Author's Note:
I got to upload a day early! Despite the fact I have worked almost 90 hours in two weeks and Audrey is busy doing college projects, it's amazing we have time to write but we make it work. We try to write at least (but usually more) two pages a day! Anyway, just some more Johnlock goodness. Thanks to everyone who is reviewing and subscribing! I am glad you all are enjoying this story as much as the last one!
Sherlock smiled and before stripping out of the rest of his clothes, put his ring on the necklace and around his neck. He turned in time to see John fall but not catch him. He was over there in few quick strides. He decided to take full advantage of the prone man on the floor. He smirked as he looked down at his beloved. He straddled John, knees coming to rest on the floor. He began to immediately suck on the other man's neck excitedly, a hand scratching the bare chest below him.
John had fully expected Sherlock to help him up but in one blink Sherlock was suddenly straddling him and God that mouth was on his neck. When he felt Sherlock's nails scratching down his chest he moaned, arching into the touch as he let his eyes slip closed. "Fuck," he hissed roughly, both of his hands tangling in Sherlock's hair and curling his fingers tightly in pleasure. It wasn't exactly glamorous but if tripping and falling got him this when he was back in London then he would have to do it more often. "Oh, God, yes," he nearly shouted as one hand traveled down Sherlock's spine before digging into his side.
Sherlock bit John's shoulder a little roughly before moving onto to explore the army doctor's ear. His one hand continued to scratch at the chest, the other lightly and teasingly outlining John's hips with the tip of his fingers. His lower body couldn't help but buck excitedly at the body below him. "Love you," Sherlock whispered before continuing his licking and biting assault all throughout the soft flesh of the ear.
"Love you too," John replied breathlessly. His body squirmed slightly under Sherlock's touch and he moaned as he felt Sherlock's body buck against him. "Love you so much," he managed to say between heaving pants. He let his hands run down Sherlock's back, sliding to rest on his thighs as he slowly lifted his hips up into the body above him. The sensation of just Sherlock was almost too much for him and he loved it. "Wish I hadn't sucked you off," he muttered as he ran his fingernails down Sherlock's thighs. "Then you could shag me right here on the floor." He turned his head to sloppily meet Sherlock's lips.
A wicked grin and a mischievous look came to Sherlock's face. "Guess, I'll just have to tease you until I'm ready again." He then leaned into John's kiss, his tongue seeking out the army doctor's immediately. His hand moved to trail down the inside of his hip, then began to trail lightly along John's leg. He broke the kiss, so he could slide with his hand that trailed all the way down to the other man's knee. His mouth began kissing down his chest and stomach, stopping just above John's belly button. He glanced up momentarily to look at John, that same look on his face. He began gliding his tongue along the same path his fingers had just taken.
John let out a small whimper when Sherlock pulled away from his lips, lifting his head to watch Sherlock. His eyes were locked on the other man, his pupils dilated. When Sherlock glanced up at him, he tensed the muscles he had recently discovered after too long patrols with an overly heavy backpack. Both of his hands struggled to find purchase on the carpet below him and he growled when felt Sherlock's tongue on his inner thigh. "Shit," he shouted as he threw his head back, his back arching off the floor. His hips bucked in several quick motions without his consent. "Ah, Sher-" he took a sharp intake of breath and grunted. "D-Don't stop."
Sherlock smirked, even though John couldn't see it. He suckled for a moment when he finally reached the inside of the knee. His hand that had been scratching the army doctor's chest, dropped down to the other leg that had so far had gone untouched. Light finger tips started at the knee and began to move up slowly, his tongue matching pace on the other leg. The two met in the middle, his hand deviating from course to lightly brush and outline John's cock. His tongue continued its curved course around to other knee.
Things like this had never been something John thought he would enjoy. Every time he had been with somebody it had been quick but Sherlock was here practically worshiping his body. The thoughts caused him to moan again, the sound escalating when he felt Sherlock's hand brush across his penis. He curled his hand into a fist and slammed it into the floor beneath him. "Ah, that feels good," he muttered aimlessly. His hips lifted again, seeking any sort of contact he could. "Sherlock. Bloody Hell."
