Author's Note:
Thank you for all the kind reviews! =) Lots of Johnlock stuff for the next six or so chapters. My work schedule is pretty crazy right now, so I probably won't be able to upload a new chapter until Saturday or Sunday. Sorry. =(
When the day finally arrived, John packed two pairs of camouflage pants and two tan shirts, the only clothes he had that would be slightly appropriate for the quick vacation, and slipped his dusty bag on to his back as he boarded the helicopter that would take him away from Bastion and straight to what he imagined would be a posh hotel where he wouldn't fit in at all.
Sherlock was all packed and Mycroft's car was sitting for him outside. The stay wouldn't be that long, so he fit everything into a carry-on. He was a light packer to begin with, so it worked. He climbed into the back seat, setting the luggage at his feet. He turned to look at his brother. "Did the rings get made in time? I wanted to be able to give it to John before I leave. You haven't said anything, right? I want to surprise him."
Mycroft glanced at his brother and placed two, small velvet boxes in Sherlock's hand. "Both silver, sized correctly. His has your name engraved on the inside, yours has his." He gave a short, sure nod as the car lurched forward. "You'll be in Kabul staying in the hotel near the British Embassy. You'll be arriving first, I've been told Captain Watson is attempting to catch up on sleep before leaving Camp Bastion. You'll be in room 322, alone on the floor since your Captain has quite the penchant for being a tad loud. Two days and then you'll be back in London." He dropped a white envelope in Sherlock's hand. "Here are the keys to your room. Plane ticket. Your so-called case is nothing more than investigating possible mistreatment of power by a non-existent British marine. Only way I could get you in." He took a deep breath. "Be safe. See you soon."
Two days. God, if Sherlock thought these last three months had gone by quickly then these next two days would be but a blur and over far too quickly. He had already bought a nice but simple silver chain to hang his ring from. It was in his inside pocket, in a small plastic box. He opened the velvet boxes to glance at the rings while his brother continued to speak. He wasn't an expert on silver, but even his untrained eye could see it was fine and expensive. Mycroft had spared no expense and had really outdone himself. He closed them and stuck the boxes into the smaller pouch of his carry-on. "Thank you. For everything." No hesitation and he even managed to keep his gaze on his older brother while he spoke.
Mycroft finally turned his gaze to his younger brother. "Of course. John has changed you so much. All for the better. This is the least I could do." He reached out and placed a hand on Sherlock's shoulder. "You deserve this." After a moment Mycroft smiles, his phone going off. "I am to be corrected. Captain Watson is already in Kabul. He'll be there waiting for you. Enjoy yourself, dear brother." He squeezed Sherlock's shoulder and pulled away from the contact with a dignified straightening of his tie.
Sherlock merely nodded at Mycroft's words and sentiment. The ride was quiet after that and the car came to stop in front of the airport. "If I don't call, don't be surprised." He smirked at his brother as he got out, picking up his carry-on easily. He shut the car door, went through the security check point and found his gate with ease.
John entered the hotel to stares. Men in clean suits. Not covered in dust or tracking it across the clean marble floor. He went to the front desk with his head low, the woman smiling at him and sliding the keys across the counter. He accepted them with a tight smile as he moved toward the stairs. 322. A whole floor to themselves from what Mycroft had said on the phone last night. He trudged up the stairs loudly, his combat boots making it difficult to do anything with finesse on even ground. The moment he entered the hotel room he grinned. Clean. No dirt. A large, king-sized bed in the middle. John grinned and dropped his bag in the middle of the floor, instantly pulling his clothes off and moving toward the shower. He had forgone the shower after patrol early in the morning to sleep and the idea of being clean, really clean, caused him to trip over his shoes in anticipation.
The shower was long and John was fairly sure that the hotel must have been out of water once he was finished. He wrapped a towel loosely around his hips, letting it hang low as he fell stomach-first on to the bed. He had some time and he figured he would take a quick nap before waking up to change into clean clothes to greet Sherlock. He hadn't intended on literally falling asleep but the bed was too comfortable and he was out the moment his head hit the pillow.
It wasn't until Sherlock looked at his ticket did he realize it was first class. He shook his head and waited impatiently for his flight to start boarding. When first class was called to board, he got on the plane. It wasn't a big commercial one, but he figured many people weren't flying to Kabul lately. He sat next to a loud, rude and complaining businessman. He tried to tune him out, but the other man just wouldn't shut up. He turned to the man sitting next to him and told him everything about him. The man sat in stunned silence and then muttered something. A flight attendant offered him a glass of wine. "No thanks, I don't drink. I did it for me, not you." He gave a slight smirk and enjoyed the rest of his flight in silence.
