Author's Note:

I am posting early today because I got called into work on my day off and I will be there late tonight.


Sherlock smiled when John fell asleep. Good. His husband needed to rest as much as possible. The coughing seemed to be gone, along with the fever. Very good indeed. When he felt John move he tilted his head down to look at his husband. "Good morning Love." He kissed the top of John's head as he gave his husband a hug.

"Morning," John whispered with a tired smile, looking up at his husband sheepishly. "Love," he added with a slightly laugh. "Love," he repeated as he titled his head and placed a soft kiss on his husband's neck. Maybe tonight they could finally have their romantic night. He was feeling better and, God, he wanted to make Sherlock happy after everything he had done.

Sherlock smiled down at John and then titled his head so his husband could have better access to his neck. "How are you feeling?" He wrapped an arm around his partner, so he could pull John closer to him. "Well enough to finally eat, maybe? I can make you breakfast in bed, only if you are up to it of course."

"Hmm?" John lifted his head slightly and nodded. "I'm fantastic and breakfast sounds lovely." He gently met his husband's lips. Except that would mean Sherlock getting up and he really didn't want that. "Can we shag after that?" He asked softly, meeting Sherlock's gaze with a hopeful smile. It was their honeymoon, he didn't want to sit around. He wanted to take advantage of Sherlock like this before they got back to London.

It was weird to hear that question, because really they usually just shagged whenever the hell they wanted to. Sherlock hesitated for a moment before answering. "Can we wait until tonight?" He still wanted the dinner under the stars and everything, even more furiously than before. If John really wanted to, he would probably give in but maybe his husband would agree.

If he waited until tonight he would give Sherlock something he really wanted. He could wait. "Of course," John whispered softly, a hand sliding between them to gently scratch at his husband's stomach. "Tonight, then. I'm feeling so much better." He grinned eagerly and ran his free hand through Sherlock's hair. "I have a bit of an idea...if you still want to watch porn." He looked up at Sherlock hesitantly. "We could do that after breakfast?"

If Sherlock had been drinking something he was certain he would have spit it all over at the mention of that accursed word. That word. Just thinking about it… No. He shook his head. "I would really rather not," he replied quietly as he tried to relax his now suddenly tense body. That God damned word was what had got them here in the first place and if he never heard it again, it would be too soon.

Still a touchy subject, then. John closed his eyes for a long moment and nodded. "Sorry didn't mean to..." Of course he would continue to mess things up. That was just how this relationship was, wasn't it? "You just had said...Never mind, forget I mentioned it." He placed a soft kiss on Sherlock's chest and rested his head, nuzzling against his husband's skin in order to try and comfort him. That had been stupid, why did he even bring it up?

Never. Sherlock was determined he would never watch porn, ever. He let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding and forced himself to relax. "It's fine. I had been curious before, but now…" He trailed off with a shake of his head. "…Well, I'm just not anymore…" The word swirled in him a strong visceral reaction and he was certain if he had eaten at all in the last few days it would have been all over the floor.

"It is fine," John whispered in reassurance. It was all fine. At this point he wished he hadn't even brought it up because their entire morning had just come crashing down. He had ruined it, in typical John Watson fashion. "Sorry. I didn't...Sorry..." He shifted against his husband and gently met his lips, trying to apologize through the kiss. Fix the morning. "How about I make breakfast?"

Sherlock managed to small smile. "You are fine and I am still making breakfast. You, my Love, are staying in bed, until tonight." The smile turned into smirk. Yes. Think about tonight. Much better already. He finally got up. "A light breakfast my dear doctor? So we will be hungry for dinner tonight?"

John rolled on to his side with a small frown. God, it was cold already. "Toast. Probably the best thing for my stomach." He smiled a bit and curled into the blankets, grinning like an idiot. "And tea, of course. Can never go wrong with that." He wiggled as his foot poked out from under the blanket, his toes curling against Sherlock's thigh. "Can't wait to make love to you."

