Author's Note:
This is a mostly super adorable chapter. John and Sherlock give Amy a bath. How is that not cute? Anyway, thank you to everyone who's been reviewing and all the love I've been getting in my Tumblr askbox has been amazing! Thank you guys so much for all the support!
John followed Sherlock slowly, raising a brow. "Last time we tried just kissing you insisted on sucking me off," he whispered slowly, moving to press himself against his fiancé's chest. "And I don't think you are leading me over here for a quick nap." He tilted his head and placed a kiss on Sherlock's pressure point, nipping at it with a small sigh. "You can't fool me, Sherlock, you sex-crazed madman."
Sherlock smirked and shrugged. "I have no idea what you are talking about my dear doctor." He sat down on the couch, pulling John with him still so his fiancé could straddle his lap. "You like it, and you know it. It's because I am so sexy and irresistible, right? Can't keep your hands off me, just like I can't keep mine off you." He smirked again, mischief in his light blue eyes as he looked up at John.
It was difficult to say no to Sherlock, especially in this position, and John followed him easily. He moved to straddle Sherlock's thighs and a playful roll of his eyes."I am not sleeping with you." He placed a soft kiss on his partner's lips. "Tomorrow night we can shag all you want." Another kiss but this time John tugged at Sherlock's bottom lip with a small grin. "You owe me dinner." He let his hand slide under Sherlock's shirt, pulling it up as he ran a thumb across one of his fiancé's nipples.
Sherlock returned the kiss, his tongue moving to explore John's mouth. His arms wrapped around his fiancé to help support the other man and to pull him closer. He couldn't help but squirm into the man above him. His hands slipped under John's shirt, fingers digging in slightly as they scratched along the skin.
"Still not sleeping with you," John whispered into Sherlock's mouth despite the fact that his hips moved forward fractionally to press against Sherlock's stomach. No sex. That was for tomorrow night. They needed to sleep and get ready for the biggest day of their lives tomorrow. Shagging on the couch like two teenagers was the last thing they needed to be doing. "I'm not breaking this time." The muscles in his torso tensed under his fiancé's touch and he squeezed Sherlock's rib cage slightly.
Sherlock was about to argue with a witty come back, but the squeezing on his chest made him wince. Still tender. And no pain medication. Perfect. He let his hands fall to his sides, trying to ignore the pain and just concentrate on kissing John. That had always proved to be a good distraction in the past.
Shit. "Sorry," John whispered, pulling away from the kiss to look at Sherlock's chest. "Fuck, Sherlock, I'm sorry, I forgot." He dropped his head and opened his mouth to place several kisses across Sherlock's bruised ribs, his tongue lapping at the skin loudly. He stubbornly grabbed one of his partner's hands and moved it to his scalp. No shagging but that didn't mean he had to go without Sherlock's touch. His mouth continued to work at Sherlock's chest.
"It's fine. You were just trying to turn me on with pain," Sherlock replied with a slight smirk. He closed his eyes in contentment, as John kissed his chest. His hand came to rest on his fiancé's head without a fight. His fingers ran the through the hair immediately. It was soft and pleasant to the touch again. Since his partner seemed resolute about no sex, he decided to let John control things and just kind of let his fiancé do whatever. It was his turn to follow the lead.
"I love you," John whispered against Sherlock's chest. "And this time tomorrow you will be my husband." He slowly pulled away from his fiancé's chest and looked up. "It makes me so happy to know that you will be mine." He moved his left hand to tunnel through Sherlock's hair slowly, his fingernails scratching at his scalp. "I don't want dinner anymore," he muttered as he studied Sherlock's face. "That dancing made me tired." He tilted his head and sucked at Sherlock's neck, making sure to make the mark where it would be easily covered for the ceremony tomorrow. "Want to go to bed snuggled up against you."
"Love you too." Sherlock opened his eyes to look up at John. He was about to say more, but the sucking on his neck disrupted any words that might have formed. He tilted his head, so his fiancé could have better access and not giving a damn if a mark could be seen later on. His lower torso squirmed, unable to contain the excitement his body was feeling. Fingers scraped through John's hair a little rougher than usual. At this point, he couldn't help the reactions of his body.
John couldn't help the smirk that tugged at his lips. "Tomorrow I am going to make you scream." He let the words rumble in his chest. "Going to go slow, blindfold you, have complete control," he responded to Sherlock's movement with a small thrust of his own hips. "Going to lick wedding cake off your body."
"Oh, you think so? Guess I will need to pack a few extra things for Mum's then." Sherlock smirked up at John. The idea was appealing and exciting to him though and once more his body bucked into his fiancé's with a small whimper of desire. Shit. Just words were enough for him it seemed. He desperately wanted it all now. Was he really going to have wait until tomorrow? He supposed he could just always settle for a hot shower later.
