Author's Note:
In my opinion everything that happens in this chapter is sheer perfection.
Nancy had been waiting by the phone for the call expectantly. When it rang and the caller ID indicated a number out of Italy she answered the phone immediately. "John?" Last she knew her youngest son had reverted back to childhood. She was worried and it was expressed in her tone of voice.
John smiled. "Hi Mum." He leaned against the counter of the nurses' station. "Sherlock's good, back to himself." He glanced into the room through the slightly open door. "Bit of a headache and a concussion but he is good. Sleeping right now. Are you alright?" He knew that his mother-in-law had been worried and he wanted to do anything he could to make sure she was doing better.
Relief flooded Nancy immediately. "Good. I am glad." She had finally been finding closure on her husband's death and then this happened. Would she be able to not worry about Sherlock for even a little while? "Amy is doing well. She can almost support her head now. When you two get back, she probably will be able to. You are going to stay aren't you? You should."
Amy. John's daughter. He grinned like an idiot. "She can? Oh, goodness." He laughed a bit and closed his eyes. She was growing up faster than he thought. "She is not keeping you up with her screeching? I am afraid she's a bit loud. Not sure who she got that from." He looked around the hospital and cleared his throat. Stay. God, if they stayed he risked something else happening. "I don't know. Sherlock wants to but I am worried about him. I want to take care of him before we...do anything again."
"She gets a little fussy from time to time, but we take turns trying to put her down. Me, Mycroft and Greg. Even Mrs. Hudson comes over from time to time to help." Nancy smiled even though John wasn't there to see it. "Well, you two should talk about it." She couldn't help but laugh. "Knowing you two, you probably already have. Well, if what Mycroft said about you two being in the hospital in Egypt holds any water that is."
John turned a deep shade of red at Nancy's comment. Oh joy. She knew. "I...yes- I mean no." He took a deep breath and shook his head. "W-We have talked, I mean. I mean... we have... Oh, God." He buried his face in his hand and groaned. "Nancy, I'm sorry. Sorry." He laughed nervously. This wasn't going very well. Nancy probably hated him now. Or probably not because the Holmes seemed to be a bit open about their sexual experiences.
Nancy couldn't help but laugh loudly as John stumbled over his words. "So you have." She beamed proudly. "Well then, there is no reason for you not to stay. Have you tried the flavored lubrication I had left? What about the book I gave Sherlock, is he reading it? Does he like it?" She was anxious to hear all about how their honeymoon was going.
Were they really talking about this right now? John cleared his throat and took a deep breath. "Um. T-The flavored lube." He blushed as a nurse walked by, giving him an odd look. "Right. Yes. Once. N-Not for... that, but we did use it. Grape," he muttered. Should he lie to her about the book? He hesitated before continuing. "Um, he tried the book but didn't e-enjoy it. He did try to tie me to the mast, though." Jesus, did he just say that?
"Good! You boys are enjoying yourselves then. If you stay, maybe Sherlock will get the chance to do that." Nancy frowned a bit when she heard about the book. "Oh well, I guess it isn't for everybody. I thought maybe he would like it, considering all the escapades you two like to do. It reminds me of Siger and I when we were young and first married."
Okay. There had to be a line somewhere and thinking about his mother-in-law and Siger was certainly that line. That made John shift nervously on his feet. She knew about their sexual escapades... How in the world did she find out? He was fairly sure Sherlock wasn't blabbing to her about it. Might as well go along with it. "Er, yes. Well..." He took a deep breath. "Your son is rather creative, Nancy. I c-can assure you that he has had me in some wonderful positions... Oh, God, I am sorry. I'm so sorry."
Nancy erupted into laughter once more, rather delighted with this conversation. "No need to apologize John. You are fine dear. I'm glad you two make each other happy. It is good you are sexually compatible. Obviously shagging isn't the most important part of a relationship but if you two didn't fit intimately you probably wouldn't last long."
John figured that at some point he would have had this relationship with his Mum and that Nancy never really got to have it with Sherlock. They were an oddly perfect match at the moment. "We have that department covered, I assure you," he mumbled into the phone with a small smile. "I have... got a question, though..." He looked around to make sure no nurses were in proximity to hear his question. "Why flavored lube, Mum?"