Sherlock was rather pleased with himself. It was mostly for his dear doctor, but apart of him wanted to know every inch and curve of John's body. To commit it all to memory. Though admittedly he had no problem envisioning the army doctor. Chalk it up to his obsessive possession he had come to have for John. He crawled back up to his fiancé, yeah he liked the sound of that. He kissed the man below him on the lips, straddling John once more.
John choked on the next words that tried to escape his mouth, turning it into nothing but a loud shout. His hands moved to squeeze Sherlock's hips while roughly returning this kiss. "You're enjoying this," he ground out as he opened one eye to look up at Sherlock. The grip on Sherlock's hips tightened and John lifted his hips up with a satisfying moan. He nipped at Sherlock's bottom lip. "Ah, God, love you." He moved below Sherlock to suck at his neck, his hips starting a slow rhythm against the man above him.
Sherlock smirked behind the kiss, growling as John's grip tightened. He dipped his down to once more give biting kisses upon the army doctor's ear. He murmured belatedly, "I didn't hear you complaining." He found an unmarked spot on John's neck, and began to suck on it to rectify that. Between suckles he breathed out, "Love you too." His hands were on either side of John, finger tips trailing along the lean oblique's of the stomach. He matched the slow pace beneath him, because he still needed a little more time before he would be ready again.
Every sensation on his body was almost too much. Sherlock's fingers running down his side, the lips on his neck, and the warmth of the body above him were nearly causing his head to spin. John whimpered as his hips bumped roughly into Sherlock's, biting hips lips. "Fuck, I'm so hard." He moved his hands to claw at Sherlock's shoulder blades, pulling Sherlock's body down roughly in desperation. His fingernails dug into Sherlock's skin as his hips started to thrust faster. After a moment John reached between them and grabbed Sherlock's penis with a light touch. "C'mon," he growled, lifting his head to bite Sherlock's shoulder as hard as he could.
Sherlock had just enough time to brace himself against losing his balance, as John yanked him closer. Never before had the army doctor bit him so hard before. It hurt but it was a huge turn on and he growled loudly in response. His breathing immediately became spastic and he had to stop biting John's neck momentarily to regain some semblance of normal air flow. His hips ground anxiously and wildly, having no rhythm whatsoever. The desired effect came about though, his penis becoming firmer in his heightened excited state.
John managed a bit of a grin against Sherlock's shoulder as he felt Sherlock get hard. Perfect. "C'mon, Sherlock." He pressed his mouth against Sherlock's ear. "Fuck me," he snapped before nipping at his ear. His body went nearly limp beneath Sherlock's sporadic thrusts, taking it all with soft grunts. As much as he liked to tease Sherlock about their little games, about who was really the submissive, John loved to let Sherlock take him. Of course, he would never tell Sherlock that. He knew that's what Sherlock liked, being rough, and John would lay back and take it. He turned his head, biting roughly into Sherlock's neck and growling against his skin.
Sherlock smirked and waited it out a little longer, just to drive John crazy. He was in control this time and he was going to that make that perfectly clear. He finally calmed down just enough to let his hips find a quick but steady tempo. His tongue ran the length of John's neck and back up to his ear, making sure to explore every inch of it before the consulting detective began to bite it. After a few more minutes of teasing, Sherlock finally entered with a quick and sharp thrust.
John shouted, clutching at Sherlock's shoulder as he slammed his eyes shut. It had been three months and, Christ, Sherlock hadn't warned him or even went for the Vaseline. He wasn't going to walk at all tomorrow. He wrapped his legs around Sherlock's hips, locking his ankles against Sherlock's lower back. There was a moment where John thought he might not be able to handle it but as he pressed back against Sherlock and a moan escaped his lips he realized how much he had missed this. "Missed you being inside me," he forced out through quick pants. "Ah, God, missed you." He turned his head and kissed Sherlock softly, his eyes still tightly closed.
