husband sheepishly, grabbing his hand as he was pulled to his feet. "Sorry," he muttered, running his hand across the new scratch to wipe away some of the blood. "I'll make you tea." He squeezed Sherlock's hand as a blush spread across his cheeks. "Sorry," he repeated. Of course something would happen and he would mess up.

"John, it is fine. Quit apologizing." Sherlock smirked, mischief in his eyes. "It really shows off your submissive side." He walked a little ways up to where his towel was and dried off before wrapping it around him for some warmth. He moved back over to his husband, grabbing the other man's hand once more and led them up to the beach house.

John dropped his head instantly. "'M not the submissive," he muttered. Except in this relationship he was. He always was. When they entered the house a small shiver ran through him and he grabbed Sherlock's towel, pressing it against his stomach to clean up more of the blood. "Go make your own tea, oh dominant one."

Sherlock frowned at John. Had he just upset his husband? He sighed and walked to the bedroom first to get his robe. He wrapped it around himself as he walked back into the kitchen. He didn't want to risk a fight with John, so he began making the tea in silence. Except, not talking seemed to make things worse more often than not. He was certain, he would never figure out relationships.

John tossed the towel on the floor and changed into a pair of boxers and some pajama pants. After several moments of trying, and failing, to get his hair to lay flat, he walked into the kitchen. He hadn't been upset. Perhaps ... annoyed with the fact that Sherlock always shoved it in his face. He moved to stand behind his husband, burying his face in Sherlock's back. "Sorry."

Sherlock raised his eyebrows in confusion. Why was John sorry? Hadn't he been the one to make his husband upset? Yep, he would never understand the workings of a relationship as frustrating as he found that. "Uh…it is fine…" He ventured tentatively, not really sure what was going on right now. Usually understanding and figuring others out was easy for him but at this moment the entire situation eluded him.

Right. Sherlock was a bit socially inept. John giggled softly and moved to stand between his husband and the counter. "For what I said," he said softly, wrapping his arms around Sherlock's neck. "It was rude. I shouldn't be saying that to my husband. I love you." He placed a soft kiss on Sherlock's lips.

Had John been rude? Sherlock went through the brief conversations since entering the house. Was it because his husband had told him to make his own tea? It was the only thing that even remotely made sense. "I know. I love you too." When the water was ready he poured a cup. "Did you want a cup too? Maybe breakfast?"

Food didn't sound appealing but he nodded toward the kettle. "Tea would be great," he muttered, pulling away from Sherlock slowly. "Any particular thing you wanted to do today?" He asked softly. "I... wouldn't mind calling your brother and Lestrade. Saying hi to Amy," he added softly.

Sherlock poured a cup for John and added sugar to it, before offering the cup to his husband. "We can do that, if you want. I didn't bring my cell phone, but I know you did." He picked up his own cup and began sipping the hot contents slowly. He leaned with his back against the counter so he could face John.

John took the cup and brought it to his lips, studying his husband as he took a sip. Sherlock's words made him tense slightly and his first instinct was to ask what he had meant. Of course John brought his mobile, what was his husband getting at? He tensed at his own thoughts and moved so he was sitting on the counter, reaching his legs out to pull Sherlock to him. He wrapped his legs around Sherlock's waist and pressed their foreheads together. No fighting. "I love you," he said as he sat back, yanked at Sherlock with his legs, and took another sip from his mug.

Sherlock watched John, studying him, with a frown. Had he said something wrong again? He was surprised when his husband pulled him forward. "I love you too." With their heads pressed together he gave John's nose a quick kiss. He placed his mug down on the counter behind his husband. His arms wrapped around John's waist, drawing him closer to the other man still.

The most wonderful feeling in the world had to be when Sherlock had his arms around him, had him pulled close. John could forget the little comment that had suddenly made his blood boil. This was his husband. He set his own mug down and lightly wrapped his arms around Sherlock's neck. He curled his toes into Sherlock's back with a soft smile. "What were you like in at Uni?" He asked softly, raising a curious brow in his husband's direction.

Sherlock found it puzzling that John could go from being tensed to relaxed in seemingly no time at all. Or maybe his husband was just trying to change the subject. He wasn't entirely sure. He shrugged at the question. "I don't know. About the same when you first met me, I suppose. Why?"

"Because I find myself wanting to know everything about you," John whispered with a small blush as one hand bent to play with the hair at the nape of Sherlock's neck. "What were you like in school? Before Uni? You know, any clubs? Sports?" He placed a soft kiss on his husband's lips. There, that was a good distraction.

Sherlock shook his head. "No on both counts. I only passed school because it was expected of me. It was very boring for me and honestly didn't learn anything I didn't know already. Dad wanted me to skip grades and graduate early but Mum wanted me to be normal." He shrugged and muttered, "Look how well that turned out..." He sighed and pulled away from John, grabbing his cup of tea. He didn't drink it, but instead stared into the mug with a pout.