Sherlock was actually starving. He hadn't eaten in almost five days, but he had been taking care of John for most of them. "Tea and toast it is then, my Love. I can't wait for tonight, either." He smiled at his husband before leaving the bedroom. Once he was sure John couldn't see him, he slumped against the wall in the kitchen. God his body was weak and he hadn't really noticed until he had finally gotten out of bed. In his worry for his husband, he had completely forgotten to take care of himself and now he was paying for it

"Need a chair?" Anthea smiled at Sherlock as warm as she could manage, her mobile in one hand and the other offered out at him. "We wanted to tell you but...John was bad, we knew we couldn't convince you to get away from him. Sit down, we can give you some medicine and we already have some food ready for you."

Sherlock hadn't realized that Anthea and the doctor were still in the beach house. He found this to be annoying. "I am fine." He leaned up off the wall, to prove his point. "I'm making John breakfast," he practically growled out the words. It was his job, and no one else's. He walked over to the fridge stubbornly and slammed it closed when he was done getting things out.

"We recommend sitting down, Sherlock," Anthea said softly. It wasn't rude or condescending but... worried. "Please. If only for a few moments." She watched her employer's younger brother with a bit of a frown. None of this was good. With John getting better Sherlock should be on his way up, too. But it had been five days since he had focused on himself and it was starting to show.

"I said I am fine. Why are you even still here?" Sherlock didn't bother to hide the agitation in his voice. He began making tea for John and hot chocolate for himself. He put down white toast for his husband and when it was done he put jam on it. He made raisin toast for himself, four slices rather than two. It would be enough to hold him over until dinner at least. Once the kettle went off he prepared John's cup and then his own with cocoa mix. Bloody perfect, no trays left to carry the dishes. He slammed the cupboard closed. Why was he suddenly so angry? Was it just the presence of Anthea and the doctor?

"Calm down." Anthea kept her distance and pushed a tray toward Sherlock, putting everything on it before clearing her throat. "There. I am here because your brother asked me but if you don't want help I will stay in the living room." She turned back to her mobile and moved back to the couch where the telly was on. "Sorry," she muttered to herself as she started typing.

Sherlock glared at Anthea and picked up the tray. It shook in his hands and he had to place it back down on the counter before the contents of the cup sloshed out. Maybe he should sit down for a bit. He slid down against the cabinets, leaning his head against the door. He closed his eyes, intending only to rest for a few minutes but he ended up passing out instead.

"Stubborn git." Anthea stood up and the doctor was at her side as they picked Sherlock up and moved him to the couch, laying him down gently. It wasn't long before John was out of the bedroom, his boxers yanked on and his eyes wide. "Doctor Watson, please sit down," she commanded steadily and he did as told.

Passed out. Sherlock had passed out and that was because he hadn't been taking care of himself. All his fault. "Fuck," John muttered as he buried his face in his hands. The doctor wasted no time in giving Sherlock an injection to help with the lack of food.

Sherlock groaned as the injection was given to him but didn't wake up. His body had gotten enough sleep but no food since the day he found the lighthouse. He hadn't eaten since ordering in at the restaurant. He slept a couple hours, his eyes opening slowly and taking a moment to focus.

"Git," John said with a smile, looking down at his husband with relief. Awake. God, they couldn't handle much more of this. "I made some new food, if you are up for it. You're a bit weak." He shifted so he could sit on the floor, his back pressed against the couch. "Only if you want. I sent them out so you wouldn't be so upset," he said with a knowing grin before lifting a hand up and running it gently across his husband's stomach.

Sherlock managed a weak smirk at John's words, pleased that they were alone. "Hadn't realized how much I had neglected myself the last few days. Think I will be okay if I eat." He sat up slowly, with a slight groan. "Sorry, didn't mean to worry you."

"Nope. No." John sat up a bit and placed his hand on Sherlock's chest, pushing him back down. "Bed rest. My orders," he said softly. "I am fine now. Don't worry about me. They gave you an injection to help you out a bit." He reached down and grabbed a slice of raisin toast, reaching up to hold it against his husband's lips. "Small bite?"

"I'm fine," Sherlock muttered but laid back down anyway. Food. He felt like he could eat the whole thing in one bite but that probably wasn't wise. He took a small bite like instructed, chewing slowly. "No beach tonight?" He had ruined their plans hadn't he? All because he had been stupid and not taken care of himself at all.