"Oh um." Nancy cleared her throat and looked around the sitting room to make sure she was alone, not realizing she had just mirrored John's actions. "It was Mycroft's suggestion. Apparently it works well for him and Greg. He thought you two might like it as well. Ssshhh, he didn't want you to know though. It will be our secret, okay?"
Oh God. John turned away from the phone a moment and tried to control himself. "Right. Okay." He took a deep breath and pressed the phone against his ear again. "Well, Sherlock and I decided mutually to not use it for...certain things. But I think Sherlock likes it." He smiled the best he could, trying to push the blush off of his cheeks. It was odd but he was feeling...comfortable. "We have tried... condoms. Ribbed," he muttered. Shit, this was a bad idea. "Sorry," he muttered.
"Well good for you. You want to make sure you both are on the same page before you try something you haven't done before." Nancy's eyebrows shot up in surprise at John's last comment. "Sweetie, quit apologizing. It is fine, you hear? They are wonderful, aren't they? Siger didn't like using condoms but every once in awhile I could talk him into it."
John winced. Only fair, he reminded himself. Nancy was hearing about his sex life. Be fair. "Nancy, it was amazing," he admitted eagerly. "I don't think Sherlock likes them so much but, God." He leaned against the counter and laughed weakly. He was having this conversation with Nancy. Sherlock was going to kill him when he found out, wasn't he? "Did you ever talk to Sherlock about...our sex life?"
"No. Sherlock said you were shy about that kind of thing and he didn't want to upset you. So, I am kind of surprised we are having this conversation." Nancy paused; she didn't want to say it'd been Mycroft. At the time she was certain her eldest son was just trying to get his younger sibling in trouble. Those two were constantly competing for her love and attention. Even more so with Siger gone. "Siger had the sex talk with Sherlock when he was young, but he had said that Sherlock wasn't interested at all."
John nodded slightly and lowered his head, listening to Nancy for a moment. "I consider you my Mum, really," he admitted with a bit of a shrug. "I'm sure I would have had the conversation with her, y'know? So... here I am with you." He shifted on his feet. God, had he ruined the entire thing? Move on. "Sherlock wasn't really interested in sex until I gave him a hand job on the couch." He froze and let his eyes go wide. "I... shouldn't have told you that."
Nancy smiled. "You are good boy John. You are just like a son to me." Her smile broadened. "At least you didn't apologize," she playfully admonished. "Well, I guess he just needed the right person to make him change his mind." She was quiet for a thoughtful moment. "He was always such a sad child, brilliant, but sad. You brought happiness to his life, meaning. Thank you."
John took a deep breath and listened to Nancy with a modest blush. "Mum, he saved my life, too," he whispered, his voice breaking. Don't cry. Don't be stupid. "He...saved me," he repeated softly. A nurse brushed by him and nodded toward the room. Right, Sherlock. His husband. "Mum, I have got to go and wake Sherlock up. Thank you," he said with a grin, hoping she could hear it. "Love you." He ended the call and moved into the room. It had only been half an hour but the nurse wanted to check on him. "Hey, Sherlock." He crouched slightly and ran a hand through Sherlock's hair. "Wake up a bit."
Nancy smiled as she hung up the phone. That had been a good conversation. She and John had been able to talk to each other easily since day one. It was nice and a relief. She loved her sons but sometimes they weren't very good at just making conversation.
Sherlock groaned. "Don't want to," he whined and turned away from John. "Tired," he complained some more.
The doctor came in to inform John the MRI had turned out negative and that there didn't appear to be any kind of damage to Sherlock's brain, before excusing himself quietly and leaving the room.
That was good news. Excellent in fact. He turned his attention back to his husband. "Sherlock, I just want to check your vitals." John moved to lift Sherlock up, bending him at the waist and shifting to sit behind him. "What is your husband's name?" He whispered into Sherlock's ear as he settled his husband against his chest and grabbed his wrist to check his pulse.
"Don't ask stupid question's John, you are my husband." Sherlock sighed and sat up slowly. He was awake now and his head was still pounding. Was it possible it hurt more than before? Probably, since he had been refusing pain medication. Had he really slept for two hours already? It didn't feel like it.
