Author's Note:
Big news! I was talking to Audrey (my co-author) and we decided to make a third AND fourth fanfic after this one! This has about six or so chapters left. I'm so excited she wants to keep writing this with me! So much is going to happen in the next fanfics. I can't wait to share the next part with you all. And of course, a huge thanks to everyone who is reviewing!
Sherlock's next request was simple, understandable, and John nodded heartily in agreement. "I think we can both manage that." He tilted Sherlock's head up by his chin, lazily meeting his lips. "No more fighting. I've got five days left so let's just be happy." He let himself relax, yawning loudly and snapping his mouth shut with a grin. "Nap? I think that exhausted you." There was a smirk on his lips now, knowing and cocky. "I heard you gasp and whimper, felt you tense and try to keep yourself under control. You can't keep your hands off of me."
"Well, you are just so," Sherlock paused with a grin for effect, "'adorable,' as my mum says. It was hard not to." Another pause, his voice a little more serious at his admission, "wanted to make it last. Try something different rather than hurrying it." He gave John another hug. "Is there anything you want to do while you are home?"
Oh, wonderful. Now he was 'adorable.' John's eyes narrowed slightly. "I'm not adorable," he muttered with a bit of a glare in Sherlock's direction. Soldiers weren't adorable. Especially him. He let his eyes close and let a smirk tug at his lips. He wasn't entirely sure that his fiancé would like his next statement. "Not have sex," he whispered. "A lot of couples stop after they get engaged. Makes the wedding night more special. What do you think?" One eye cracked open to gauge Sherlock's reaction.
Sherlock arched a brow. "Okay, good thing you bought pie then otherwise we would have an over abundance of whipped cream." Up the ante? Sure why not, it had been John's idea after all. "Does that mean no sex talk via Skype and texts while you are gone then? Can you last that long?" He tilted his head up to smirk at his fiancé at the challenge he had just issued. Could he? Hmmm, probably. Little Sandi would be born soon, that would keep him preoccupied.
John playfully smacked Sherlock's chest. "Nothing," he said through a laugh. "Not through texting or Skype. Nothing at all!" The grin on his face grew and he tried to glance seriously at his fiancé. It was a good question. John was a very sexual man. He was before Sherlock and it carried into their relationship. "I think I can. Doesn't mean I can't jerk off. That isn't sex." He bent down and met Sherlock's lips roughly, determined to wipe the smirk off his face.
The smirk only got bigger and he pulled away from the kiss. "Oh no. You said nothing at all. So, no kissing…snuggling…should we sleep in separate beds too?" He disentangled himself from John, the smirk only bigger. He sat up, looking over at his fiancé. A new challenge. He always did like a challenge. He could do it, he was fairly certain. "Guess that means I should get dressed, hm?"
What? No. No. That wasn't part of the plan. John bolted up from his position, nearly tackling Sherlock and effectively pinning him. "You know what I meant," he stated with a laugh. "I'm sleeping in the same bed as you while I'm here." His arms wrapped tightly around Sherlock and he lifted his head to look at his fiancé sternly. "Just no sex. I want to kiss you and snuggle with you," one hand ran down Sherlock's stomach, "admire you." He placed a kiss on Sherlock's shoulder. "Don't be a git."
Another smirk crossed his lips. "So…if I begin kissing you like so…" Sherlock trailed off, leaned forward and nibbled lightly on John's neck. He wrapped his arms around the his fiancé in a small hug, one hand playing with the army doctor's hair and the other hand trailed along the back lightly. He moved his lips to John's ear, "This okay, then? You sure you are going to be able to resist my ravishing good looks and charm?" If his fiancé wanted to do this, he wasn't going to make it easy for the other man. He enjoyed teasing John far too much.