"Maybe tomorrow night," John said with a smile, looking at his husband reassuringly. "It is fine, though. We have both got to be healthy and that's just going to make it better." He leaned back against the couch, his head resting against his husband's hip. "Here. 'Nother one." He held up the bread but held it there longer so Sherlock could take a bigger bite this time.

Sherlock gave a resigned sigh but nodded anyway. He took another bite of the bread. He spoke after chewing and swallowing. "Can we move to the bed at least? Want to snuggle with you at least." He pouted a bit, not caring if he sounded like a child right now.

John laughed and nodded his head, putting the toast back on the plate at his side. "Yeah. Let me help you." He smiled as he stood up, linking an arm around his husband's shoulders and helping him stand. It didn't take much for him to help Sherlock to their room and lay him on the bed. "Be right back." He placed a kiss on his husband's forehead, left for a moment, and returned with the plate of toast. "Now c'mere amazing husband." He moved to his side of the bed and sat up against the headboard, holding the toast out so Sherlock could take a few more bites.

With John's help, Sherlock made it to the bedroom. He laid down on the bed with a slight groan. Shit, he was still feeling weak. This was stupid; he should be taking care of his husband. Not the other way around. He shifted a bit, so he could take bites of the toast. "Sorry," he muttered. They were supposed to be making love tonight and now they couldn't because he hadn't been strong enough for his husband.

Sorry? John shook his head instantly and wrapped an arm around his husband's shoulders. "Don't apologize, Sherlock. It is fine," he said softly. There was no reason for his husband to feel bad at all. The man had put his entire focus on John and now he had to return the favor. That was what being married was all about. "I love you. You are perfect." He placed a soft kiss on Sherlock's temple.

"I love you too. Also, I am perfect and amazing," Sherlock corrected, although not with his usual zeal and cockiness. He decided he was done eating and he snuggled into John's shoulder. He wasn't tired but he wasn't at full strength either. "So, bed rest all day then? Seems like strict orders from my Doctor." He managed a faint smirk.

"Bed rest and eating," John said softly, lifting the toast to his mouth and taking a bite. "You need some carbs so I am going to make some pasta for you. Or potatoes. But in a bit you need to eat." He finished off the first slice of toast with a small smile. "Maybe a blow job to help you sleep."

"I am eating," Sherlock muttered, his lip puckering into a pout. God, he was hungry though. He was just being a stubborn child, like usual. A blow job sounded absolutely wonderful, better than any kind of food. Except, he wasn't sure he had the strength to do anything sexual. That and the last time hadn't been good for John.

"You stopped and it won't be a massive meal." John smiled and started gently rubbing his husband's shoulder in an attempt to calm him down. The last thing he needed was Sherlock arguing while he was this weak. "Do you want to sleep? Maybe talk?" He bent his head and gently met his husband's lips.

Sherlock mumbled and then shrugged. "Not tired." Talking always seemed to result in a fight these days. Kissing. That was always good distraction. He returned the kiss, slowly moving so he could be on top of John. That shouldn't be as tiring and work as it had been. It didn't matter though, he was making out with his husband.

Even in his weakened state Sherlock had a control streak in him. John laughed softly into his husband's mouth and continued the kiss as he wrapped his arms around Sherlock to support him. He didn't want his husband to pass out again or get too weak. God, he should have pulled away from the kiss but he couldn't help himself. He nipped at Sherlock's lower lip with a small growl.

Sherlock smirked a bit, pressing his body into the man below him eagerly. He had gone from being unsure if he wanted anything sexual, to wanting it immediately. Would he be able to get an erection right now? God, he hoped so. He moved his lips and began marking John's neck with small sucking circles and bites.

Too far. John pulled his neck away from his husband's mouth with a small gasp, shaking his head as his hands moved to hold Sherlock's hips still. "No. We can't," he said softly, a bit of a frown on his face. "Wait. You are weak. Just...let's wait." He pressed their foreheads together and let his eyes close.

Damn it. Sherlock sighed, moving his head to rest on John's shoulder. Be good or try to convince his husband to keep going? He decided on trying to seduce the man below him. He began licking and kissing the scar on the shoulder, his body squirming into John. He whimpered into his husband's skin.

John moaned. His scars were so sensitive and Sherlock knew exactly what he was doing with his mouth. "Jesus." He lifted a hand to scratch gently at his husband's back, his breathing suddenly a bit faster. "Good," he muttered as any thoughts of stopping were immediately erased.