It had felt good to tell that man off. It was better than any drug dose. Every once in awhile, Sherlock would get in a row with Donovan or Anderson but those two got boring after awhile. The plane landed a little ahead of schedule. He took a cab to the British Embassy and just walked to the hotel from there. He ignored the stares and took the elevator up to the third floor. He unlocked the door and smiled to himself when he saw John fast asleep on the bed, in nothing but a towel nonetheless. He shut the door quietly, leaving his bag by the door. In a few quick strides, he was at the bed. He slipped in next to John, his chest against the other man's back with an arm wrapped around him tightly. "I missed you my dear doctor," he whispered into the army doctor's neck.
John took a long intake of breath, shifting back against the warmth that suddenly surrounded him. Where was he? One hand curled tightly into the sheet below him as he stretched, pressing the bottom of his feet against the top of Sherlock's shoes with a low groan of confusion. He felt the lips on the back of his neck and slowly opened his eyes. This wasn't the barracks at Bastion. The wall in front of him was clean with wall paper, the bed sheets were soft and white...
And there was an arm around him, tight and secure. Sherlock. He was in Kabul and he had fallen asleep after his shower. John turned almost frantically to face Sherlock, getting tangled in the towel but still managing to pin Sherlock against the mattress while straddling his hips. Sherlock. He smiled as he studied the man below him. He hadn't changed. No weight loss or gain. Just... Sherlock Holmes. He moved both of his hands into Sherlock's hair and roughly met his lips.
Sherlock didn't fight anything and smiled up at John as he stared down at him. He returned the kiss, eyes closing immediately. He wrapped his arms around the army doctor's waist, pulling the other man closer to him. It felt wonderful to be in John's arms again. He wasn't sure how he had survived the last three months without it.
John slowly pulled away from the kiss, Sherlock's bottom lip between his teeth before he grinned. "Hi," he whispered in disbelief, one hand moving form Sherlock's hair to slide across his chest before settling on Sherlock's hip. He bit his bottom lip. Sherlock was beneath him and for the next two days he got to spend time with his fiance, the man he was going to marry. "How're you?" He lowered his mouth to suck on Sherlock's neck eagerly, determined to mark him.
Sherlock's body immediately responded to John's touch, squirming and writhing into the man above him. "Perfect now that I am here with you." One hand trailed along the army doctor's spine, the other coming to brush through the shortly cropped hair. There wasn't much to play with, so he scratched lightly. He seemed content to let John do whatever, and he didn't even fight for control. He was just happy to be here with his beloved doctor.
John hummed against the red mark on Sherlock's neck, smiling proudly. The hand against his scalp caused him to go limp for a long moment before he jumped into action. He slid down Sherlock's body with ease, ignoring the shirt and moving straight to Sherlock's pants. His hands worked quickly, yanking the pants down roughly, Sherlock's underwear yanked down with more intensity. There was a pause, one of John's hands spread against Sherlock's stomach just below his belly button, and John took the moment to look up at Sherlock with a predatory gleam in his eyes. He smirked because right now he was in control. He tilted his head and placed an open mouthed kiss on the side of Sherlock's penis, nipping softly at the skin as his free hand moved between Sherlock and the mattress to roughly squeeze his ass.
Once more his body reacted, squirming a little more frantically now. Sherlock let out a soft whimper of desire, hands coming to rest on either side of him and his hands grabbing the silky soft sheets. He smirked down at John. "Don't be too proud of yourself my dear doctor. I let you…this time…" His eyes closed once more, the smile still on his lips.
"Sure you did," John commented softly, his lips still on Sherlock's cock. His body wiggled against Sherlock's legs as he made himself comfortable. After one last glance at the man beneath him he opened his mouth and lowered it on Sherlock's penis, pulling up slowly with his tongue pressed on the underside. If Sherlock wanted to push the issue of control then John had a plan. He patiently bobbed his head, sucking lightly before letting a low hum escape from his chest. He stopped, Sherlock's cock halfway into his mouth, and reached out to grab one of Sherlock's hands, moving it to rest on the back of his skull.
Sherlock writhed in pleasure, but his eyes opened and peered down at John when he felt the army doctor move his hand. He quirked a brow, the smirk still there, although it held a bemused look now. He wondered what John could be up to now. He fell back against the pillow, eyes closing once more. He was most certainly curious, but he supposed he'd just have to wait and see. The thought made his whole body shiver, because it would probably result in something fun.