John's breath hitched in his throat and his free hand gripped tightly at the sheet next to Sherlock's shoulder. "'S fine," he muttered through clinched teeth. Perfectly fine. Wonderful. His eyes closed and he tried to force back a chuckle. "Yeah, I can," he whispered. "Not a problem," he added with a soft smirk. Of course he couldn't. No. Sherlock was perfect. Bloody perfect. How the Hell could he turn him down? "S-Stop." His lower body was already starting to writhe against the man below him without his consent.
"I don't think you mean that," Sherlock whispered in his ear. He wasn't ready for another go around by any means, but teasing and torturing John was a sheer delight for him. His fingers continued their light touches through the hair and down his fiancé's back. He kept his lips near the army doctor's ear, his breathing steady and purposefully expelling gentle hot air upon the ear's skin.
"I... No..." John went limp against Sherlock's body. Of course he didn't want Sherlock to stop but if they really wanted this to happen then Sherlock needed to stop teasing him. "But we can't have sex," he whispered as an afterthought, his voice low. Goosebumps spread across his back under the other man's touch and a soft moan pressed through his lips at the light touches in his hair. That was what he hated about Sherlock, that the other man knew exactly what John liked just by looking at him. Probably some weird way he walked or carried himself. While John had to learn through experiences and had to focus intently.
Sherlock spoke breathily into John's ear once more, "then I'll just tease you until you can't stand. Tease you until you beg me to stop." He gave a small laugh. "That will be different, hmmm? Begging me to stop instead of to keep going?" He had a feeling he was going to enjoy the next few days. He hugged his fiancé tightly briefly, enjoying the closeness of their bodies. "Just remember, snuggling and kissing was your idea. I am merely complying with your wishes, my dear doctor."
"I hate you," John growled as he lifted his head and met Sherlock's lips. He nipped at Sherlock's bottom lip with a small hum of victory before letting his tongue explore the other man's mouth eagerly. Two could play at that game. John wasn't a genius but he was fairly sure he could get the other man to go crazy as well. His tongue was slow and methodical before he pulled away, moving to latch on to his fiancé's collarbone. "You'll be begging, too," he mumbled against the skin.
"That's okay. I love you anyway," Sherlock replied with a bit of a smirk. Oh ho, so John wanted to play too? He matched the kissing pace set by his fiancé, when the kiss broke he spoke again. "I bet I can get you beg first." His fingers continued their light tracing through the hair and up down the other man's back. Since, John was marking his neck he tilted his slightly and began run his tongue along and in the army doctor's ear.
"Shit." John moved a hand to clamp on to Sherlock's side, clawing at the skin without a second thought. He would not break first. He always did but this time he was determined to make Sherlock lose their little game. "Bet you can't," he growled as his tongue ran up Sherlock's Adam's apple to the bottom of his jaw. His other hand moved to claw down Sherlock's side, rougher than he felt comfortable doing but hard enough that he knew Sherlock would like it. "You'll be first."
Sherlock's body arched from the scratching, despite the mixing sense of pleasure and pain. He stopped licking to whisper into John's ear. "You forget how quiet I can be. You are the one with a predilection for making noise. If I lose, I'll let you have complete control on the first night after the wedding. What do I get, if I win?" He gave light kisses from the ear down to his fiancé's neck, where he stopped to suck on it.
"Ah," John slammed his eyes shut and moaned softly. It ended in a gasp and a small whimper. "If you win," another moan and his hand tightened on Sherlock's side. "We can have sex once before I leave at the end of the week. That good?" He pulled away from Sherlock's mouth to meet his eyes, panting. What else could he give Sherlock? "Even against the windows," he whispered as he placed a chaste kiss on the consulting detective's lips.
For a moment Sherlock almost declined the deal until John threw in the window part. "Deal," he murmured and began sucking on the other side of the army doctor's neck. In his mind, he went over the human anatomy and where certain points were more sensitive to light touches on the body. Both hands slithered to John's chest and then slid down to the stomach. His fingers began to trail ever so lightly over the area in between the stomach and obliques.