If they really weren't going to do anything then he needed to stop now. At this rate they were most certainly doing something. John ran his left hand down Sherlock's chest as he met his fiancé's lips, moving slowly and cupping Sherlock through his pants. "Sherlock." He let his hand squeeze Sherlock's penis through his pants. "Should probably stop."
Sherlock smirked a bit. "I'm not the one doing anything, you are my dear doctor." It wasn't often he felt sexually frustrated but he was certainly getting there now. Well, John had never left him frustrated before because they almost always finished what they started, even if they were in a ridiculous physical shape. Once more he couldn't help but squirm into his fiancé at the touch, despite it being through pants.
"Can't help it," John whispered softly, moving his hand across the bulge in Sherlock's pants with soft pressure. "Think I could get you off just through your pants?" The question was serious but a curious look crossed his face. He was always up for new things and this was certainly something new for them. They had always made sure there was actual contact but now he wanted to try, wanted to watch Sherlock squirm.
Sherlock arched a brow. "Probably. It seems it doesn't take a lot to get me there these days. I thin it is because you are so adorable." He smirked and gave a slight shrug. "So no sex, but getting each other off is still okay. My dear doctor, sometimes you make no sense to me." The smirk grew with his teasing tone.
John's eyes shot up and narrowed instantly. "I am thirty-nine," he said softly. "Hardly the age for adorable." The hand on the front of Sherlock's pants pressed harder forward. "Besides, I'm just asking. Have plans during the reception tomorrow." He tilted his head and nipped at Sherlock's jaw line. "I want to get you all worked up and just leave you here, to be honest."
"Plans during the reception? Why John Watson, in front of all those people? I have created a monster. Just so you know, if you do. I will be sure to squirm and make noise and everyone will know. I can already see it. Mycroft staring at us with his constant disapproving look. My mum a mix between mortified, disapproving and a hint of amusement. Lestrade will probably be too embarrassed to look at us." Sherlock smirked. His fiancé wasn't the only who could play games.
Oh, that was how this was going to go now? John glanced at his fiancé and curled his hand so his fingernails would dig into the front of Sherlock's pants. "Except if you do that then I will just stop, leave you like that in front of everybody. Then you will have to get up for our dance like that." He gently met Sherlock's lips and rocked his hips forward slowly. "You wouldn't want that."
Sherlock smirked, his body reacting to John's touch once more. "Apparently you don't know me that well. I would. It would be a slight discomfort but the look on your face would be worth it. So, the question is this: Do you think I am bluffing? Guess we'll just have to wait and find out tomorrow." He leaned forward a bit, so his mouth could give attention to his fiancé's ear.
"I think, I know you very well, Sherlock Holmes," John whispered softly. He pulled his hand away and felt his breath catch at his fiancé's mouth on his ear. "And I think the moment I tou-" A small cry came from their bedroom and John dropped his head for a moment. The crying got louder and he glanced at his partner. "She probably needs her diaper changed. Needs a bath," he whispered.
Right. Of course. Their daughter. Sherlock couldn't help but wonder how many times moments like these would be interrupted. No time to be a selfish child. God, he really hated being an adult sometimes. "Do you want me to get it? Or did you want to?" He was silent a moment before admitting quietly, "I have never bathed her before…" Some father he was turning out to be.
"We could both bathe her if you want," John offered softly. "Because I haven't washed her either. I have been gone." He shifted and pulled himself away from his fiancé and managed to get to his feet. The crying from their room only got louder and John didn't hesitate to move toward their room. "Amy, honey." He picked her up and instantly held her against his chest. "Shhh..." He bounced her up and down but her crying didn't quiet at all. "You are not happy." He walked back into the living room. "There is a little water chair up in my old room. Would you go grab that?" John glanced at Sherlock over his shoulder as he slowly undressed Amy and set out a new outfit for her.
Sherlock nodded and went to the other room. He quickly recalled the part in the baby books about bathing an infant. He could do this. They both could. When had been a parent become so terrifying to him? He looked around the room for a moment, before he finally found what he was looking for. This room as so different now. It would be little Sandi's once she was old enough. For a moment he stared at it, lost in thought. He was about to walk out, when a yellow rubber ducky on the dresser caught his eye. When he picked it up, it squeaked. Of course it would. Kids liked that kind of thing, right? He returned to John and Amy, trying not to show the nervousness he couldn't seem to get rid of.
