Author's Note:
I've lost count on how many hospitals these two have suffered through on the account of my writing. Anyway, my thanks to all you lovely reviewers out there!
For a few hours John just slept, his chest moving steadily and his heart monitor staying calm. Then John's eyes opened slowly, everything around him slightly blurry. He took a deep breath and groaned slightly, turning his head and calming slightly when he saw Sherlock. He looked worse than John thought and he winced. He hadn't done a very good job of protecting his fiancé. "Are you alright?" He asked softly, glancing at the I-V in Sherlock's arm.
After awhile Sherlock let his mind wander. When John spoke it startled him out of his reverie. He gave a small reassuring smile. "I will be fine. Just a weak pain medication. Probably don't want to give me anything stronger, so I won't fall asleep." He shifted to a partial sitting position, so he could see his fiancé better. "How are you feeling my dear doctor?"
"I've been better," John stated with a smirk. He tried to sit up but couldn't move very well, instead settling for relaxing further into his bed. "Sherlock, I am sorry. For everything. This and being kidnapped... and getting jealous." He swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat and closed his eyes. Things were supposed to be different for them, perfect and happy because they were a family. "You deserve better than sitting in some hospital in Egypt."
Sherlock frowned. "John, none of this is your fault." It was his. He shouldn't have let his guard down just because he was in a hospital. He should have been more aware of what was going on. Should have protected his fiancé. He thought he had learned by now that at any moment, anywhere they could be gotten to. That probably sounded paranoid to most, but so far it had been true. He wouldn't make that mistake ever again. He was pretty much suspicious of every single nurse and doctor that entered the room.
John couldn't help but laugh softly, shaking his head. How was this Sherlock's fault? He wasn't the one who had gallivanted off into a war to get kidnapped, which had really started all of this. Right now they shouldn't be arguing. "I love you. So much. And despite how bad that situation was, I'm glad you were there," he paused and took a deep breath. "I don't think I would have made it through."
Sherlock gave a slight smile. "I love you too. And I'm glad I was there with you as well." That probably seemed strange, but it was true. It was better than being stuck in London, not knowing and constantly worrying. It was because of things like this happening he wanted to keep little Sandi at home and safe forever. Now probably wasn't the best time to bring it up though, so he kept his thoughts to himself for the moment.
After a long moment of staring at Sherlock, John let his body go nearly limp. He could relax, not worry. Sherlock was safe, they were both getting treated medically and at some point they were going to go back home. The thought of Amy made his heartbeat pick up and the monitor indicated it loudly. "How is little Sandi?" He smirked at the use of Sherlock's nickname for her. "A right terror yet?"
Sherlock smirked. "She is actually very well behaved. So far anyway. Do you want to wait a couple months to get married? That way you can spend time with her first before going on our honeymoon. Speaking of the honeymoon, how about southern Italy? I am sure we can find some place secluded down there." His smirk got bigger.
Wait? At this point John wanted to get married now. He wanted to know that Sherlock was his husband, go to bed every night knowing that. Except in their current situation, with so many injuries, it might be smarter to wait. "Yeah, that would probably be best," he muttered before a blush took over his cheeks. Secluded. John knew what his fiancé meant with that smirk. "Hush, you," he chuckled and nodded in agreement. "That would be good. Yeah. Very good. I want a beach, y'know? I have always wanted to make love on a beach. What better time than to do it with my husband?" A warm smile tugged at his lips and his hand twitched, desperate for contact with the other man. They were in separate beds and both needed to rest. He couldn't be needy now.
"We don't have to wait. If you really want to, I am sure they have a priest or someone who can marry us now. Forgo that silly formal ceremony. Once released just go to Italy and find someplace perfect. Although, I am pretty sure my mother would kills us both." Sherlock smirked again. It didn't sound half bad to him though. He was certain Mycroft would yell at him with that constant disapproving look he got when Sherlock did something that wasn't terribly socially acceptable.