The loud moan that John produced because of Sherlock's fingers even made him blush and he aggressively nudged Sherlock's head away from his neck before latching on to the man's ear. He nipped at the skin and pressed into Sherlock's touch without thinking, whimpering at the sensitivity of his skin. It was almost too much. He released Sherlock's ear and dropped his head to rest against the mattress, breathing hard and tensing his arms. "S-Yes, God, Sherlock." he sloppily ran his tongue across Sherlock's jaw.
Sherlock continued the light touches on the sides of the stomach. There were also sensitive areas on the back and even the back of the knee. The knee would be too much effort but, the back would be doable. He glided his fingers along to circle to the lower part of John's back, where his fingers danced teasingly along the area between the spinal cord and the curve that lead back to the stomach. When his fiancé's tongue ran along his jaw, he turned slightly to meet the other man's lips and began kissing eagerly. His tongue ran along the bottom lip before exploring the inside.
John returned the kiss without hesitation, grateful for the distraction from Sherlock's fingers. This was going to be tough. Sherlock knew exactly what to do to him and he couldn't tell him to stop. Losing wasn't something John Watson did. One hand moved to tangle in Sherlock's unruly hair, tugging it with a bit of force to end the kiss. It was then that something from the corner of his eye captured his attention. A wry smirk graced his lips and he reached one hand over to grab a can of whipped cream, shaking it as he met Sherlock's gaze. "Ready to lose?" He popped the cap off and leaned slightly to spray some on Sherlock's chest, moving down to eagerly lap it up.
How was that not cheating? Besides the time of accidentally dropping the cheesecake, John hadn't licked food off him before. He had been extremely turned on then and was now. However, Sherlock had been under the impression this was all supposed to be snuggling and kissing. Fine, he could cheat too. His eyes had closed and he fought to control his breathing. He thrust his hips into the man above him, fingers still managing their light tingling touches.
John's hand darted down to pin Sherlock's hips to the bed. "No," he growled, his eyes flashing dangerously. "Cheating," he whispered with a small grin. With a sure movement he put whipped cream up the inside of Sherlock's arm, taking his time to slowly lick it off. His eyes darted up and he smirked at his fiancé. "Do you like that, then?" He nipped at Sherlock's jawline.
"You cheated first," Sherlock growled back. "I was just evening the odds." Christ, it did feel good though. Despite the warning glance he had been given he thrust his hips into John again. His fingers trailed down to the army doctor's inner thighs and he began to trace along the skin there lightly. "If you get to use the whipped cream, I get to use other means of persuasion too." He smirked, thrusting his hips upward once more.
"Whipped cream isn't cheating." John lifted his head, his lips, chin, and the tip of his nose coated in white. "This isn't sex. It's kissing. That," his hand pressed harder against Sherlock's hip and he bit his lip to stay quiet. "That's cheating. That's sex." The touch on his inner thigh jolted his hips down into his fiancé and he did let a small moan out. "Ah, fuck." He licked up the rest of the whipped cream and then moved to meet Sherlock's lips.
It was hard to take John seriously with his face covered in whipped cream. Sherlock smirked and instead of kissing the army doctor, he moved so he could lick the residual cream off his fiancé's face. His fingers continued to trail along John's thighs and he couldn't help but buck once more into the man above him. After his fiancé's face was cream free, he began nibbling on the army doctor's ear.
It pained him, it did, but Sherlock's fingers on the inside of his thigh was the end of him. "Stop," he rasped, quickly grabbing Sherlock's wrist and yanking it up. "S-Stop, you win." His hips pressed down against his fiancé weakly and he bit his bottom lip. "You win," he repeated before dropping his head against Sherlock's shoulder. Fuck, he'd just given up. This wasn't good.
"Told you I would win. When we have sex against the window, I think we'll try a new position. I'll take you from behind, so all of London can see you plastered against the glass while I make you scream." Sherlock whispered into the ear he had just been nibbling on, his hands coming to wrap around John in a hug. He pulled his head back with a smirk, so he could look up at his fiancé.