Sherlock smirked, rather pleased. He continued to shower the scar with gentle kisses, his body writhing into John. Except he wasn't getting hard. His body probably couldn't perform right now, in his weakened state. Shagging was the only thing he could think of for a distraction, and he wanted it badly.

It didn't take long for John to realize, through his haze of arousal, that Sherlock wasn't getting hard. He sat up with a small gasp, watching his husband's mouth before pushing a finger under Sherlock's chin, lifting his head up. "You can't," he said softly, shifting and rolling so he would end up on top of his husband and settled between his legs. "Wait. Tomorrow night will be here and it won't be needy or desperate, it will be what you really want."

"Don't want to wait." Sherlock was pouting now, even though he knew John was right. They hadn't shagged since being in the sea and with constantly shagging on their honeymoon this was practically torture to him. He sighed in resignation. "Can't wait for tomorrow," he said quietly, looking up at his husband with a small smile.

Sherlock wasn't making this decision any easier. John took a deep breath, returning his husband's smile. "You can't even get an erection. You can wait, I promise. Please. I am not going to shag you." He dropped his head and gave Sherlock a gentle kiss. "I sucked you off yesterday. You should be fine."

Sherlock smirked and shook his head. "You misunderstood my dear doctor. I can wait, even though I don't want to. I meant I can't wait for tomorrow night to happen." He had never really asked John for something like this, and he really wanted it to happen. Things just kept getting in the way. All because of that stupid fight. His own stupid decision. He had put his husband's life in danger. He was certain he would never forgive himself for it.

John blushed instantly and averted his gaze. "Oops." He laughed nervously and leaned down to give his husband with a smile. "Bed rest. A small meal...then you will be set." He tugged his bottom lip between his teeth. "I will take you nice a slow, talk to you, make you shout at the sky." He kissed Sherlock again, a devilish smirk on his lips.

The smirk returned. "Keep that up and I just might not be able to wait." Sherlock wrapped his arms around John, holding his husband close for awhile before finally releasing the man above him. "I will only eat if you feed me some more." His smirk got bigger.

"So picky," John said softly, his eyes studying his husband's face. "But I think I can manage that. It shouldn't be a problem." He shifted to look at the clock in the room. The last thing he wanted to do was force Sherlock to do anything. After their wedding he had learned. "Will you be ready to eat in two hours or so?" He turned back to look at his husband curiously.

Two hours? He had to wait to eat? "I don't suppose I could eat now? Because honestly, I haven't been this hungry since..." Sherlock trailed off, hesitant to mention the time they had been abducted. That whole incident for John was a little too fresh for his husband and he didn't want to remind his partner of it if he didn't have to.

John brought his eyebrows together for a moment, trying to figure out how that sentence was going to end before he cracked a smile. Never in his life did the think he would hear Sherlock ask for food. "Of course. That does mean I am going to have to get up to cook it. Is that all right with you?" He gently met his husband's lips.

Sherlock was about to tell John to heat up some leftovers until he remembered the pizza was over a week old now and the ravioli was almost a week. He wouldn't have a problem eating either really but he doubted his husband would be willing to feed him food that old. Right. John would have to leave. He returned the kiss before nodding his consent. "Whatever is fine. Just not a lot. Want to be hungry for tomorrow night." He smiled at just the thought.

"You are going to eat a bit more than you're used to," John muttered as he moved off of his husband and to the floor. "But I will try to make it taste good." With one more smile in Sherlock's direction he moved into the kitchen. It took him around thirty minutes to make a small bowl of pasta with Alfredo sauce and a small piece of garlic bread. He moved into the bedroom with the bowl in his hand, grinning happily. "I think I actually cooked a decent meal," he exclaimed happily, sitting on the bed cross-legged in front of Sherlock with a proud nod.

Sherlock had actually ended up falling asleep while waiting for John to return. He groaned when he heard his husband's voice. Shit. He had only meant to rest his eyes for bit, not take a nap. He looked at John bleary eyed when his husband sat down. "Looks good," he murmured as he sat up a bit so he could eat.

