Author's Note:
I hope you all are enjoying the story still. This is just a chapter where John and Sherlock talk.
Shit. John hadn't had any nightmares since the honeymoon had started and his husband waking up roughly startled Sherlock. He reached out tentatively and took his partner's hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Hey, it is okay. Everything is fine. You are safe. I am right here." He never really knew what to say or do when John woke up from a nightmare, but he always tried his best to comfort his husband.
John jumped slightly at Sherlock's touch, a small shout echoing through the room, before he heard Sherlock's voice. Safe. He licked his lips and slammed his eyes shut, curling his legs against his chest and burying his face in his arms. That one hadn't been pleasant at all and it was lingering. "S-Sorry," he whispered, not daring to turn and face his husband. He was crying, he could feel it, and he didn't want to ruin Sherlock's night.
"It is fine. Do you want to talk about this one?" Sherlock wrapped his arms around John and drew his husband's back into his chest. He reached up to run a hand soothingly through his partner's hair. He kissed the back of John's neck gently. He tried to think of suggestion to help his husband forget the dream but came up empty.
John relaxed instantly against Sherlock, staying quiet for a long moment before taking a deep breath. "It was real," he muttered after he had braced himself. "We had an American chopper go down right outside of Kandahar a-and." Calm down. Don't worry. Deep breaths. "One soldier had caught on fire and when I got to him his legs were gone and he was burned but crying out for me." By name, he remembered. Calling out for John Watson. "And I tried to save him but I couldn't and I got wasted that night because all I could smell was burnt flesh and hear him crying out for me."
Sherlock never really knew what to say on the rare occasions John did talk about the nightmares. Just be there, he told himself mentally. He hugged his husband closer to him, placing small kisses up and down John's neck and shoulder blades. "It wasn't your fault, John. You tried to get to him as quickly as you could. You did everything you could and I know you don't feel like that was enough but it was. He didn't die alone, which would be far scarier than dying without someone there to at least hold your hand." Wow. Where had that come from? Sometimes he surprised himself.
In that exact moment John remembered why he proposed to Sherlock in the first place. He waited for a pause in the soft, comforting kisses to look up. His eyes were red, tears streaked down his cheeks, but he looked at his husband with the biggest smile. "Yeah," he whispered softly. He had never thought about it like that. The soldier had died holding his hand. "Yeah," he repeated softly, nodding slightly and dropping his head again. Well, he felt a bit better after that.
Sherlock smiled gently when John turned to look at him. Good. He had done well. He hadn't been sure if those words would help at all but it had seemed like the right thing to say at the time. As long as he didn't over think it, he always seemed to do fine in moments where he felt extremely under qualified to be in any kind of relationship. "I love you." He could never go wrong saying those words to his husband.
John hummed slightly against his husband's chest. "Love you, too," he replied softly as he lifted his head again. Tea. That would make things better, wouldn't it? "Do you want some tea?" He asked softly, placing a kiss on Sherlock's cheek. There was no way he was going to be able to get back to sleep and he had accepted that. "Can suck you off for being such a wonderful husband," he added with a smirk.
Sherlock nodded. "Tea sounds lovely. I will make it for you, my dear doctor." He released John slowly and sat up. "You can try, not sure much would get accomplished though." He got up off the bed and then moved to the kitchen. He started the kettle and while he waited for it to boil he got out cups and tea bags.
Well, he had picked the perfect husband. John had planned on making it himself but Sherlock standing in the kitchen certainly made things a bit more...interesting? He grinned and slid out of bed, approaching his husband with a mischievous grin. "Sherlock," he whispered as he moved slowly to his knees, his hand moving to instantly grab and tug at Sherlock's penis.
Sherlock turned and was about to ask what John wanted but all that came out was a moan. Oh. He put the palm of his hands on the edge of the counter for support. He hadn't expected this but it was feeling wonderful. Now, if only he could get an erection. After having shagged in the hospital and on the yacht, he wasn't sure he would be able to get there.
Good. Moaning already. John grinned and let his tongue dart out to lick at the tip of Sherlock's cock, his eyes up and locked on his husband's face. "C'mon, I know you can," he whispered before taking as much of Sherlock into his mouth as he could. He gagged slightly but pulled back slowly, his hands moving to pin Sherlock's hips against the cabinets as he started bobbing his head slowly.