A deep flush spread across John's cheeks, traveling down to his chest. "Don't want to think about it," he muttered as he looked down at his fiancé with narrowed eyes. "Go make some tea or something." He playfully pushed at Sherlock as he turned away so his back was facing the other man. "You've exhausted me and I think I need a shower." It was true. The bed sheets were sticking to him uncomfortably.
"I can't, I'm on bed rest remember? I'm not allowed to be up on my feet walking around." Sherlock's smirk got bigger. "How about this my dear doctor, an alternate price for the deal that you might find more to your liking? Until I'm able to walk around safely, you have to be at my beckon call. You can even buy me one of those bells, so if you are in the other room I can ring for you to come." Usually, he would never even entertain the idea of someone taking care of him but he was certain he could milk it to the point where he would be amused by the whole thing.
John rolled quickly on the bed to look at Sherlock. "You're kidding. You've got to be joking." His mouth opened and closed several times before he growled and rolled out of bed. "Fine," he muttered, one hand drifting down to cover himself. "But I swear if you wake me up in the middle of the night..." he dropped the sentence in favor of moving to the bathroom, turning the tap on and quickly stepping under the hot spray.
"You could have gone with the first option!" Sherlock shouted to John as he walked away. He put the handcuffs away and other items away. He then rolled off the bed, staying on his hands and knees. He stripped the sheets, found new ones and even though it was difficult to do on the floor he managed to put new ones on. He crawled back up onto the bed and waited for John to come back from the shower.
"Could do both," John replied softly as he left the bathroom, rubbing a towel over his hair with a sigh. "Or neither. Neither would be good." The towel ran down his body as he tried to dry himself off. "Apparently you had enough power to change the bloody sheets," he growled as he walked toward the bed, a wry grin on his face. "We'll do both. I don't think you'll actually follow through with the other one." He tossed the towel on the floor and climbed into bed, collapsing against his pillow with a happy sigh. "Hell, I could go for a nap. Again."
"I did it while on my hands and knees, if you must know. No, we are going to do what I suggested because I like the idea you running into the room every time I ring a bell." Sherlock replied with a smirk. Now he was just being stubborn. No one was going to tell him what he could and couldn't do. He instantly snuggled into John. He rested his head on his fiancé's shoulder. "A nap? You tire easily, do you know that?" He wasn't that tired.
"I'm aware," John replied through a yawn. "It's just... that was good." He placed a soft kiss on Sherlock's head. "And I really like sleeping, especially next to you." The subject of their debt being repaid was dropped in favor of his eyes closing. Sleep. He wanted to sleep. "Just an hour, yeah? Wake me up." He turned to lay beside Sherlock, wiggling down to press their foreheads together. "Love you."
Sherlock smiled. "Love you too. I'll wake you in an hour." He brought a hand up to run lightly through John's hair. He laid there, just watching his fiancé sleep. He tried not to think about anything. Luckily, Hamish came along to distract him. The cat curled against the inside of knees and his free hand reached to scratch the furry head.
It was dark and... Was he running? He had to be, he was breathing hard and sweating. Then he heard gunshots, whipping around just in time to watch Hollman fall into a pool of his own blood. And now he was shouting, crying, begging Hollman to look at him.
John shot up with a scream, "Hollman!" His eyes darted around the room as his mouth fell open, his chest rising in heavy pants. "Hollman," he repeated at a whisper, forgetting that he was at home, in London, and that his fiancé was laying beside him.
The scream startled Sherlock. He supposed he would never get used to John waking up from nightmares. It had also scared Hamish, as he jumped off the bed and ran out of the room. The army doctor didn't seem to realize that he was home. That he was safe. He reached a hand to gently caress the face of his fiancé. "John, easy. You are home with me. You had a bad dream." It was obvious what the dream had been about, so he didn't ask about it.
