Author's Note:
Just more fluffy Johnlock hotel scene. My favorite chapter is the one after this one. For those of you follow my Tumblr, chapter ten is the strawberry cheesecake chapter. Oh! Fun fact: Sometimes I post spoilers and behind the scenes stuff for this story (and the previous one) on my Tumblr if you are into that kind of thing. Now that I am done with some shameless self promotion, I would like to thank those who left amazing and kind reviews!
John tried to keep himself calm but the idea of a real, proper meal was causing him to lurch forward and snatch menu from Sherlock's hands. "Jesus, that sounds great," he groaned, reading the menu and shifted on the bed. He straddled Sherlock's hips without a second thought, relaxing against him as he grabbed the phone and dialed the extension. There was a pause as he just stared at Sherlock, waiting for somebody on the other line to answer. "Yes, hello, Captain John Watson, room 322," another pause, "Can I get a bottle of champagne with two glasses, uh," he laid the menu out on Sherlock's chest and ran his finger down each column, "Aaaand the chicken pasta, a bottle of beer, and three slices of cheesecake?" There was a pause and John nodded. "Yes, that's correct. Thank you." And with that he hung up the phone, slid the menu off of Sherlock's chest, and looked down at him triumphantly. "Did you just watch me sleep then?" He asked softly, a finger trailing light down Sherlock's sternum.
Sherlock watched John with a slight grin on his face. So proper and polite on the phone. "I didn't want anything anyway." He said after the army doctor had hung up, the grin getting bigger. "Yes, for the most part." He decided to leave out the part of all the worrying he had done in the first hour or so John had slept. His fiancé had enough going on to worry about him being worried as well. "What do you want to do while we wait for your food to arrive?" The grin twitched into a smirk.
"Sherlock, I ordered three pieces of cheesecake," John stated with a sigh and a playful roll of his eyes. "And I intended for us to share the chicken pasta. Thought it'd be romantic," he grinned. That smirk. John was nearly powerless against it. He bit his bottom lip. "I could snog you until you can't breathe," he whispered with a mischievous grin. "I could suck you off and attempt to make you, finally, scream." he lowered himself to place a soft kiss at the center of Sherlock's chest, looking up at him with a cocked brow.
"Here I thought you were just very ravenous." Sherlock said, his smirk getting wider by each word he spoke. "Well, knowing that you want me to scream makes me not want to. Believe it or not, I have a considerable amount of will power when I chose to be stubborn. I'd like to see you make me try." He arched his own brow back at John, to see if the army doctor would accept the challenge.
John sat up, a sure look on his face. "Fine." He shrugged, biting his bottom lip. "You're going to scream so loud that people in the lobby are going to hear you," he whispered as he bent down and gently met Sherlock's lips. His hand snaked between them and confidently gripped Sherlock's penis, giving it a few soft strokes. "And you will like it," he ended the sentence by biting down on Sherlock's bottom lip.
"We'll see about that my dear doctor. Do your worst or best in this case, I guess." Sherlock's smirk was rather large at this point. He could have been the Cheshire Cat. His body rocked in time automatically with John's strokes. He bit back and then began kissing the man above him roughly. His hands came to rest on the army doctor's back, and he began to scratch up and down. Not lightly, but not quite hard enough to leave a mark.
John gasped into the kiss, slamming his eyes shut as Sherlock scratched as his back. "Christ." He pulled away from Sherlock's lips and moved to his neck, kissing lightly with a knowing smirk. Sherlock wanted it rough. He wanted everything rough. So he would drive Sherlock positively insane by taking his time and being gentle. John slid down Sherlock's body with ease, pulling his hand away and placing gentle kisses along the inside of Sherlock's thigh. "I missed you," he whispered, looking up at Sherlock as he placed a kiss on the inside of Sherlock's hip bone. "Missed this. How beautiful you look." He ran a hand lightly down Sherlock's side. "How easily you respond to everything."
Sherlock's body squirmed at the light touches and kisses, only helping to prove John's point. He closed his eyes and tried to keep his breathing steady. Even though he had let his fiancé take control for this round, didn't mean he'd make it easy for the other man. His hips began bucking incessantly into John. He had thought about pulling John's hair, but it was much too short to actually accomplish.