Really, in his excitement he had forgotten. That and Sherlock knew his cock wouldn't remain hard for terribly too long after being used again so soon. "Maybe that will teach you not to tell me what to do." He muttered into John's ear between raspy breaths, trying to pass it off as an intentional intent and not an accident. Like he suspected, he didn't last long at all. Four quick thrusts and he came, his body collapsing on John's immediately afterward, his body suddenly tired. He found enough energy to shift slightly, so he wouldn't be crushing the man under him and so he could finish John off. His hand found the army doctor's penis and began to pump vigorously. Gauging how hard John already was, it wouldn't be long for him either.
John grunted with each of Sherlock's thrusts, whimpering when Sherlock spoke to him. "S-Sorry," he stated through clinched teeth. The feeling of Sherlock's hand on his cock was bliss and he arched into the touch, coming with a loud shout and Sherlock's name on his lips. He went limp almost instantly, breathing hard. "G-Go-" he closed his eyes and let his arms fall on to the floor. "Going to do that again," he managed to stutter out. "When you can last longer." He didn't give a damn if Sherlock thought he was telling him what to do, they had two days and John wanted Sherlock. "That was more exhausting than bloody patrol," he whispered in Sherlock's ear, untangling his legs from around Sherlock's body.
Sherlock wiped the goop onto the floor, not caring that this was supposed to be a posh hotel where having class was proper decorum. His body relaxed against John's, his clean hand running lightly over the army doctor's head and into his hair. He rested his head on his fiancé's shoulder, eyes closing in contentment. "I missed this. I missed you. Missed it all. And you sure you are going to be able to go another round like that?" He opened his eyes, a slight smirk on his lips as he lifted his head just enough so he could look up at John's face.
John hummed contentedly and leaned into Sherlock's hand, one of his hands moving to draw shapes between Sherlock's shoulder blades. "Give me time to rest," he muttered as he opened one eye to glance at Sherlock. The smirk on his face was perfect. John had missed that. "I might be able to before we leave." If they couldn't then John would beg Mycroft for another day. "How is London?" He asked softly, tilting his head to get a better view of Sherlock's face.
The smirk on Sherlock's lips only got bigger and then he shrugged at the question. "Boring and uneventful." He continued to run his fingers through the short, soft hair. "Think the shower is going to have to wait my dear doctor. Pretty sure neither of us in any shape to go anywhere right now. That's okay though. Just laying here with you is nice."
"'S fine," John replied softly. The fingers against his scalp, through his short hair, was the best feeling ever. "'Cept I do want to shower as much as I can." He turned his head and softly kissed the inside of Sherlock's wrist. "Who knew laying on the floor could be so lovely?" There was a pause and John smiled softly. "D'you know how much I love you?"
"Couches are more comfortable than the floor, but with you here by my side it doesn't really matter." Sherlock replied as he snuggled closer still to John. "Hmmm. Enough to want to marry me…so I'm guessing at least a little." Once more he lifted his head to look at John's face, his eyebrows raised, a mischievous grin on his lips.
"I would do anything for you, Sherlock." John smiled softly and moved the unruly bangs from Sherlock's forehead. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want wake up every morning curled against you and hear you complain about murders. I want to go to bed every night with your heartbeat under my ear." He leaned forward and gently met Sherlock's lips. His cheeks were a bright red, the color spreading to the tips of his ears at the emotional statement.
Sherlock smiled and returned the kiss gently. "I know you would John." He was quiet a moment, emotional sentiment not really something he did often. Even after being with John and the changes it had brought about. If he could sit and talk to Mycroft without being uncomfortable finally, then this should be easy with the one he loved. "If it ever came down to it, I'd die for you."