The touch to his face made John jump back slightly, eyes wide. Sherlock. His fiancé. Home. He didn't hesitate and buried his face into Sherlock's chest with small groan. "Sherlock," he stated through a deep breath, letting a few tears fall down his cheeks. "Sherl-" he clung tighter to the other man.
Sherlock enveloped John in a comforting hug. He placed a kiss on the other man's head, and then rested his own atop of it. He wished there was something to do, to prevent the army doctor from having nightmares. Well, he had offered but John had declined the hypnosis. Twice. No point in asking a third time.
"'M sorry," John whispered as he slowly pulled away. "Sorry," he repeated before running a hand sloppily across his eyes. "Didn't mean to scare you." This was embarrassing and John didn't want to be crying in front of his fiancé. "Tea?" He asked with a raspy voice. "Food, maybe?" He looked up at his fiancé and slowly moved to pull out of Sherlock's grasp.
"You never have to apologize for a nightmare, my dear doctor." Sherlock let his hands fall to his side as John pulled away. He leaned over and grabbed the bag with his medication and took two of the pills dry. Hopefully it would work quickly, because he wasn't sure how long he would end up being on his feet. Bed rest was annoying him already. He got up off the bed. "Come on. Let's get you something from the kitchen."
John watched Sherlock hesitantly before standing up himself. "Here." He moved to the dresser and tossed Sherlock his pajama bottoms. "Don't want to be indecent if Mrs. Hudson comes upstairs." He slipped his pair of boxers on and brushed past Sherlock without meeting his gaze. He didn't hesitate to put the kettle on, rummaging through the fridge. "Eggs?" He asked softly, the carton in his hands but his eyes on the ground.
With a roll of his eyes and a slight smirk, Sherlock put on the pants before following John out the kitchen. He wasn't hungry, he never was really. "Sure. Sounds good." He was about to sit down to get off his feet but instead he moved over to his fiancé. He wrapped him in another hug. "Do you want to talk about it?" They had briefly before but maybe there was something more John wanted to say.
John pushed the eggs on the counter and leaned heavily against Sherlock. "I am so scared it will be me," he whispered, wide eyes darting up to meet his fiancé's. "That I'll leave you and never see you again. And just watching it all over again, knowing the result." His arms wrapped lightly around Sherlock's lower torso. This was too much. He wasn't sure he could do this. "I'm sorry. Sorry, it's stupid."
Sherlock closed his eyes, it was a fear he had as well. The thought of only have ashes in an urn on the mantel the only reminder of John was something he tried not to think about despite the fact it was a very real possibility. Especially since the tour had been extended another three months. The tour was only half over now, but anything could happen in the next six to follow. "It isn't stupid." He didn't make the mistake of saying he worried about it too this time. He didn't want John to feel worse than he already did. Instead, he just hugged the army doctor close to him.
"It's scary," John whispered like a small child, keeping his eyes shut in hopes that he would stop crying. "You git," he looked up at Sherlock, laughing slightly and wiping at his eyes with the back of a hand. "Go sit down. Your feet must be killing you." He stood on his toes and gave Sherlock a quick kiss before turning toward the whistling kettle and pouring them each a cup of tea. It didn't take long but John had managed to cook the six eggs left in the carton and prepared each of their cups to tea. "Here." He slid the cup in front of Sherlock and sat down with his plate, taking several slow bites.
"Pain medication," Sherlock lied smoothly but walked over to a chair and sat down anyway. Hopefully the meds would kick in soon because even being on them for that short amount of time had been painful. He picked up the cup of tea and drank it quietly, watching John pensively from across the table. "You should go see Sarah and little Sandi today." The thought didn't exactly thrill him but his fiancé needed something to lift his spirits.