Amy had calmed considerably when Sherlock returned and John was already filling the kitchen sink with lukewarm water. "Thank you." He grabbed the chair, placed it in the sink, and place Amy in it. She sat back and looked up at John blankly, one hand moving to splash at the water shakily. "Watch her?" He glanced at his fiancé and smiled softly. "Need to go get her soap and shampoo."
"Of course." Sherlock couldn't help but think of the various things that could go wrong while bathing an infant. Nope. He would surely drive himself crazy if he thought of every conceivable thing that could go wrong. "Hey Baby Girl. I brought you this." He placed the duck in the water. "That is duck. It squeaks. Well, really they quack but I guess you don't really care." He squeezed the rubber duck and moved it around in the water. He felt a bit ridiculous but then again, he had talked to Amy while she was still in the womb. This was slightly less silly he supposed.
John moved out of the kitchen and up the stairs with a nod while Amy let her gaze fall on Sherlock. She watched him intently until she heard the duck squeak. She jumped slightly and her eyes went wide, watching the movement of the bright yellow object before looking back at Sherlock. It didn't take long for John to return to the kitchen with two bottles in hand but the sight in front of him made him stop. Sherlock was pushing a rubber duck around the sink to entertain Amy. "And you thought you would make a horrible father," he muttered as he moved to stand beside his fiancé. "You are doing just fine."
Sherlock glanced up to John. "Am I? I don't think she likes the duck very much. Although, it is impossible to know I suppose." He took the toy out of the water and placed it on the counter. He absently wiped his hand on his pants, as he moved out of the way so John would be able to wash little Sandi.
"She didn't cry. That is always a plus," John muttered as he set the shampoo on the counter and poured some soap in his hand. "Amy, you need to get clean!" He smiled widely at her and ran his hands along her arms, chest and tummy. One hand lingered above her stomach and he tickled her gently, causing her feet to kick up slightly and splash water at his face. "Oh, really? Miss Amy, are you ticklish?" He repeated the motion and got the same treatment, this time with more water. "Goodness gracious, young lady! You are making a mess!" He reached into a cabinet and grabbed a small plastic cup, scooping some water into it. "Okay, let's clean those luscious locks of yours." He winced as he lifted his right hand to shield her eyes as his left dumped water on her hair. That she certainly didn't like. She gave a small cry and her Dad moved to quickly put shampoo on her scalp. The massaging fingers seemed to calm her slightly.
Sherlock smiled slightly as he watched John interact with little Sandi. His fiancé seemed to be a natural at it. The other man made it look so easy. "You seem to have this fathering thing down," he commented, as he leaned against the counter. "Sure you don't want to eat? Probably won't be time tomorrow until the reception."
John smiled softly and looked over at Sherlock. "Far from it," he muttered as he washed the shampoo out of Amy's hair and grabbed the towel he had brought over with her new clothes. He picked her up and instantly wrapped her in it. "Probably should eat or I might pass out at the altar." He chuckled slightly and stood on his toes to kiss his fiancé. "Have anything in mind? You should eat, too." He grabbed the new clothes and moved to the changing table with ease. "Unless we want to cook?"
"This probably doesn't come as surprise, but I don't know how to cook. I mean, I am sure I could figure it out. All it is following instructions on a package or a recipe, yes?" Sherlock gave a cocky smile. "I thought you wanted Chinese though? It doesn't matter to me. Food is food. One of those boring necessities in life." This time he smirked, as he leaned up off the counter.
"I just want you to be happy," John said softly as he put a new diaper on Amy. "I want you to eat." He glanced at Sherlock over his shoulder and raised a brow. "Let's order Chinese. Less of a mess to clean up before tonight." He pulled a new one piece outfit over Amy's legs and ignored her slight fussing as he pulled it over her arms. "I want orange chicken." He walked past Sherlock and placed a kiss on his cheek. "Get some sweet and sour sauce. Maybe I will lick it off you later," he growled. It was nearly a promise because at this point, especially after being interrupted, he was ready to jump on his fiancé. John moved to sit on the couch, placing Amy gently in his lap.
"Chinese it is, my dear doctor." Sherlock took out his cell phone, called the restaurant and ordered their food in Chinese. He moved to the living room once he was done talking on the phone. He took a seat in his chair and it came as no surprise when Hamish jumped into his lap. He began petting the feline automatically. "So, we are having sex tonight then?" He asked John with a smirk.
"Did you really think I was just going to not have sex with you? Christ, Sherlock, I can't keep my hands off you." John looked at his fiancé with a small grin. He had wanted to wait but he figured that having sex tonight could also be a plus. Last night as, technically, single men. "We will have to ask Mrs. Hudson to watch Amy so we can use the bed," he muttered in thought. That was his one moral responsibility, he figured. Don't shag your future husband in the same room as your daughter. That had to cross a line somewhere. It also just seemed a bit uncomfortable. Then again, so did asking Mrs. Hudson. The woman would know.