John smirked the best he could, bobbing his head several times before pulling away with an obscene slurp. He ran his tongue along his lower lip before his hand moved to stroke Sherlock with a light touch. His mouth pressed against the inside of Sherlock's thigh, his chin brushing against the waistband of Sherlock's underwear. After several kisses his head turned, nipping at the inside of Sherlock's wrist as he glanced at Sherlock from the corner of his eyes. "If you are so in control," he muttered, lowering his neck to run his dog tags across Sherlock's hip, "Then why are you laying here taking it?" He quickly took Sherlock back into his mouth, bobbing and sucking without a pattern, a small moan coming from his throat.
It didn't take long for Sherlock's breathing to become uneven and fast. His body squirmed from all the teasing touches. He whimpered lightly, his fingers clawing at the sheets and John's head. "Told you, I'd let you." He breathed out quietly; another smirk twitched itself upon the tips of his lips. His eyes remained closed, quite enjoying the all the sensations.
John pulled away from Sherlock again, moving up his body with a speed he'd only gained with muscle in the past three months. He roughly met Sherlock's lips as his hand wrapped around Sherlock's cock again, pumping with a slow rhythm but a tight grip. He pulled away from Sherlock's lips and moved to suck on his neck again as his hips thrust lightly against Sherlock's thigh. "It's because you're the submissive," he whispered against his neck, grinning proudly.
"Sometimes I am, not always." Sherlock managed to admit in between breaths. His body continued to twitch in pleasure. Since John was close enough to reach now, he began to nibble lightly on the army doctor's ear. His hand ran through John's hair lightly, its short, soft, fine hairs almost tickling the pads of his fingers.
John let out a soft moan at the feel of Sherlock's mouth on his ear. "Christ, missed that," he stated through clinched teeth. Despite how good it felt he pulled away from Sherlock's mouth and slid back down his body. He licked his hand before taking Sherlock into his mouth, his hand wrapping around the base of Sherlock's penis and working the part he couldn't reach. His other hand moved between Sherlock legs, one finger lightly running across his entrance as his eyes shot up to study Sherlock's face. He wanted to spoil the man beneath him, show him how much he missed him, and that was exactly what he was doing.
A small smile formed on his lips at John's words. Sherlock's back arched, completely tantalized by the several sensations his body was receiving. "Jesus…John…" A rare murmur of appreciative words escaped his lips. "Close…so close…" He uttered between breaths, until his breathing became so irregular words were no longer an option. His hand on the bed, gripped the sheets tighter still and the hand that had been on John's head was dangling off the side of the bed, gripping the side board tightly as well.
Did Sherlock just say something? John froze for a moment, nearly slack-jawed. That was new, something he hadn't expected but something he very much enjoyed. He blinked several times before bobbing his head again, sucking harder than he had been. A finger slipped into Sherlock's entrance with ease, a breath nosily escaping his nose as he started moving faster. The hand on Sherlock's penis moved to pry Sherlock's hand away from the side board, moving it back on to his head forcefully. John hummed several times as the finger inside Sherlock hooked in rhythm with his mouth.
Sherlock let his hand be moved back to John's head. He had to shift a little, so he could reach. It didn't take much longer for his body to tense and then relax as he came, with a growl. He panted heavily, trying to catch his breath. His tight grip on the sheets finally unfurled, his hand once more dropping to off the edge of the bed. He tried to form words but all that came out was raspy breaths.
John pulled away with a small gag, swallowing several times before coughing. He watched Sherlock's mouth for a long moment. Speechless. Sherlock couldn't speak. "Yeah, I know." He nodded with a smile and crawled slowly up Sherlock's body, shifting to fall right beside him. "I love you." The warmth of Sherlock's side was enticing and he curled against him, an arm resting protectively across Sherlock's chest. "How's the flat? And Hamish?" He asked softly. They had forgone any sort of catching up because John had been so eager to please Sherlock.
Sherlock snuggled into John immediately, lacking the energy to return the favor at the moment. His dangling hand once more found the army doctor's head, fingers running through the hair lightly. After a few moments he found his voice. "I love you too and that my dear doctor was amazing. Or maybe it had just been so long, I had almost forgotten what it felt like. The flat is about the same, although a bit duller with you gone. Hamish has gotten pretty big of late. He doesn't like Skype for whatever reason and always runs to a different room anytime I use the laptop. I'm hoping he'll grow out of the chewing and clawing everything stage as he gets older. Mrs. Hudson, although unhappy with him, has agreed to watch him while I am away."