God, that felt good. He moaned, his grip tightening on the counter. As much as he was enjoying the blow job he still wasn't getting hard. "I don't think I can, I am sorry." He squirmed, thrusting up a bit into his husband's mouth with another moan. He forced himself still, frustrated at not being able to get an erection despite John sucking on his cock.
John pulled away slowly, inhaling loudly. "It is fine," he said with a smile. "I owe you, then. One blow job in the kitchen." He stood slowly and placed a kiss at the top of the scar running down his husband's chest. "The kettle is boiling, by the way," he stated with a grin, looking up at Sherlock with a smug grin. Sometimes it was nice to have a bit of power.
Sherlock's knees almost buckled out from under him when John moved away. He gave his husband a smirk. "I owe you flavored lube, tied to the mast, a shagging in the shower and a bunch of other things that I can't focus on right now because I am a bit distracted right now." Oh the tea. He had forgotten about that completely until John had reminded him about it.
John smiled softly at his husband and shook his head. "You don't owe me anything," he whispered as he rested against his husband, ignoring the kettle. "Being with you is enough." He grinned and placed another soft kiss at the hallow of his husband's neck. "Don't you ever think you owe me anything, Sherlock."
Sherlock couldn't help but smirk. "Fine, I don't owe you anything but we are still going to do all that, shagging everywhere in this house and break everything before we leave. Because it will be fun." The smirk got bigger as he tilted his head up so John could have better access to his neck, his arms wrapping around his husband in a hug. Tea didn't seem important right now.
John smirked against Sherlock's neck. "When your Mum comes out here for a vacation and finds the broken headboard she is going to kill us," he whispered as he ran his tongue up the tendon of his husband's neck. This was good, being wrapped in Sherlock's arms and giving him the attention he deserved. It was more helpful than tea. "I love you," he said as he pressed closer to Sherlock.
"The couch is also one of those pull out beds, she can sleep on that. Payback for making Mycroft and I share a bed on holiday." Sherlock lifted his head as much as he could, to help maximize the space John could reach. He was really wishing he could get hard right about now. His husband's mouth on his neck was glorious. "Love you too," he replied with a small whimper of desire.
So this was possibly working. Sherlock was squirming, whimpering...John had to be getting somewhere. But they were both naked and it was obvious his husband wasn't getting hard. "Aren't you supposed to be on bed rest?" He whispered into Sherlock's neck with a smile. "Don't need you passing out."
"Screw bed rest, want you." Except Sherlock still wasn't getting an erection. At this rate he was going to drive himself mad with sexual frustration. He pulled John closer to him, fingers scratching along his husband's back lightly. He tilted his head back down and began met John's lips, deepening the kiss with a bit of aggression and desperation.
John whimpered into the kiss, surprised by the power Sherlock was using. God, his husband was desperate and he loved it. Despite Sherlock's clear motivation, he knew that he wasn't getting a hard on at all. "Can only suck you off," he said against his husband's lips. He had been too busy the entire day and now it was just about Sherlock.
Even with his best efforts, Sherlock still wasn't getting hard. He sighed in resignation, and broke the kiss. The kettle was still blowing. "Shit, sorry." He had wanted to make it happen but he just couldn't get there. He leaned over and moved the kettle off the hot coils on the stove, if only to stop the noise. "Still want the tea?" Distraction, something to get his mind off wanting to shag John and the frustration of not being able to.
Calm. Deep breaths. John looked down at his husband with a slight small, nodding. "Tea would be lovely," he said as he forced himself away from his husband. It wouldn't be useful to keep standing against him if they couldn't do anything. "Guess you will just have to wait until tomorrow." He smiled and ran a hand slowly down Sherlock's chest.
"Sorry," Sherlock muttered again. Tomorrow. God yes they were definitely going to shag tomorrow damn it. He poured the coiling water into two cups and stirred in the tea. He added sugar to one and gave it to John and then filled the other with milk. Since the water had been boiling longer than needed, he waited for his tea to cool a bit before taking a sip.
"Sherlock, you are fine," John said with a smile as he blew on his tea and took a small sip. Delicious. "Your perfect tea making skills are more than enough." He leaned against the counter and then sheepishly covered himself. Even if it was just Sherlock, he was still a bit uncomfortable being naked in the middle of the house.