Sherlock smirked. "What if I want to wait?" He paused before going on. "Oh who am I trying to fool. I think I like sex more than you do." He gave another smirk. "I can ask Mrs. Hudson, if it will make you uncomfortable." He shifted a bit in his chair, causing Hamish to growl in discontent but remained on the lap. He glanced down to the feline. "Such a temperamental animal you are."
"I am fairly sure I have made you a sex addict." John laughed and grinned at his fiancé. "Besides, you asking Mrs. Hudson isn't going to make it any better. Sure, I don't have to do it but she will still know what is going on. Not to mention the fact that she has heard us." He couldn't hide the blush that spread across his cheeks, his head dropping to look at Amy instead. She stared up at him with a bored expression, her thumb in her mouth. "Oh, God, a bad habit already."
"I don't know why you are worried about Mrs. Hudson knowing." Sherlock gave a slight shrug. He arched a brow at his fiancé. "Thumb sucking isn't a bad habit. It is what infants do naturally. Sometimes it starts even when still in the womb. Babies will suck pretty much anything within reach of their mouth. If it continues past the age of five, then we can start worrying. At least, that is according to the various books I have read."
"I am worried because... her knowing what we are doing is just a bit awkward for me. Also, I might have performance anxiety, Sherlock." John looked at his fiancé sternly. It was the fact that somebody knew, especially their landlady, that they were shagging. The thought made him nervous. He glanced back at Amy and took a deep breath, relaxing back on to the couch. He was exhausted and the idea that they were getting married tomorrow wasn't helping. The knocking at the front door made him lazily turn his head.
"Boys, food!" Mrs. Hudson came up the stairs with a smile, placing the bag on the coffee table in front of the couch. "Oh, hello there, Amy." She smiled warmly at the infant before glancing at Sherlock and John. "Tomorrow is the big day. I can't wait! Sherlock, your Mum has told me all about it!"
Sherlock merely smirked and shook his head at his fiancé, obviously amused. He looked over to Mrs. Hudson when she came in. "Would you mind looking after Amy for us tonight? John and I have some things to take care of before the wedding tomorrow." The smirk returned, eyes filled with mischief. It was obvious what he had meant, and he chanced a glance over to John to see his reaction.
"Oh, do you?" Mrs. Hudson grinned and winked at Sherlock. "Of course not, dears. I would love to watch her!"
"Sherlock!" John growled, a deep blush spreading over his cheeks. This was embarrassing. "If it isn't too much, Mrs. Hudson. I m-mean if you really don't wan-"
"John, calm down. You are both almost married. Have fun tonight! Just bring her down when you are ready!" She left the flat with a smile.
"I hate you. I literally hate you." John ignored the pain in his shoulder and grabbed his food with his right hand, opening and taking a bite. "You didn't have to do it like that. At all. Now she knows."
"Oh come on John, she would have figured it out either way and you know it." Sherlock opened his box of food, offering the meat out of it to Hamish. The cat gobbled the offered morsels greedily, issuing a small purr of appreciation. He used chopsticks with his other hand, and began eating the fried noodles. It had been awhile since he had eaten it, and he'd almost forgotten just how good the food was from there.
John stubbornly shoved another forkful of food into his mouth, shifting slightly to hold Amy more comfortably in his left arm. "No, she wouldn't have, Sherlock. I would have stayed quiet for the sake of keeping our activities private. I don't want all of Baker Street to know we're shagging," he grumbled. Sure, he was probably acting a bit like a child but he didn't like their private lives had to be known by everybody. That was why they were private. "I am going to make you scream tonight." He glanced up as Mrs. Hudson entered the flat again, grabbing the carrier for Amy as well as the diaper bag and several bottles. "D'you want me to carry her crib downstairs, then?"
"Oh, no dear, it is fine. Mycroft bought a second one for my flat, too. I think he knew I might be watching little Amy every once in a while." Mrs. Hudson winked at John as she took the infant.
John didn't respond, instead handing Amy off with a soft kiss to her forehead before shoveling more food into his mouth. He couldn't take this much longer.
Sherlock watched John with a frown. He had only meant to tease his fiancé, not upset him. Now he wasn't interested in food or even sex. He sighed at his thoughts, and forced himself to eat some more. He ended up feeding Hamish most of the food, rather than eating himself though. He let his gaze drift back over to the man on the couch. "John…I'm sorry…I was only teasing…" He hated when they got into fights, so he had forced himself to take the first step to fixing it.