John moved his hands swiftly, tightly pinning them against the mattress and lifting his head to look at Sherlock. "No." He growled aggressively, his eyes narrowed. "Move again and this is over," he added as he slowly moved his hands away from Sherlock's hips and his eyes dropped back to Sherlock's cock. He lowered his mouth, running his tongue along the underside and stopping right at the tip, gazing at Sherlock smugly. He moved lazily to take half of Sherlock into his mouth, sucking lightly before pulling away completely and placing kisses along the side. "Do you understand?" He asked softly.
"Hey, this was your idea…remember? That you wanted to make me scream so loud the lobby can hear. If you quit, you lose." Sherlock matched John's gaze, that every cocky smirk returning to his lips. He bucked roughly again, just to be the petulant child he often was. "Your move, Doctor."
"Bastard," John muttered before taking Sherlock into his mouth again. The argument was valid but John wouldn't admit that. He had wanted to control the situation but, like always, Sherlock had managed to keep himself in control. Even when it was John's idea in the first place. He sucked as hard as he could with every bob of his head, humming as he pulled away with a small cough and used his hand for a moment. "It would be cruel, wouldn't it, to just leave you like this?" He asked softly, his eyes darting up to look at Sherlock. His hand froze completely and he shrugged. "Beg for it, Sherlock."
Sherlock only smirked bigger but it was replaced by a smile of contentment when John began sucking on his penis. He cocked an eyebrow at the army doctor and then shook his head. "If you don't finish me off, I will. Won't be the same, but it'll have the same result and you still lose. So, by all means, go ahead." He was rather enjoying this new game they had stumbled upon. His gaze never left John's, his smirk never wavering. "However, if you continue and win successfully I promise that I will give you complete control for one time while we are here at the hotel."
This was not supposed to happen. John took several deep breaths. The offer was there, though. Complete control before they had to leave. Fine. If Sherlock wanted to play like that then John would be more than happy to accept the challenge. He moved to quickly take Sherlock back into his mouth, moving slower this time. He stopped sucking and used just his tongue, pressing Sherlock's cock against the top of his mouth as he pulled away and then lowered his head quickly. He was going to make Sherlock scream. He needed to hear it. He pulled away for a quick second to wet his fingers, moving back down as his hand shifted between Sherlock's ass and the mattress. Without glancing at Sherlock he pressed two fingers into his entrance as roughly as he could, moving in until his knuckles stopped him from going any farther.
Sherlock studied John, knowing full well his fiancé wouldn't be able to pass up on the offer. He finally let his head drop back onto the pillow when he felt the army doctor go back work. His eyes closed and as soon as John's fingers penetrated his breathing became staggered. One arm rested across his forehead and the other dangled off the side of the bed, clinging tightly to the sheet, causing it to detach from the mattress.
It shouldn't be this hard to get somebody to shout in the middle of the most pleasurable experience of a relationship. And yet, here was Sherlock managing to do the impossible. John pulled away with a deep breath, moving his fingers roughly a few times as he tested his cheek on Sherlock's hip. "I know you want to, Sherlock," he whispered, his fingers moving forward as rough as he could manage. Christ, was he going to have to recite the entire periodic table for this to happen? He took Sherlock back into his mouth, going as far as he could before he gagged and pulled back slightly.
Never, would Sherlock admit it but the reason he purposed the challenge was because he thought it would be interesting to be completely submissive. Unmoving, unless directed otherwise. He couldn't scream too soon, John may figure it out. Was he really going to let the army doctor win? Probably. It really did feel amazing. Jesus, it felt bloody fantastic. He had a considerable amount of self control going on. His eyes were squeezed tight out of pleasure and to help him keep focused. The arm across his face, was so John couldn't see it and possible figure out what he was thinking. He growled as he felt the pressure rising. John always seemed to scream when climaxing, so that'd be a good time. Nothing unusual about that, right? His body tensed, his back arching as he came. His mouth opened, releasing a shout of pleasure at a volume that even surprised himself. Perhaps he wasn't pretending as much as he liked to make himself think he was. His body relaxed, and he laid their motionless as he panted for breath. He thought about making a cocky comment but best to stay quiet, let John think he had won without any help on his part.