John looked up at Sherlock as he slowly finished a bite, swallowing and tilting his head to the side. "Why is that? I'm just fine here with you," he muttered, shrugging and returning to his food. "Need to take care of you," another bite, slow chewing, "Besides, I need to be here to make sure you are taking care of yourself." He shook his head at the thought. Seeing Sarah and doing everything an expectant father got to do didn't sound pleasing to him at the moment. Spending time with Sherlock seemed like a much better plan. "I've got things to take care of," he lied as he glanced at his plate.
No more fighting. Sherlock didn't want to fight so he didn't say everything he was thinking. It wasn't like he cared about Sarah anyway. He sighed at his thoughts. The woman was scared and alone. Someone should be there. John should be there. Everyone always accused him of the being the stubborn child, but sometimes his fiancé was one too. Why did it bother him so much? At one time, he would have commended the army doctor for distancing himself from others. After a moment of contemplation he realized what it was. One of the things that had drawn him to John to begin with was his compassion for others. He was upset because his fiancé had disappointed him by being a selfish git. No. No arguing. He remained silent, sipping on the tea and staring at the table.
The fact that Sherlock even mentioned to John that he should go see Sarah startled him a bit. How did he respond to that? 'Yes, wonderful. Let me leave you, my lovely fiancé, to go take care of the woman I cheated on you with.' That... just didn't sound right in his head at all. "Do... Will that upset you?" He asked, looking at Sherlock but keeping his head low. "I know you don't like her or this situation. I don't want to leave you for her. Don't think it'd be fair." He bit his bottom lip and pushed his half empty plate away, taking a slow sip of tea. "Will you be alright for a few hours?"
"It's fine John. If it wasn't, I wouldn't have suggested it," Sherlock said as he placed the cup of tea down and finally lifted his gaze to meet his fiancé's. A slight smirk tugged at his lips. "Besides, I'm sure Mycroft will show up at some point to make sure everything is okay. Especially since I tore out all the bugs he had placed in here awhile ago. At least, I think I got them all." He gave a slight dismissive shrug, the smirk growing.
John figured it must have been alright. What really pleased him was that he had started referring to Amy by name, or his own little nickname, over John's child or the infant. It made him smile softly. That smile quickly disappeared from his face at the mention of bugs. "You think you got them all?" He nearly dropped his tea on the table, hissing as some of the hot liquid sloshed over the side on to his hand. "You better have got them all, Sherlock! I don't want him hearing that!"
"I'm pretty sure I did, there is no way for knowing for sure without asking him." Sherlock replied, shrugging once more. He didn't have the heart to tell John, that it was entirely possible someone else could have listened in as well as it was unlikely Mycroft had time to sit and monitor the audio surveillance at all times. Probably someone who had screwed up somewhere and got stuck listening to it instead.
"Don't ask him," John whispered with a small smile as he stood up. "I'm going to go see Sarah then." He nodded and glanced around. "D'you want me to help you to the living room? We can get you a patch and you can sit and think about things. Maybe sleep. That pain medication should knock you out." He shifted and his boxers slid to hang low on his hips as he carried his plate to the sink. "Sound good?"
Sherlock smirked and then nodded. He got up off the chair and took the offered help by John without complaint. Once they made it to the couch, he plopped down on it and stretched out immediately. "I love you. Now go see our daughter." God, he really hated being an adult sometimes but he was getting better at it he supposed. Though, it didn't mean he had to like it. He probably never would.
John smiled down at his fiancé and met his lips in a soft kiss. "Love you too." He kissed Sherlock again, his heart beating fast at the fact that Sherlock had said our daughter. "I'll tell her you say hello." Changing into new clothes and getting ready didn't take long and soon John was out of the flat on his way to Sarah's.
Sherlock laid on his back, hands behind his head and staring at the ceiling after John had left. There wasn't a lot to do he could with his feet all tore up and the constant strain he kept putting on them by merely standing and walking on them. He wanted to go to his office but that really wasn't the best of ideas. As much as he hated it, staying off his feet was the best way to make them heal and he wanted to be back on his feet as soon as possible. Like John had said, eventually the pain medication kicked in and he dropped off to sleep.