Yep, that was definitely Sherlock. "It has been half an hour. You can go back to sleep." He wrapped his arms around his husband and pulled him back slowly so he would rest against his chest. "Mum wants you to sleep," he whispered in Sherlock's ear. He lifted his hands to rub circles against his husband's temples.
"I am up now," Sherlock grumbled crossly. He wasn't really mad at John for waking him up; he was just feeling rather miserable at the moment. "Shit. I really want drugs right now," he admitted quietly. "No. Don't give them to me. I will be fine by tomorrow I'm sure. Once this damn pain ebbs a little."
"I hadn't planned on giving you anything," John whispered into Sherlock's ear. Maybe he should try to distract his husband? "Your Mum and I discussed our sex life," he said softly with a grin. "In detail." His fingers continued to massage Sherlock's temples. God, something needed to work. Seeing his husband in pain was horrible.
Sherlock closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the feeling of John rubbing his head. It was calming and relaxing. "Really?" His eyes opened and he tilted his head to look up at his husband with raised eyebrows. "You? Mr. Shy John Watson, had a conversation about our sex life with my mother?" His lips twitched into a bemused smirk. "How did that work out for you?"
"It was quite possibly the most embarrassing moment of my life," John replied with a laugh. "I learned that she also enjoys ribbed condoms and that she used to force your dad to wear them." He applied a little more pressure to Sherlock's temples. It seemed like this was providing quite the distraction. "She also thinks you should tie me to the mast. Oh, and the flavored lube idea came from Greg and your brother."
Sherlock smirked again and let his eyes close once more. "Sounds like quite the conversation," he muttered, as he snuggled his head deeper into John's chest. "Going to sleep some more." He brought up a hand and lazily grabbed one of his husband's, squeezed it, and then let his hand drop back down to his side as drifted back into sleep.
John smiled softly and watched Sherlock. At this rate he wasn't going to sleep for the rest of their honeymoon. He slowly let his hands drop to wrap lightly around his husband's torso. Slightly sitting up. Sherlock must have been very tired. He placed a soft kiss on top of his husband's head before he started to hum to him, trying to keep his husband asleep.
Sherlock only slept for a little over an hour. His head still hurt but it didn't appear to be pounding like it had been before. He was still curled into a John. Good. That was always nice. He shifted so his head now rested on his husband's shoulder. "I know you are worried about me, but we should try to stay. I still need to tie you to a mast, wouldn't want to disappoint my mother now would we?" He smirked up at John.
John laughed softly and looked down at Sherlock. Less pain, making jokes. Good. "God, your Mum," he whispered with a blush, leaning his head down to give his husband a soft kiss. "I think if we went home I would never hear the end of it. Sherlock, she told me about her and your Dad." He looked petrified at the thought, his blush spread to the tips of his ears.
"I walked in on them once when I was a kid. I didn't understand what was going on then or even until much later actually. Ended up reading about it in one of those sex books I read." Sherlock smirked into John's chest. As much as he enjoyed spending time with his husband like this, he didn't like that it was in a hospital. "Do I get to leave soon by chance? I know you said not until tomorrow but, I'm fine now. Really."
John looked down at Sherlock with a laugh. Despite his husband's claims that he didn't have a normal childhood, it seemed that he did experience what most children did at some point in their life. That horrifying moment of catching their parents. He silently thanked God that it was Harry who found them. "I am sure we could. I'm going to make you wait in our bed, though. At least until tomorrow morning."
"It will be better than staying here." Sherlock didn't want to stay at the hospital any longer than he had to. He sat up and took the I-V out with a slight wince. "See? I'm fine. Yanking out I-V's out all over again." He smirked over at John and stood up. He wasn't dizzy at least but he was still a little unsteady on his feet.
"Sherlock." John studied his husband intently before tugging his bottom lip between his teeth. "Should have let me do that." He slid off of the bed and moved behind Sherlock to steady him. "Definitely bed rest for the rest of the day," he whispered with a smile. "I will make you some tea and even lay with you." He placed a kiss between Sherlock's shoulder blades, not caring that the man was wearing a shirt.