John closed his eyes, swallowing everything before pulling away and resting his head on Sherlock's thigh. "Christ, that was hot," he muttered as he took several deep breaths. Sherlock had made a noise. Not just a noise, either. A loud yell, louder than even John had intended. He opened his mouth to reply when a knock at the door caused his stomach to lurch. Food. He was out of the bed in a flash, yanking the blanket over Sherlock's legs and torso as he quickly wrapped a towel around himself. The door opened and John took everything he ordered, muttering a polite 'Shukran' before shutting the door, depositing the food anywhere he could manage, and jumping back on to the bed. "Glorious," he muttered, meeting Sherlock's lips with an eager grin. "That was... you sounded..." he shook his head and kissed Sherlock again.
When the knock at the door came, Sherlock couldn't help but laugh in between breaths. His eyes were still closed, with his arm still spread across his forehead. His eyes finally opened when John kissed him, his arm lifting a bit so he see the man above him. He smirked a bit and then shrugged. "If the lobby didn't hear me, then the server certainly did and everyone knows anyway." The smirk only got bigger as he spoke.
John hadn't thought about that and a blush instantly spread across his cheeks. That poor young man had probably heard Sherlock shouting. "Oh," he swallowed hard and bit his bottom lip. How embarrassing. "We're probably going to be banned from this hotel at the end of this little vacation," it was stated with a hint of humor, a smirk on John's lips that was forced. He bent slightly and grabbed the cold bottle of beer, opening it and quickly taking large gulps. "Ah, Jesus." He closed his eyes and placed the bottom of the cold bottle on Sherlock's stomach. "That's amazing. I missed beer." He lifted the bottle and took another gulp. "So, you hungry after all that?"
"I hope he did." Sherlock said, knowing full well that John was embarrassed. "Doesn't really matter to me. No shame, you know. Wouldn't bother me who was watching or heard, not even my brother." Shit. Those were a poor choice of words. He continued speaking, hoping John hadn't noticed. "Eat what you want. I'll just eat whatever is left over." The beer bottle was extremely cold compared to the rest of his body and he shivered slightly.
John was half bent over the side of the bed, straddling Sherlock the best he could, when he replayed Sherlock's words in his head. Brother. He snapped up so fast spots appeared in his vision. "What? I'm sorry... What?" He licked his lips and narrowed his eyes. "Brother? Did you say... Sherlock, has Mycroft heard us when we..." He paled considerably, his eyes going wide. "Oh, God, Sherlock... You've got to be kidding me." He placed the beer bottle on the bedside table rougher than he intended. "How many times?" He asked in a low voice. "And why didn't you tell me?"
Luckily Sherlock was quick on his feet when it came to thinking and he replied without missing a beat. "I was referring to the time he was present the first time you gave me a hand job." It was mostly the truth. He didn't deny the allegations, so he couldn't be accused of lying later.
"You weren't very loud..." John's eyebrows knitted together before he stopped himself, glancing off the bed and focusing on the floor. This trip was about them. He didn't want to fight or cause any trouble. Even though he hated to admit it, this could be the last time they saw each other. It needed to be happy. Unforgettable. Fighting would only ruin things. "Alright, I believe you," he stated softly, smiling before leaning down and meeting Sherlock's lips. Without another word he grabbed the food, sliding to sit beside Sherlock with the large bowl of chicken pasta. He dug in eagerly, his face low and his fork putting food in his mouth before the previous bite had been swallowed. "You been eating?" He pushed his food to the left side of his mouth, speaking from his right as he glanced at Sherlock. "Back at the flat, I mean?"
Okay, now Sherlock was starting to feel bad. The words 'I believe you' cut like a knife. He sighed, eyes closing once more. He didn't want to do this now. Do it here. This wasn't how the time spent together was supposed to go. He was quiet a long time, weighing the options in his mind. "John…" he trailed off, sighing once more. "…he did listen in once. The night we got engaged. I don't know if he has done it since. I didn't want to say anything because I know you like your privacy about that sort of thing and I didn't want to embarrass you." He opened his eyes so he could look up at John, "I'm…sorry…"
Listened. More than once, possibly. John flushed, a deep red that spread to the tips of his ears and across his chest, managing to show even with his tan. "Oh," he squeaked. He didn't know what else to say. So, Mycroft had hear them. Not only that but Sherlock had tried to hide it. Except, really, he had fessed up in the end and told him. "We-Well, he got quite a show then?" He swallowed the food in his mouth with a grimace. "Don't think I'm too hungry anymore." His eyes locked on the food distastefully and he shifted to reach across Sherlock and grab his beer. One wasn't going to cut it. He might need a second. He wanted to shout, yell, ask Sherlock why he didn't tell him the next time they talked. He could see Sherlock's perspective though, trying to protect him. It was almost endearing. Almost. "Thank you for telling me." He flashed a quick, tight smile at Sherlock. "Just... make sure he doesn't do it again, yeah? Kind of a private thing between the two of us and it's rare with the lack of personal time I have." He leaned over a placed a kiss on Sherlock's cheek before finishing his beer.