Oh that sounded wonderful. Perfect. Except... Sherlock's Mum had put so much work into the wedding and, despite Sherlock's obvious disdain for the ceremony, John was excited. "I... that does sound wonderful, Sherlock. It really does. But don't you think your Mum needs this? Let's make her happy. I mean...why don't we wait just a week after we get back? Our wedding night might not be more than hand jobs but I want to get married."
So close. Oh well. If John could wait then he could too, Sherlock supposed. "Sounds good." Just hand jobs? He wasn't sure he had that kind of self control. The deal not to do anything sexual already had him restless. When he had become so driven and needy for sex? Pathetic, he thought to himself bitterly.
"Oh, don't look like that." John shook his head with a small laugh. "I have got three broken ribs, you've got at least one. I've been shot and you have a bloody concussion. Do you really think we will be able to do anything else? It would have to be so slow." And while that sounded very appealing to John, he knew his fiancé would want a little more. He noticed Sherlock was already tense. "C'mere," he muttered. One hand job before the wedding for Sherlock would be better than flat out waiting.
"Slow sounds good. It would be nice. The last time we did that, it was amazing. I wouldn't mind a repeat." Sherlock smirked a bit. He didn't need to be told twice and he got out of the bed, pulling the I-V stand along with him, the wheels squeaking. He snuggled in next to John almost immediately, being careful to be gentle on the wounded man's body.
The moment Sherlock was next to him John felt himself relax. It was perfect, just snuggling with him. "Don't be too loud, which isn't a problem for you." He smirked as his left hand moved over his body and moved deftly into Sherlock's pants, grabbing his penis with a knowing touch. "Just relax. You need this." He placed a kiss on Sherlock's temple as his hand started a light and slow rhythm.
Sherlock didn't have the will power or inclination to tell John to stop. The deal suddenly just didn't matter to him at all. His body squirmed into his fiancé's. He tilted his head up and began kissing and nipping lightly on the army doctor's neck. He had missed this kind of closeness with John. He had a strong urge to mount his fiancé but given the other man's current physical state probably wouldn't be the wisest of moves right now. He settled for snuggling closer to John's side.
John took a deep breath to calm his heart monitor as he felt Sherlock's mouth on his neck. His hand tightened around Sherlock's penis, the strokes still long and slow. Clearly his fiancé enjoyed it, he had already started to relax and now he was close to the man he loved. He took a shaky breath and moved his hand in three fast strokes, smirking into Sherlock's hair.
Sherlock whimpered quietly. He moved up the length of John's neck to his jaw and then up to his ear. His body continued to writhe into his fiancé excitedly. He brought a hand to the army doctor's hair, fingers scratching the scalp gently. His other hand, slid up the hospital gown, to trace up and down John's chest lightly.
Sherlock's touch was like fire on his skin and he hissed, wishing desperately that the bandages weren't on his chest so he could feel Sherlock's skin on his own. "Like that, do you?" John growled softly, biting his bottom lip as his fiancé's mouth traveled to his ear. He whimpered softly and regretted it as his heart monitor slowly started to pick up.
Sherlock stilled the moment he heard the heart monitor go off. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. God, it felt good though. "John, we should stop. You are in no shape to being do this." He whispered into the army doctor's ear. He let his hands fall to his side, but he stayed snuggled close to his fiancé. He came to rest his head on John's good shoulder.
"No, shhh, it is fine." John looked at Sherlock, smiling softly. "It's for you, alright? I am fine. Just... keep your mouth to yourself." He grinned and bent his head to gently meet Sherlock's lips, his hand continuing the slow and tight strokes. It was clear his fiancé needed this. Anything to get his mind off of drugs, being injured. He was restless as it was. Leave it to Sherlock to not have any interest in sex and then decide that he can't live without it. "Just let me do this for you."
Sherlock smirked a bit at John's words. He tried to let himself relax, but with his fiancé touching him he wanted more. His lower torso began to rock in time with the thrusts. He kept his hands busy, by gripping the bed sheets tightly. He moaned into the army doctor's shoulder. With restraint he didn't bite the shoulder, though the impulse was strong. He bit his lower lip instead.