"I don't think he likes me very much," John commented absently as he started lightly drawing shapes on Sherlock's chest with his finger. "All he does is hiss at the screen when we video call. He might get worse when I'm home." He arched his body slightly to place several kisses against Sherlock's neck. It was a simple thing, really, but he had missed doing it. Marking Sherlock had become one of his favorite things before he left. "Do you want to nap a bit?"
Sherlock couldn't help but laugh a little. "I don't think that cat likes anyone. I sometimes wonder if he even likes me at all. If he doesn't settle down by the time you are home, I will get rid of it." He fell quiet and let his eyes drift closed from the kissing on his neck. "No, want to stay awake and spend as much time with you as I can. I have a surprise for you. Originally, I was going to wait until our last day together but I don't think I can wait that long." He turned his head slightly, so he could give a quick and gentle kiss on the army doctor's lips.
John smiled against Sherlock's lips before pulling away, looking at his fiancé curiously. "A surprise?" Guilt was the first thing that shot through his mind. He hadn't gotten anything for Sherlock, he figured the two of them being together would be enough. "I- Yes. Right. Well," he licked his lips and met Sherlock's gaze. "I didn't get you anything. Is that alright?" He met Sherlock's lips quickly, a half-smile on his lips as he pulled away. "Now you've got me all nervous."
Sherlock smiled and gave another quick kiss to John, this time on his nose. "It's more than fine. If it makes you feel any better, I'm a little nervous about this myself. It isn't often I'm worried about what others think but I'm not sure how you will react…" He trailed off as he disentangled himself from the army doctor and rolled off the bed. He walked over to his carry-on bag, making sure his lanky frame obstructed the view of the other man. He picked his own ring and slid it into his jacket where the chain was located. He kept the other small box hidden in his hand, his hands behind his back as he walked back to the bed, purposefully walking slowly.
John watched Sherlock with interest, moving to rest on his knees as Sherlock turned around. A grin broke across his face and he impatiently moved off the bed, peeling the towel away from his body as he approached Sherlock and stopped to stand in front of him. "What is it?" He looked up at Sherlock and licked his lips, laughing softly. "C'mon, Sherlock." He wrapped his hands around Sherlock in a playful attempt to get at the gift.
Sherlock smirked, taking a few steps back as John tried to get the box. He brought a hand to the front to show the army doctor but it was empty. "Hmmm, nothing in that hand…let me see here…" He waited a few more moments for the sake of stretching the moment out. "Oh how silly of me. It is in my other hand." He brought his other hand forward, to finally reveal the small velvet box. "Go ahead open it." He smiled and watched John earnestly to gauge his reaction.
John watched Sherlock's first extended hand with a laugh, looking up at Sherlock with bright eyes. This side of Sherlock was nice. Playful, smiling. He was about to comment on it when his other hand was revealed. John looked at the box with wide eyes, glancing up at Sherlock before taking it gently in his own hands. "Sherlock," he muttered shakily, holding the box like it was extremely fragile. He swallowed hard as he opened it, making a small sound as he saw the ring and quickly shutting it. "God." He lowered his head and shook it fractionally, quickly looking up at Sherlock and smiling. He opened the box again to stare at the ring, clearing his throat and exhaling loudly. "It's... remarkable. Beautiful... how'd you..." he shut the box and reached his free hand up to yank Sherlock's head down, meeting his lips.
Sherlock smiled as he watched John. "The idea and design for the rings was mine…but Mycroft had them made. They are an early wedding present to us." He leaned into the kiss immediately and returned it gently. "I have one as well, same style. My name is engraved on the inside of your band, and yours mine. I know the desert is dusty and you probably won't get to wear it but I wanted you to have it now anyway."
John shook his head, pulling the ring from the box and slipping it on to his left ring finger. "I don't give a damn about how dusty that place is. I'm wearing this bloody thing." He looked up at Sherlock and shook his head with a laugh. "It's perfect. You're perfect." He placed a kiss on Sherlock's hand and then glanced toward the bathroom. "I plan on taking full use of showering without the desert around me. Care to join me, Mr. Holmes? I could clean you up a bit." He turned and started walking backward toward the bathroom, doing so in a rather smooth manner before tripping on his combat boots and falling to the ground with a small shout.