Sherlock couldn't help but smirk at John. "You should just get used to being naked my dear doctor. We are on our honeymoon in a private beach house. I estimate we will only be clothed ten percent of the time anyway." He took another sip of his tea. "Any ideas on how to spend the rest of the night. Maybe some telly? I could read you that book my mother gave me." His smirk broadened.
Oh. The book. John figured it was different and better than watching telly. But it would certainly make him blush. "Hate my body," he mumbled with a small blush as he took another sip of tea. "Is that book any good?" He asked hesitantly.
"My dear doctor, you make no sense sometimes do you know that? My body has just as many if not more scars than yours does. What makes mine amazing and perfect and yours not?" Sherlock set the cup on the counter and moved over to John. He placed his hands on his husband's shoulders lightly and leaned down and gave John's forehead a kiss. The book wasn't important right now, his husband was.
John looked up at Sherlock with a lop-sided smile, studying his husband curiously. "It isn't just the scars," he muttered, looking down at his mug. "I am short. Bit pudgy since I have left the Army. No where near as beautiful as you." He shifted to set his tea down and bravely met his husband's gaze.
Sherlock snorted. "How in the hell did you ever shag so many woman with that kind of attitude? You know, one the things that attracted me to you to begin with is your self confidence. When you talk like that, its like I don't even know the man I fell in love with." He frowned a bit. Shit, were they on their way to another fight? He should have just kept his mouth shut, shouldn't he?
Oh. John dropped his head instantly. "Mostly in the dark," he mumbled softly as he tried to control his blush. "I am sort of comfortable with you," he added as he pressed himself against the counter. "When I look at you I get jealous. You have a slim body, perfect muscles." He swallowed and finally met his husband's gaze again. "I am not like you. That was why you are always in control, Sherlock."
Were they really going to have this conversation on their honeymoon? It would seem so. The frown on Sherlock's lips deepened in thought. "I let you have control. Sometimes...sort of..." He sighed as he trailed off, as he thought a bit longer. "You know what? Tomorrow. Complete control. No input or suggestions from me. I will agree and submit to anything and everything you say. We will do whatever you want to do all day." They had tried that once before at the hotel in Kabul but it really hadn't worked out very well. He was determined to make sure it happened this time around.
Control. John's eyes went wide and he swallowed. There was a reason he rarely fought it and that was because he believed Sherlock deserved the control, not him. "O-Okay," he muttered nervously, taking a deep breath. Could he do that? An entire day. Well, he figured he could. "Are you sure?" He hesitantly moved his hands out to rest on his husband's hips, his thumbs running over Sherlock's hipbones. This was a change but...it seemed like they were right on the edge of possibly fighting.
Sherlock nodded, smiling down at John. "Of course. That is of course, you want to." He didn't want his husband to feel like he had to. It would have to be something John wanted to do, not something his husband felt obligated to do. He wrapped his arms around his partner, hugging the other man close to him. "A whole twenty-four hours. Midnight to midnight." He gave a slight smirk and then kissed John on the lips lightly.
Twenty-four hours. John grinned into the kiss and pulled his husband closer eagerly. "Of course," he said. It was like he was a little kid again. He had only had complete control once and it had been at the beginning of the honeymoon. "I would love to." He laughed and suddenly seemed so full of confidence, his eyes shining a little brighter and his chest puffed out a bit more. This would be good, wouldn't it? Good. "I love you," he muttered as he buried his face in Sherlock's chest with a blush and a giggle.
Good. Very good indeed. Fight averted and John was happy. The latter was more important to Sherlock but he was relieved that both had been the outcome. "I love you too." He rested his head atop of his husband's. He glanced over to the clock on the microwave. "In a couple of hours it will be midnight, so you better be ready. No pressure or anything." He pulled away so he could smirk down at John.
John turned his head slightly and snorted. "I doubt I will actually be able to do anything until tomorrow morning," he muttered as he turned his head again, placing soft kisses against his husband's chest. "I could make you lay on the bed," he whispered. "Map out every inch of your skin with my mouth." A small smirk tugged at his lips at the thought. That sounded wonderful, actually.
"If that is what you want to do, then that is what we will do. Like I said, whatever you want. It doesn't have to be all sexual, just so you know. Tomorrow is your day and I mean exactly that." Sherlock smiled down at John and then leaned in to kiss his husband once more, his forehead resting on his partner's comfortably. His eyes slid close in contentment as he continued the gentle and easy kiss.