A small blush etched across John's cheeks as the bed started to squeak lightly in time with Sherlock's thrusts but he kept going. A moan. He had made Sherlock moan. John smirked proudly and sped his hand up. It was amazing to him that Sherlock was being vocal, even at just the gentle touch of his hand. "Love it when you moan," he whispered against his fiancé's temple.
Another smirk etched his lips, even though John wouldn't see it. Sherlock couldn't help but be cocky. "I know." He didn't care that the bed was squeaking. When his fiancé picked up the pace, he matched it eagerly which caused even louder noises to be issued from the bed. "Fifty quid says a doctor or nurse walks in." He couldn't help but tease John. Teasing with touches and kisses wasn't a viable option but words should be a safe bet.
"Hush," John snapped, looking down at him. "I don't have fifty quid and the bloody door is shut." He completely stopped the movements of his hand. Two could play at the game. "Should I stop, then? Since you seem so nervous about a doctor coming in?" His hand squeezed lightly around Sherlock's erection, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Or are you going to beg for it?"
"John, you know I don't care if anyone walks in. Make me beg for it? What happened to 'just let me do this for you'?" Sherlock lifted his head up to smirk at his fiancé for a moment, his gaze locked on the army doctor. His lower body continued to squirm in impatient anticipation.
John narrowed his eyes for a moment. "I care if somebody walks in and you know that," he stated in a low tone, meeting Sherlock's gaze. While having a bit of power over his fiancé was nice, he knew he had lost it almost instantly, and let his hand pick up at a fast pace. "Leave it to you to be a stubborn git during a hand job," he growled as he nipped at Sherlock's temple.
Sherlock laughed as he placed his head back down on John's shoulder. "Yeah, but you love it. Just think how boring things would be if I wasn't. You know I like to keep things interesting." He smirked into the shoulder once more. He once more matched the pace set by his fiancé. With a moan, he finally came his body tensing and then relaxing immediately afterward. "That was good…" he muttered through his now thready breath. He lifted his head once more, the smirk returning. "Should have taken the bet. You would be fifty quid richer."
John smirked as he ran his hand down Sherlock's pants, cleaning it off. "Glad you enjoyed it," he said with a kiss to the tip of Sherlock's nose. "That bet was silly and you know it. The money would have been both of ours anyway. We are getting married." He gently cleaned Sherlock with the bed sheet, placing a quick peck on Sherlock's mouth. "Relaxed now?"
"Yes. Tired even." Once more, Sherlock nestled into John's shoulder. He reached one hand to find his fiancé's and gave it small squeeze. "How long do you think they will keep us here? Hate hospitals. Just want to go home." He didn't care if sounded like a whining child. How much time had gone by since he had gotten hit in the head? Would it be safe to rest now?
"I bet they release you before me," John muttered, squeezing Sherlock's hand back. "I heard them talking. Three days with that much blood loss isn't good." He turned his head to look at his fiancé with a crooked smile. "Sleep, alright? You need some rest."
"Won't leave without you," Sherlock muttered. Not counting being unconscious, he hadn't really slept in almost a week's time. "Love you." He gave a small kiss on his fiancé's shoulder and then let his eyes close, fingers clinging tighter to John's. Other than that, his body was relaxed and at peace when he finally fell asleep.
John studied Sherlock with a weak smile, happy that his fiancé had finally relaxed enough to fall asleep. It had been one of the reasons he had decided to break the no-sex rule. He relaxed himself but didn't fall asleep. That would mean nightmares which would wake Sherlock up. Instead he counted the ceiling tiles over and over again, mumbling the numbers to himself.
Sherlock slept long and hard, uninterrupted by dreams or nightmares. He hadn't meant to sleep for so long, but his body had needed it. He awoke groggily and in pain. The medication he had been given must have ran out and left his system while he slumbered. He realized his hand was still holding onto John's hand. He smiled and lifted his head to glance at his fiance.
"Good morning," John whispered softly, smiling as he placed a kiss on Sherlock's forehead. "You snort a bit, did you know that? Adorable, really." He squeezed Sherlock's hand and smirked proudly. "Did that help? Knocked you out. Bit proud of myself."