"I hope it never comes to that," John whispered in reply. The thought of Sherlock dying, of being completely gone from his life, twisted his gut. He could never do it. John studied Sherlock's face for a long moment, moving to run a hand gently across his cheek. He wanted to take it all in. It would probably be another three months before he saw Sherlock again, if John managed to not get shot, and he wanted to take it all in. "You are absolutely breathtaking," he placed a soft kiss on the tip of Sherlock's nose. "I am the luckiest man alive."
Sherlock propped himself on an elbow so he could look back at John, a small smile on his lips. "You think so?" He continued to run his fingers through the army doctor's hair. "When do you want to have the ceremony? Mycroft wants all the details. I think he is more excited than we are." His smile twitched into a smirk.
John laughed, blinking several times. Ceremony. They were getting married. "Mycroft? Really?" He looked a bit confused. "What, have you actually been talking with your brother?" He asked in a joking tone before pursing his lips in thought. "I wish we could do it right away, the moment I land." Except that wouldn't exactly be possible and John knew he would need a break. "A week after I am back? Can you wait that long?" He met Sherlock's gaze, a smug smile on his lips. "What are we even going to wear? I've got to find... somebody to be there. Who's your best man?" The questions wouldn't stop, he had missed so much and they hadn't really talked about it when they had the chance to communicate with each other.
"Well, mostly about you. He insists we 'talk' at least once a week. I was a bit of a bear about at first. He is trying to make amends, I guess. We were terrible to each other growing up. According to him our mum wants to make a big deal out of it. She is always fussing over me about something or other. Really, I just want something simple. A week after you are back is fine. As long as I don't have to wear a tie, doesn't really matter to me what we wear. Mycroft is going to be my best man. Don't you want Harry there at least?" Sherlock finally stopped speaking to take a breath.
John took in everything that Sherlock said, smiled softly before chuckling. "Jesus, that was a lot of information." He let his hand drift down to rest at Sherlock's hairline, scratching lightly at his neck. "I mean, you'll have to dress nice at least. Not that you don't dress nice already, but," he swallowed hard and licked his lips. "I think you might have to wear a tie, Sherlock." What would he wear? He would be tan, bleach blonde and look nothing like himself. He would look like he did now, only cleaner he hoped. "I do want Harry there I just haven't talked to her since we got engaged. I've kind of been in the middle of a war," he stated with a smirk, giving Sherlock's hair a gentle tug to emphasize the point. "Wait, your Mum? She wants to be at the wedding? I've never even met her!"
Sherlock leaned into the scratching, eyes closing for a few moments before opening when he spoke again. "Why do I need to wear a tie? It's our wedding. Can't we wear whatever we want? Dress codes are stupid." He pouted momentarily and then smirked. "Well of course my Mum will be there. I would never hear the end of it, if she wasn't. I'm sure we can arrange a meeting when you are back at home, if you want. Knowing mum, she's already found out everything she possibly could about you from Mycroft."
"Please. I want to meet her before the ceremony," John muttered nervously, his chest suddenly tight at the thought. He had never really thought about Sherlock's family and how they might react to Sherlock marrying him. "I mean... so she probably knows everything about me. D'you think she approves of me, then?" He paused and lifted his head to study Sherlock. "Aside from that, I think you'd be handsome in a tie. Very dashing." Just talking about the ceremony, about marrying Sherlock, twisted his gut and made him smile for no reason. Married. How did he end up being so lucky?
"I don't think anyone would ever be good enough for me in her eyes." Sherlock said with a roll of his eyes. "But…I think she'll just be happy I'm settling down and getting married. I think she had given up hope on that awhile ago." Once more he pouted, "John I don't want to wear tie." Not only did he hate them, but he also had no idea how to tie one. He had never bothered to learn how. It wasn't something he deemed important enough to remember.