Sherlock smirked a bit. "Just like old times." It had been meant as a joke, although a poor one, but his tone of voice held no humor. Nothing could seem to go right, not even their honeymoon. He didn't protest the help John offered, instead he slumped into him slightly as he walked out of the room. They paused to fill out some paper work, and he ignored the doctor trying to convince him to stay. He scribbled his signature and then kept going.
"Calm down. Sherlock, things happen." John moved past the nurses station and held his husband with ease. "We will get you to feeling better. Besides, the rest might help both of us." Which it would. They had been shagging non-stop so a break would help them. Granted, he might toss off in the shower once just because Sherlock wouldn't be ready to go until sometime tomorrow afternoon. "Love you."
"Yeah, but they have a nasty habit of happening to us a lot." Sherlock sighed with a slight shrug. It wasn't a surprise that a black car was waiting for them when they walked outside. He shook his head a bit and climbed into the car. He nestled into John's shoulder once they were both situated.
"We run around London. A lot is bound to help with us." John wrapped an arm around Sherlock's shoulder protectively. Sherlock did have a point, though. A lot of things did happen to them. "This was just an odd little accident. It could have happened to anybody else with an attractive husband," he said with a smirk.
Sherlock couldn't help the small smirk that crossed his lips. "Well, you do distract me quite easily my dear doctor." Since he had already slept, he wouldn't sleep again for the day so he wasn't sure what he would do to help pass the time. Maybe it will just be another one of those days where he and John snuggled in bed. That would be nice.
John grinned happily. Hearing Sherlock tell him that he was a distraction always made his heart beat a little faster. "I am usually glad that I'm a distraction but now I might have to hide from you when you are doing something important," he whispered into Sherlock's ear as his hand rubbed his husband's upper arm soothingly. "When we get home we will get you into some pajamas and have you relax in bed. I'll make you tea and even lay in bed with you, if you would like."
"Hmmm," Sherlock mused out loud and then fell silent. He knocked on the divider and the tinted window rolled down. He spoke to the man in Italian briefly and then handed over some money. The tinted window went back up. "Short detour before we get back to the beach house." He gave John a grin.
"What?" John watched the exchange of money and studied his husband nervously. "Sherlock, what are you doing?" He couldn't help the grin that was tugging at his lips because, really, anything Sherlock did was always adorable. Unless they were going somewhere like a bloody museum. "Sherlock." He leaned forward with a soft chuckle, gently meeting his husband's lips. "Tell me."
Sherlock just smirked at John for awhile. "It is a surprise. You aren't the only one who can do that, you know." He reached over and took his husband's hand. "When the car stops, just wait. I am having the driver stop off somewhere first real quick and then we will be on our way to the beach house all right?"
God, he felt like a giddy little boy waiting to open his presents on Christmas. "Sherlock," he said with a laugh, licking his lips. This romantic side was rare and to many others, not even romantic. Coming from Sherlock, though, made it absolutely adorable. "So I am going to wait in the car?" He rolled his eyes playfully. "Do I get a hint?"
"No hint. You will soon enough. If it makes you feel better, I will be sitting here with you when the car stops. In fact, so you can't cheat and look out the window I am having him park a few blocks away and walking." Sherlock smirked at John once more. The vehicle came to a stop. "It will be about ten, maybe fifteen minutes until he comes back. When we get back to the beach house, you go inside first and I will be in after you." He was feeling rather pleased with himself right now.
John relaxed into his seat somewhat childishly, narrowing his eyes. "I even gave you a hint before I shagged you in my uniform," he mumbled as he squeezed his husband's hand. This was out of the blue, unexpected. He, honestly, had no idea what to think. "Oh, you romantic sod, you." He leaned over with a large grin and gave his husband a soft kiss, shifting to throw a leg over Sherlock and straddle his lap.
Romantic? Sherlock wasn't sure what he had planned was 'romantic' and now he was suddenly worried he was going to disappoint John with his surprise. Shit, he couldn't even do a surprise right. His thoughts were interrupted immediately when his husband was straddling him. He returned the kiss, arms wrapping around John in a hug. He continued kissing his husband, breathing loudly through his nose like he often did when he didn't want to break the contact.