Morning? Really, Sherlock didn't even know what time he had fallen asleep. "How long was I asleep?" He frowned a moment. "Were you awake this whole time?" He smirked slightly. "I don't snore," he muttered. "And yes, you seem quite adept at making me tired." He shifted slightly, ignoring the pain in his chest and sides.
"About eight hours. And yes, I was awake the whole time, which is how I know you snore. Not loud, and every breath, but an occasional soft noise." John watched Sherlock move and shifted to capture his lips. He didn't know why but at the moment he wanted to kiss his fiancé, show him how much he loved him. His tongue moved deftly into Sherlock's mouth, exploring every inch. With each passing moment John's heart monitor picked up but he didn't care.
Sherlock readily returned the kiss until the heart monitor wouldn't stop beeping. He broke the kiss. "John, you need to take it easy for the next few days. You need to be strong enough when we get home so I can teach you how to dance in time for the wedding." He smirked and once more rested his head on his fiancé's shoulder. It was quite comfortable to him.
Dance. In front of people. John looked down at the top of his fiancé's head as he blushed. He would never be ready for that. "I like kissing you. You know exactly what I like." His good arm wrapped protectively around Sherlock and ran up and down his spine lightly. "I don't remember much of the rescue," he admitted softly. "I thought I was going to die."
"I wouldn't have let that happened," Sherlock replied quietly. He was actually surprised that he had made it out alive himself. He had been completely reckless when fighting Aleksandr and it had almost cost him. The only thing he could think about was buying just enough time for Irene to get out with John, anything that happened to him was secondary at best. He didn't want to upset his fiancé so he kept his thoughts to himself. He shifted once more, realizing that the wrist he had dislocated was a bit swollen. Maybe it hadn't snapped into place like he thought. There had been a plethora of other pain all over the rest of his body; he hadn't noticed the throbbing in his wrist until now.
At some point John had been sure that they were both going to die. He vaguely remembered Irene dropping him to the ground because Sherlock was about to be shot. He was too weak to do anything and Irene had saved his life. "If I would have lost you it wouldn't have been worth it to make it out." He glanced at his fiancé and took a deep breath. "I have lost too many people in the past six months, Sherlock. I couldn't lose you too." The admission made him turn his head away, clearing his throat. Too emotional. Too deep.
Sherlock merely nodded at John's words. He really wasn't sure how to reply to that, so he just decided to remain quiet. Well, there were a number of things he thought about saying but instead he opted to keep his thoughts to himself once more. So, he squeezed his fiancé's hand in reassurance.
John just wanted to leave now, to go home and return to a normal life. Everything around him had turned upside down. The thought of being a civilian again scared him. Normal. Boring. And now he had a daughter. A husband. He knew the nightmares were going to be worse and more common. He would probably scare Sherlock non-stop. "Remember how Pirate Sherlock and John were fighting that sea monster?" He asked softly, yawning at the end of his sentence. "They won."
Sherlock couldn't help but smirk. "You should sleep now my dear doctor. You are obviously tired. You shouldn't have stayed up while I was asleep," he chastised lightly. He lifted his head and met John's lip gently and let the kiss linger for a bit. Even though things were less than ideal, it was nice to be close to his fiancé. For things to be almost normal again.
Would it be childish to tell Sherlock that he was afraid to sleep? John returned the kiss and elected to keep his thoughts to himself, nodding lightly and letting his head fall back. Relax. Don't think. He closed his eyes and forced his breathing to even out and before he knew it he had fallen asleep, the arm around Sherlock's shoulders slipping and falling to rest on the mattress behind Sherlock.
Sherlock smiled softly, his head coming to rest upon John's shoulder yet again. Hopefully his fiancé wouldn't have any nightmares. He wished there was something he could do help with that. Well, he had offered but the result was always the same. He sighed quietly at his thoughts and tried to not think about anything. The pain his body was going through made for a good distraction for a little while but soon that lead to the itching need for drugs. He sighed again. He was getting restless but he made his body be still, so as not to wake John.