John grimaced at his husband. "Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you up," he whispered, leaning forward to give Sherlock a small kiss. If he would've known that his husband was going to be asleep he would have waited. Getting Sherlock to sleep was quite the accomplishment. "Here." He scooted forward and took the fork, wrapping some spaghetti around it and holding it up to his husband's lips. Perhaps he would fall back asleep once he was full.

"It is fine. Hadn't meant to fall asleep like that anyway." Sherlock returned the kiss with a small smile. He ate the food on the fork. He would have never thought he would let anyone feed him like some incapable infant but it had actually turned out to be quite the turn on for him. Although, it was usually with finger food.

John smiled a bit, leaning forward after Sherlock took his bite to give his husband a quick kiss. "One bite equals one kiss," he stated with a bit of a smirk. He picked up the garlic bread and glanced at his husband before leaning forward and pressing the bread to his husband's lips. After a few seconds be moved and ran his tongue up Sherlock's neck.

Sherlock smirked back. He was about to take a bite of the garlic bread but he was distracted by the tongue on his neck. He moaned, tilting his head to the side. John was making it really hard to want to wait until tomorrow night. He was going to want his husband again soon, if this kept up.

"Bread," John said softly against his husband's neck, pressing his nose into the skin with a small chuckle. "Keep eating and I will keep spoiling you." He pulled back with a warm smile and pushed the bread a bit harder against Sherlock's lips. "C'mon." He leaned forward and kept his gaze locked with Sherlock's.

"John, believe me when I tell you I love your tongue on my neck but all that will result will me getting turned on and then extremely sexually frustrated..." Sherlock trailed of, frowning a bit. He hoped he hadn't disappointed his husband. At least he was learning some form of self control out of this whole ordeal. So, that was something at least.

Should he tell Sherlock that was his plan? "Want to suck you off," John admitted softly. It technically wasn't shagging so he should be able to do it. It would make Sherlock tired and require very little real effort on his part. "Eat and I will give you a blow job."

Sherlock raised his eyebrows, with a faint smirk. He shook his head though. "It is fine. I can wait, it won't kill me. Besides don't think I will be able to get hard anyway." If John could wait, so could he damn it. He didn't need to be spoiled. He was perfectly content just to spend time with his husband.

John tensed but nodded because, really, it wasn't like he could give Sherlock a blow job if he said no. He smiled a bit and set the garlic bread down, putting more spaghetti on a fork. Understandable. And feeding his husband was quite lovely, even without the kisses and teasing touches. "Then when you are done I want to lay in bed next to you and whisper things to you," he stated softly as he held the fork up to Sherlock's lips.

Sherlock took a bite of the Alfredo. Laying down next to each other, sounded like a wonderful idea. Ever since they spent most of the day curled up in each other, he had wanted to repeat it. Today seemed like a good day for that, didn't it? Whisper things? He always felt weird when they talked, because he didn't know what to say.

"I am going to take your silence as a maybe on the whispering," John whispered as he pulled the fork back, smiling a bit at his husband. "We can lay down, I will do the whispering," he corrected as he lifted the garlic bread to his own lips and took a small bite. Oh...God, it was horrible. He winced and swallowed it with a small cough before glancing at his pasta. Was that horrible, too? Was Sherlock eating it just to make him feel better or because he was really that hungry?

"Want to cuddle like we did the day we took the yacht out," Sherlock admitted quietly. He felt a bit…awkward when he openly divulged such things. He supposed he shouldn't but it was hard for him still. Maybe someday he would be at ease with being open and intimate. He was getting better though, he thought. At the beginning of their relationship there was no way he would have asked for John to make love to him under stars.

"I can do that," John replied softly, glancing down at his bowl. "Do you want to stop eating? I'm...a bit afraid this pasta tastes horrible now. My cooking skills are...not spectacular." But he didn't wait for an answer, setting the bowl down on the bedside table and moving to embrace his husband. After hearing Sherlock ask to just lay in bed he suddenly couldn't keep his hands to himself. "Love you," he whispered in Sherlock's hair as he pulled his husband's head against his chest.

Sherlock frowned a bit. "I thought it tasted fine." Although admittedly, he wasn't a picky eater and he would pretty eat anything. He was actually still hungry, but John had already put the food down so he just stayed quiet about it. He curled into his husband, snuggling his head deeper into John's chest. "I love you too."