No. Pulling away was not what John wanted. He reached forward and grabbed the mug from his husband's hands. His legs pulled Sherlock forward again and he gave his husband a soft kiss. "You are perfect," he whispered against Sherlock's lips. "I would have loved to see you in school. In your private school uniform." He grinned.

"I hated school," Sherlock grumbled miserably. Really he hated the whole process of growing up. Usually he found comfort from being close to his husband but right now he just wanted to be alone. "John, stop it." He pulled away again, certain a fight was going to start any second. He was feeling rather stressed. Maybe a cigarette would help. He had brought a pack, just in case.

John narrowed his eyes and studied his husband. "Fine." He slid off the counter and gave a sharp laugh. "I was just trying to help. Fine." He looked around the kitchen before heading toward the bedroom and slamming the door shut. Without a second thought he headed toward the beach, plopping down outside right where the tide was coming in. Well, this was wonderful.

Well, that could have gone better. Sherlock had been trying to work on the whole communication thing and he was struggling with it. Obviously it had blown up in his face. He decided to take a hot shower, cleaned up quickly, and then let the water just beat down on his tense muscles for a long while. He didn't have anything else planned and the spray felt good.

John stayed outside for a long time, standing up when he felt a sheen of sweat over his skin. Too hot. Probably not a good idea since he was already upset. He moved into the small beach house and shot a glare toward the bathroom. Showering? He had just pushed John away and he was showering? "Fucking git," he muttered as he flopped on to their bed. He spread himself out on the massive mattress, laying on his stomach as he tried to cool off. So much for not fighting.

Sherlock didn't know how long he stayed in the shower, but by the time he got out his fingers and toes were wrinkled. He got out, dried off and dropped the towel to the ground as he walked into the bedroom. Oh. He hadn't expected John to be in here. "You are still made at me," he observed quietly. He didn't know what else to say, so he began getting dressed in silence. Maybe if he wore the outfit his husband picked out for him, it would help smooth things over.

John rolled his eyes and shoved his face farther into the nearest pillow. "Yeah," he stated simply. "Good deduction." He slammed his eyes shut. He didn't care if he was acting like a child. Sherlock had pushed him away, had treated him like nothing more than a nuisance, when he'd just been curious. Probably should have expected that, really. "You know, I was just trying to start conversa-" He rolled over, sat up, and froze. That was the outfit that he had picked out.

Sherlock was about to reply when he noticed John's look. He wasn't sure if it was good or bad, it was difficult to tell right now. He was quiet awhile longer, trying to gather his thoughts. "I know you were just trying to make conversation John. My childhood was…difficult…it isn't something I really like talking about. You asked so I told you…I was trying to work on communication." He sighed and sat down on the bed.

"You told me and then pulled away from me trying to comfort you," John replied softly, shifting to sit closer to his husband. "I am just so curious about you. I can't help it." He shrugged. Maybe he should have just accepted the fact that he would never know about Sherlock's past. That both of them would be content to know little to nothing about the other's past before they met. "I think we are doomed to a life of horrid communication and fights," he half-joked.

"I know…I didn't have any comfort then…it was strange to have it now…" Sherlock trailed off with a shrug. He frowned at the last thing John said. He had been trying, in his own way maybe but it seemed him trying turned out worse than not attempting at all. He was unsure what to say or do now, so he reached out a hand slowly to take his husband's.

The moment he felt Sherlock's hand he squeezed it. Change the subject. "You look really good in those jeans," he whispered with a lop-sided smile. He leaned forward and gently met his husband's lips, sucking at his lower lip. "I love you, you insufferable git," he whispered against Sherlock's lips.

Sherlock gave a faint smile, but it got bigger when he felt John's lips on his. He returned it, leaning into his husband. He put his arms around John. "I love you too." He leaned into his husband, suddenly desiring close contact despite the fact just moments ago he had pushed John away.

John fell to his back, bringing Sherlock with him as he laughed. "Oh, gosh," he said with a playful groan. "So heavy. You are going to crush me!" He rolled slightly so they were both on their sides and he couldn't help the large grin that showed his teeth. "Sherlock," he said softly, placing a soft kiss on his husband's nose. What now? He couldn't shag his husband but being close was nice. Except in those jeans. He wanted to rip them off of Sherlock and ravish his husband.

"Just want to hold onto you," Sherlock admitted. He snuggled into John some more, tightening the hug a bit. He leaned his forehead into his husband's shoulder. He nipped lightly into John's skin, nibbling on spot for a moment before moving on to another place. He pressed his body into his partner's. He just wanted their bodies to be as close together as possible.

John relaxed into Sherlock's arms, letting his husband do what he wanted as he let out soft sighs at each little nibble. He would never stop Sherlock from just being close, from loving him like this. Sure, their communications skills weren't exactly perfect but they knew how to act like a married couple. Sherlock constantly wanted to be close to him. He was alright with that. "Just want to be held by you," he replied softly.