There it was. The one thing that Sherlock did that really turned him on. The moment John heard his husband exhale from his nose like that during a kiss, he lost control. That meant Sherlock wanted to stay close to him, to not pull away. His hips pressed forward against Sherlock's stomach lightly despite the fact that he knew he couldn't get an erection. God, he loved his husband. He did the same, inhaling deeply through his nose and exhaling loudly so he wouldn't have to pull away.
Sherlock whimpered into the kiss when John pressed into him. He pressed back, and eventually he had to break the kiss so he could breathe properly. He could only go so long with breathing through his nose like that. He felt the car start moving and he gave his husband a grin. He moved a hand up to run through John's hair lightly. "I love you," he whispered as his grin turned into a small, soft smile.
"I love you, too," John replied as his eyes slipped close at the feel of Sherlock's hand in his hair. How was it that the back of a car was so utterly relaxing? Then again, it seemed like anywhere could be relaxing if he had Sherlock with him. "This surprise of yours is driving me mad," he admitted softly as he cracked one eye open to study his husband. "Why do I have to go back inside first?"
"It isn't that good, you will probably be disappointed." Sherlock was having doubts about his surprise now. Doubt wasn't something he usually felt and the hated the sensation it gave him inside. He was just trying to fix what he had messed up by crashing the yacht. "You don't have to I guess…" He trailed off with a sigh; yep he had definitely ruined this.
John tensed and studied his husband. "I am sure I will love it," he whispered as the car came to a stop. "I'll be inside. Join me when everything is ready." He gently met Sherlock's lips before sliding to the door and getting out. He bent down before he shut the door. "It will be wonderful." He winked at Sherlock before shutting the door and walking into the beach house.
Sherlock got out of the car and moved to the front. He opened the passenger's side door and pulled out a large pizza box and an expensive, fine red Italian wine. They had been on the way to go eat a pizzeria, they hadn't made it there. So, he had brought it to them as best he could. He had even remembered what his husband had wanted on it: black olives, pepperoni, onions and mushrooms. He thanked the driver and told the man to keep the change. He took a deep breath and walked into the beach house. "John Watson, your party is waiting for you. Dinner for two." He called out, a small smirk on his lips.
That was it. If anybody tried to tell John that Sherlock wasn't romantic then he would literally punch them in the face. John turned slowly and grinned, laughing softly. "Oh, that smells wonderful," he whispered as he moved forward, bending to avoid the pizza box and gently meet his husband's lips. "I love you," he said proudly as he grabbed the box and set it on the dining table. "I will get the plates ready if you get the wine ready." He moved, paused, and turned to his husband. "I mean, if you are hungry, that is."
Sherlock smiled smugly as he gauged John's reaction. "It is good then?" He placed the pizza on the table and then walked into the kitchen to get wine glasses and a cork screw. "Yes, I am rather hungry believe it or not. I will just blame it on the concussion." He smirked a bit as he popped the cork just like his father had taught him. He had a wine glass in his other hand and he poured the red liquid in it. He dispensed the wine into a second glass and then carried the glasses and bottle back to the table.
"Yes. Perfect." John grinned and took out a large slice, shoving it into his mouth and taking a large bite. Perfect. This was perfect. "Oh, God," he groaned and let his head fall back, chewing slowly as he enjoyed the pizza. "That is it. We are getting Amy and moving down here and living off of pizza." He swallowed his bite and moved to kiss his husband again, gently taking his wine glass away as he did. "Bloody fantastic," he muttered as he took a sip from the wine and groaned again. "Perfect dinner."
Sherlock beamed proudly and reached over to grab a slice of pizza. "That would be one hell of a commute." He smirked at John as he returned the kiss. He was quiet for a thoughtful moment. "Is it…uh...romantic?" He looked at his husband questioningly, eye brows slightly raised. He couldn't imagine why pizza and wine would be romantic but really he didn't grasp the meaning very well but he was trying to understand it.