John returned the kiss at the same speed, pulling away when he needed a breath. "That isn't sexual. More romantic, really," he whispered as he gently started to move his feet, slowly mouthing a 'one-two-three-four' beat. There wasn't any music but his feet slid well against the floor and Sherlock looked stunning. They were naked but sod it, nobody was around to see them. He grinned up at his husband.
Again, that word 'romantic.' Sherlock was certain he would never understand the concept at this point. Even though it wasn't midnight yet, he figured he could give John a head start. He followed his husband's lead with ease. He returned the grin. "Look at you. Dancing all on your own and with no music. I am impressed. Of course, you had a amazing and perfect teacher." The grin twisted into a smirk.
"Had trouble focusing on dancing lessons," John muttered as he glanced down at his feet. "My teacher was too attractive. Wanted to shag him through a wall the whole time." He glanced up at his husband for a moment as he slowed his feet to stand on his toes, kissing Sherlock. Might as well start teasing his husband now. "Wanted to wake up in your arms tomorrow morning," he whispered against Sherlock's lips. "Have a wonderful morning shag," he added with a lop-sided smile.
Sherlock returned the kiss without hesitation. "That sounds like a wonderful idea my dear doctor." Hopefully one of them would be up to it, because at this rate he wasn't sure either one of them would be able to do much of any kind of shagging. He kept that to himself. He didn't want to spoil any of this for John. All he could do was hope he would be able to get an erection tomorrow. It needed to happen for his husband. Needed to keep John happy.
"Of course it is a wonderful idea. I came up with it." John laughed softly and reached around Sherlock to grab his mug. The tea was still steaming slightly and he took a small sip, a shiver running through him at the wonderful sensation. "Are you tired?" He asked softly as he moved his free hand to rub gently at the bruise forming on his husband's forehead. He had taken quite the hit. "That concussion might knock you at again."
"Not really," Sherlock admitted. He couldn't help the small grimace from John's touch. "Still tender though." He moved his head slightly, away from the inquiring fingers. It was probably due to the lack of pain medication. Shit. He had been doing so well. He hadn't thought about it all since the hospital until now. He needed a distraction otherwise he would just become irritable and grumpy, of that much he was certain.
"Sorry." John took another sip from his tea and set the mug on the counter, smiling gently at him. "I could stay up with you, if you would like," he paused. "Or...you know, try at least." Honestly, he enjoyed sleeping. It was something that pulled him from the real world. And when he wasn't having nightmares he did have pleasant dreams and usually slept like a bear.
Sherlock gave John a soft smile. "It is fine my dear doctor. And whether or not you sleep, is entirely up to you. It is your day, so you get to do whatever the hell you want." He was quiet for a moment after that. "If you really want me to, I can try to sleep." He wasn't sure if he would, but he would try. Usually he wouldn't agree to such a thing, but he had promised his husband complete control and damn it he was going to give it. Even if meant sleeping or eating when he didn't want to. He could muster through that for a day, he figured.
Offering to sleep? "Are you telling me that you can make yourself fall asleep?" John looked up at him with his eyebrows knitted together, narrowing his eyes. This was rubbish. If Sherlock could make himself fall asleep then John would literally smack him. "I am not saying you have to," he added after a long moment. He didn't want to force Sherlock to do anything he didn't want to. "That is fine, really. You can stay up." He yawned and pressed his face into his husband's chest.
"Make myself sleep? No. I merely said I would try if you wanted me to." Sherlock shrugged slightly. Had he ruined things by his offer? He had been trying to make things better by the suggestion. The twenty-four hours hadn't even started yet and already he was screwing it up. Bloody fantastic. He placed his chin on top of John's head, pulling his husband slightly closer to him in a hug.
John relaxed further into his husband and smiled softly. It was one of those hugs. "You haven't done anything wrong," he stated softly as his fingers moved lightly up and down Sherlock's spine. "I learned two days after our wedding that I shouldn't force you to do anything. I don't care if you give me control, I am not going to make you do anything that you don't want to."
A genuinely delighted smiled tugged on his lips. Sherlock pulled away so he could once more look down at his husband, gazing into the other man's eyes. "John Hamish Watson, I love you." He smiled once more, and encompassed his partner in another hug. His cheek and ear rested on the top of John's head. He wasn't ready to let go, but he did make sure it wasn't too tight. His eyes closed again, perfectly content in this position.