Sherlock watched John's nonverbal cues as well as listened to what the other man had to say. Well, that went better than he thought it would. Once again, his fiancé had taken the mature route. "I'll talk to him when I get home." Not for the first time, Sherlock wondered if maybe Mycroft had a thing for John. All the pictures, a lot naked even though he had asked otherwise on behalf of the army doctor. He could have opted not to listen in at any point. Would John leave him for someone else? Lestrade had done so easily. He had never seen the army doctor in a long term relationship before. The thought made his chest tight. He didn't like this thought process and he tried to halt it, but now all he could do was worry.
After a pause of several moments John dug eagerly back into the food, managing to stop himself with half of the bowl gone. He needed to be polite, save some for Sherlock. He parted with the bowl, setting on the ground, and grabbing two slices of the cheesecake with a boyish grin. With the fork mid-air John noticed Sherlock. Worried, thinking... scared? "Sherlock, you okay?" He asked softly, the fork hitting the plate as he pushed the dessert to the side. "Hey, Sherlock, come back here." He curled his hand under Sherlock's chin and turned his face. "What's wrong?" He searched Sherlock's face worriedly.
It wasn't until John turned his face that Sherlock realize he was being spoken to. He tried to answer but he choked on his words. He cleared his throat and his gaze drifted to the wine bottle. He hadn't had a drink since he had gotten drunk at Lestrade's flat. The temptation was certainly there and staring him right in the face. His blue-grey eyes glance back over to John. "I'm just worried about a few things, is all. I'll be fine." He didn't want to explain further because he had worked so hard to help calm his fiancé down once already. He didn't want his dear doctor worrying as well.
"Nope. No, that's not how a relationship works, Sherlock." John moved to straddle Sherlock again, deciding almost instantly that this was the most comfortable position. It was also convenient, Sherlock was nearly forced to look at him. "Let's talk. Couples have to do this," he paused and took a deep breath. "So, I'm a bit upset that you didn't mention Mycroft hearing us on Skype, alright? But, y'know, I see it from your perspective," a shrug, a smile, "You wanted to protect me and in your mind, your glorious, genius mind, you were doing the right thing." He brushed his thumb across Sherlock's cheekbone. "See? Now tell me, Sherlock. What're you thinking about? It's distracting you. You can tell me."
Of course John wouldn't let him off that easy. Sherlock tried to think of the best way to phrase it, and once more he was quiet for awhile. He trailed a finger a long John's leg idly, still lost in thought. He couldn't seem to find the words he was looking for so eventually he just started talking. "It's stupid really. I'm worried you'll leave me, like Lestrade left Mycroft. Get bored with me. You've never been in a serious relationship since we've met. Then there is the strange fascination my brother seems to have with you. Well, not strange because I understand why so many people seem to be drawn to you. I don't know. My mind is all over the place right now."
John listened to Sherlock and took a deep breath when he was done speaking. Right. "Why don't we tackle those in order of least ridiculous to extremely important." He nodded and smiled softly at Sherlock's finger on his leg. "I will never ever leave you for your brother. Ever." With that out of the way John thought about Sherlock's other worries. Ones that were justifies with Sherlock's logic. "I don't really know how... Bad it must look, me bouncing from one person to another." He licked his lips. "But I'm marrying you, Sherlock. Not anybody else. You're the one I'm with and nothing is going to change that. I love you." It was stated so simply, like it was obvious and the entire world knew it. "I promise. And I know the thing with Sarah hurt you and I've learned. I'm not going to ever do that again." He twisted his mouth slightly to the side. "It will always be you."