John froze, his slice of pizza half way to his mouth as he laughed. "Yeah, of course it is," he replied with a nod. "You smashed your head, went to the hospital, and before going home you made sure to stop and buy pizza because that was what I had suggested for dinner. That is pretty romantic." He shrugged and took another large bite of pizza and took another sip of wine. "If I could, I'd shag you on this table after I ate the pizza."
Sherlock nodded. That was good, right? Ordinary people liked romantic things; although he wasn't sure he entirely understood the concept behind it yet. He finally took a bite of the pizza, and swallowed it down with a sip of the red wine. "I am glad you like it." He gave John a smile before taking another bite of food.
"Mmm," John finished his slice of pizza in two more large bites. Who knew Sherlock was so romantic? Granted, he probably didn't know he had done something so wonderful but that was what made him adorable. "Eat up," he muttered, downing his glass of wine. "We will get you settled into bed after that." He winked and moved to pour himself a second glass of wine.
Sherlock finished off the first slice and decided to grab a second one, although it was a smaller piece. His wine glass was still half full. After he finished off both, he would be ready to go to the bedroom. "We could snuggle in bed, all tangled up in each other like we did yesterday for over half a day." He looked up to John with a smirk.
Two slices. John smiled softly and finished his second glass of wine. "I wouldn't mind being tangled up with you at all," he said as he brushed past him with a wink. He started unbuttoning his shirt as he entered their bedroom, tossing it aside as he started to toe off his shoes. "You owe me a story," he shouted over his shoulder as he finally flopped on to their bed.
Sherlock shut the lid on the box but left it on the table. He also re-corked the wine before following after John into the bedroom. Screw pajamas. He preferred no clothes and he undressed completely. He laid down next to his husband, snuggling into the other man's shoulder. "A story? Give me a minute to think of something?"
"Oi, not fair," John whispered with a laugh as he wrapped an arm around his husband. "I can't properly tangle with you now," he muttered. If he got naked again he might end up tossing off in the shower because, really, it wasn't exactly safe to shag Sherlock while he had a concussion. Despite his thoughts he reached down to undo his jeans, pushing them off with his underwear and kicking them off the bed. "There, you have had a minute and now I am naked. Story time."
Sherlock couldn't help but smirk at John's comment. Story. Okay, he could do this. Apparently he had done well the last time, although he had felt it had run too long and the ending wasn't very strong. A sequel to his previous story? Sure why not. "As it turns out, the wizard, knight, orphan and wizard's tower hadn't actually blinked out of existence. They had been teleported to a different plane of existence. It wasn't a pleasant place. It was dark and desolate. Sun didn't shine there, it was perpetually night. The three knew they would have to work together if they wanted to leave this place and return to their own kingdom. The wizard said he could prepare a spell to get them back home, but he would need components. It was the job of the knight and orphan to go find them. The knight gave the boy a steel dagger, since the orphan wasn't strong enough to wield a proper sword. The two faced many perils together but they always came out on top. When they had all the ingredients they went back to the wizard's keep. The sorcerer had double crossed the knight and orphan. The tower and wizard were gone. They were now trapped in that plane of existence and they had to making a living there, but they never stopped trying to find a way home."
"I literally hate you," John whispered with a grin, taking a deep breath as he tried to push back sleep. "I don't, really. I love you more than you ever thought I would. I just hate how you wonderfully tell stories and I am rubbish at it," he was mumbling. Carrying on about nothing. Maybe laying in bed with Sherlock wasn't the best idea because at this rate he was going to fall asleep and leave his husband awake with a concussion. "I have got the feeling that you are the knight and I'm the orphan," he whispered as his eyes slipped closed.
Sherlock smirked. "Really? I had never really thought about it to be honest," he commented on the part about him being the knight and John being the orphan. He glanced up at his husband, smiled and gave him a small kiss on the cheek. "Sleep if you need to my dear doctor. Just no nightmares for you tonight."
Sleep. "M'kay," John whispered with a weak smile. "Won't sleep for too long," he added before he finally relaxed. It seemed that tonight wasn't a good one though. The moment he started to dream it was nothing but gun firing and yelling, blood and dirt. Shit. No. No. He ripped away from Sherlock as he sat up, panting and whimpering as he tried to calm himself down. Vacation. Honeymoon. But all he could smell was burning flesh and hear screaming.