John returned the hug but tried to figure out what he had said or done that had warranted the use of his full name. "Right. Yeah," he cleared his throat. "I love you, too." He closed his eyes. Why think about it? It was nice to have Sherlock holding him close like he was. So much affection coming from Sherlock was nice and John would take anything he could get.
Sherlock had noticed the hesitation and after awhile he pulled away from John. "I just wanted to let you know that I appreciated what you said. After the first month of being married, I guess it just means a lot to me. Thank you." He smiled at his husband once more. He hadn't wanted to bring up the hell that was the beginning of their marriage but he felt it needed to be said.
Oh. Right. John had said something right. He smiled softly and nodded, even shrugging. "I learned. I had to keep you happy, didn't I? That is what marriage is about, isn't? Understanding each other?" He tugged his bottom lip between his teeth and dropped his eyes. Almost too emotional. "So I learned. I watched and observed and figured out what you did and didn't like."
"Yeah, I guess it is." Sherlock smiled and then nodded slightly. He wasn't sure he knew what marriage was really about but he knew it was harder than he thought it would be. It required a lot of talking. Compromise. Maybe even a little sacrifice. Things he never thought he would do but his husband was worth it.
It was weird to be talking about marriage with Sherlock because sometimes John couldn't believe they were married. "You are my husband," John whispered softly with a small yank of his husband to pull him closer. He stood on his toes and gently met his husband's lips, holding him as close as he could.
"And you are mine." Sherlock returned the kiss and smiled behind it. This was nice. He always loved moments like these that they shared together. He let their lips linger together once the kiss was over, his head resting on John's carefully so as not to agitate the gash on his head. Maybe he was just being selfish but even though his husband was probably getting tired he didn't want to let go.
Husband. John was Sherlock's husband. He grinned and let his eyes slip closed, his breathing slowly slightly. "You are comfortable," he muttered into Sherlock's chest. For being so skinny he really made a fantastic pillow, even if they were standing up.
Sherlock couldn't help but smirk. "Comfortable? I am all skin and bones. You can practically cut yourself on my cheekbones. Want to go lay down? I can carry you, if you are too tired." He smirked again, hugging John closer to him still. "Speaking of comfortable, you make a wonderful pillow."
John snorted and looked up at Sherlock. "I am a bit too heavy for you to carry me," he muttered with a smirk. "And I make a good pillow because I am a bit bigger than you." He yawned and let his head fall back against his husband's chest. "I have slept on you before and you are amazingly comfortable."
"I have carried you before. I am sure can do it again." Sherlock smirked cockily into John's short hair. He was actually enjoying hugging his husband close like this, so he didn't bother to move either of them from the kitchen. The tea was long forgotten by now and barely touched, but he didn't care. He could make a fresh pot later.
Right. In the middle of the desert. "I was barely awake for that," John muttered with a soft laugh. But he did remember some of it, laying with his head in Sherlock's lap. "Besides, I have put on weight since then." He let his eyes slip closed again, leaning more on his husband. "Don't want to break you."
"Fine, then we had better get you to bed. If you fall asleep standing up, I will have to carry you anyway." Sherlock kissed the top of John's head before lifting his. He didn't pull away from his husband, since the other man was relying heavily upon him at this point. He didn't mind at all. "If you don't want to make it the bedroom, the couch is a bit closer."
Moving. Laying down. John grunted and slowly lifted his head. The bed had more space and was a bit more comfortable. "Bed," he whispered as he slowly pulled away from Sherlock. He couldn't help but giggle softly at the fact that they were both still naked. He moved slowly toward their bedroom and flopped on to the bed.
Sherlock smiled, nodded and followed after John. He snuggled in next to his husband, his head laying on John's shoulder and an arm draped over his husband's stomach. His other hand ran soothingly through John's hair. Hopefully his husband wouldn't have any nightmares this time around.
John rolled into Sherlock and tightly wrapped his arms around his husband, pressing his husband's face into his chest. "Love you," he muttered into Sherlock's hair as he tangled their legs together. He pressed their bodies together as tight as he could, grumbling slightly before he slowly started to relax, finally falling asleep.
Sherlock smiled, kissing John's shoulder lightly. "I love you too." He wasn't tired after napping earlier today but he would stay here next to his husband. He tilted his head up to whisper into John's ear. "Sleep well this time my dear doctor. Think of me in your dreams. Of little Sandi. All the wonderful things you have planned tomorrow."