"Oh," John seemed to deflate a bit at that comment. "You should have lied to me. Now I'm even more nervous. What if she says I can't marry you? I don't mean to be rude but does she know that... I mean, about men a-and." He bit his bottom lip and closed his eyes. This wasn't exactly how he pictured the parent conversation going. "I just want to impress her. I want her to like me, is all." This was like secondary school all over again. Nervously meeting parents and assuring them they would be home before ten, and yes, he did intend to be gentleman. "I've got some pictures for you," he muttered in order to change the subject. "Want to see them? They're ones that Mycroft doesn't have."
Sherlock frowned a bit and he moved toward John, so their noses were touching. "No worries my dear doctor. I'm sure she'll love you." He got a crooked smirk and then said, "If she doesn't approve we could always do what the Americans do and run away to Las Vegas and elope." He gave John a quick, light kiss on the lips before moving his head away. "Hmm, pictures of you that not even my brother has? Should I be worried?"He smirked once more.
John returned the kiss with a laugh. "Then she would really hate me," he replied against Sherlock's lips. "Also, tell Mycroft's photographer to stop snapping that blasted camera when I am unclothed. That's all he seems interested in. The moment my shirt comes off, the moment I'm heading toward the river," a pause as he narrowed his eyes at Sherlock. "I have a feeling it was requested. And that I'm not supposed to know." After studying Sherlock's face for a moment he stretched his arm out and yanked his bag closer to them, wiping his hand on the carpet to get rid of the dirt before grabbing a few pictures. "We had some American photographer come with us on patrol, stayed at camp for a few days. I managed to get some copies from him."
There were four, all kept as clean as possible in a sandwich bag. He pulled them out and spread them across his chest. One was of John kneeling, his sunglasses off but the rest of his armor on, with his arms around two young children. He was grinning and the young girl on his right was hugging him tightly, the other kissing his cheek. "Both had a bit of a flu. Helped take care of them," he whispered, looking up at Sherlock for a moment. The next one was clearly taken at sunset, John was mid-air with a Frisbee in his hand. The next two were clearly taken one after the other. John had his hands on his hips, head lowered with one foot kicking at the ground and the next shot had him smiling widely at the camera. "I... wanted you to have them. Better for you to hang on to them in case... y'know." He kissed Sherlock's forehead and grabbed one of his hands, squeezing tightly.
Sherlock shook his head. "It wasn't requested by me. In fact, I told Mycroft you would probably prefer it if your clothes were on in the photos. Maybe the photographer has a thing for you." Or his older brother was a creeper. It didn't really matter to Sherlock, but John would most certainly have a negative reaction to knowing how Mycroft actually found out they were engaged. He looked over the photos. He was certain his heart stopped for just a fraction of second at the last words spoken by the army doctor. He squeezed the hand back tightly, then carefully moved the pictures so he could embrace John in a hug. He stayed like that awhile, their bodies against each other, his arms wrapped around his fiancé, and his head resting on John's shoulder.
John tightly embraced Sherlock, closing his eyes and forcing his tears back. He needed to be strong. Crying in front of Sherlock wouldn't do any good in this situation. "I love you," his voice shook, cracked, and he felt a tear run from his eye into his hair. The thought of dying shook him to the core and it was a brand new experience. Last time he didn't have anybody to return to but now... this could be the last time he saw Sherlock. "Don't you ever forget that, Sherlock."
Sherlock had to close his eyes tightly, to keep it together. Sometimes he hated all these emotions that came with being in relationship. In particular, moments like these, where it was damn near crushing to his very soul. He let out a shaky breath. "I love you too." He kissed the top of John's forehead and finally released him from the hug.
John swiftly wiped the back of his hand across his eyes to hide the tears from Sherlock. "D'you want to order room service and watch crap telly?" He asked with a raspy voice, keeping his head cast the side as he tried to gather himself. Strong. Stay strong. Keep Sherlock happy. His chest moved in several quick breaths before he stood up and moved to the bathroom, shutting the door roughly and falling heavily against the door. He couldn't do this. Seeing Sherlock now was just like teasing, holding something above his head that he couldn't really get. He slid to the floor and let out a small hiccup, burying his head between his knees.