Author's Note:
Yes! I love this chapter so much! And my reviewers are back! YAY! I love it when you all review, makes me all happy, warm, and fuzzy inside.
The next month seemed tense for John, trying to please Sherlock and constantly keep him happy. They cared for Amy and before he knew it the bags were packed, Amy was with Nancy, and he was dressing himself in the bathroom with a completely healed shoulder. In a few hours they would be on a private beach by themselves. "Sherlock, is your bag completely packed?" John poked his head out of the bathroom as he finished buttoning his shirt.
Sherlock had decided not to talk to John. A mistake? He wasn't sure yet. Maybe in time he would get there. His husband was healed physically, but the other man still struggled through the nightmares from time to time. He had spent a lot of the time playing the violin and writing new music. It seemed to be helping. He had just entered the living room, dressed and bag in hand. "Of course. Are you almost ready my dear doctor?"
John nodded and grabbed his bag, moving to the kitchen table to grab the plan tickets. "Right. Swim suit?" He glanced at his husband, brows raised. "Don't forget it." He moved forward slowly and took a deep breath, standing on his toes to gently meet Sherlock's lips. "I am so excited."
"Yes, John. We went through the trouble of picking one out, might as well use it. You had better be a good teacher." Sherlock smirked. "Me too." And he was. It would be good to get away for awhile.
"At least we found black ones," John admonished lightly, playfully rolling his eyes. "You will look fine. We will be on a beach by ourselves, nobody will see you." He tugged at Sherlock's shirt and grinned. "C'mon, our flight leaves in two hours, we should get to the airport." He started down the stairs and toward the front door. "Young Master Holmes." He turned to glance at his husband with a giggle.
"Coming adorable Johnny." Sherlock smirked and followed after his husband and down the stairs with his luggage. As usual Mycroft had arranged for a car to pick them up. He put the baggage in the trunk and then got in the back seat. "This will be good. Think we can make it better than Scotland?"
John wanted to say yes but the past month had been so tense. They had only had sex once and it had been rushed and felt more like a responsibility than anything. Except he hadn't told that to Sherlock. "I hope so." He smiled slightly at his husband and reached across the back seat to grab Sherlock's hand. "I won't be impressed unless we break another headboard," he added with a laugh.
Sherlock had noticed John's hesitation but nodded anyway. This next month had to at least be better than the last one. He squeezed his husband's hand. "We will break everything in the place by the time I am done with you." He smirked slightly.
At those words John felt a chill run up his spine. God, that sounded wonderful. "Want to start it now?" He asked softly, glancing in his husband's direction. He shifted closer to Sherlock and slowly pulled their hands apart without waiting for an answer. His hand undid his husband's pants while he glanced out the window, watching London pass by. Start now. Make Sherlock happy. His hand slipped into his partner's underwear and confidently grabbed his penis, giving it a quick squeeze.
Sherlock was about to say they didn't have enough time but feeling John's hand on his cock quickly changed his mind. "Oh God yes," he uttered. He grabbed his husband by the shirt to pull him closer and possibly get the other man to straddle him. His eyes closed as he bucked into his partner's hand.
John had just planned on giving Sherlock a hand job but the tug on his shirt was hard to resist. He moved without a second thought to straddle his husband. In the back of a car. Specifically, one of Mycroft's cars. He didn't speak as he started to stroke Sherlock, tight and slow. Even just on their way to their honeymoon was better than the past month. He sat back slightly on Sherlock's hips to keep his hand moving.
Sherlock moaned, his body rocking in time with John's strokes. His eyes opened and he moved into kiss his husband. His tongue took no time at all to eagerly explore his partner's. This was certainly so much better than the last month. Maybe this month would turn out better than Scotland. He was motivated to make it happen. "I love you," he murmured behind the kiss.
John whimpered into the kiss, moving his tongue to tangle with Sherlock's. "I love you too," he whispered against his husband's lips. His hand tightened around Sherlock's cock and started to move faster. They didn't have much time, they would be at the airport soon. "God, yes."
It didn't take long to get him off. Sherlock wasn't sure if it was the excitement of getting a hand job in one of Mycroft's cars or just because they hadn't really done anything in a month's time. He let out a moan of appreciation as he came, his body relaxing afterward. He continued to kiss John, not caring about the mess that had just been made in his pants. He didn't want the closeness to stop. It had been too long and now he needed it, craved it.
John grinned into the kiss, running his tongue across his husband's teeth with a whimper. Perfect. In the car on the way to the airport and things were already looking better. He pressed closer to Sherlock and continued the kiss until he needed to breathe. "Good," he whispered. "Very good."
Sherlock pressed back into John, fingers scratching through his husband's shirt. When the kiss broke, he began sucking on his partner's neck with a growl of excitement. He moved his lips to John's ear. "I love you. I am sorry if I have been difficult since being married. Can we maybe start over?" He nibbled on the ear after whispering into it.
"Yeah," John gasped out, breathing hard and trying to calm himself down. The car was stopping. It wouldn't do them any good to get caught like this. "Of course. Always." He shifted and slid off of Sherlock as the door opening slightly, the driver looking slightly upset. It was clear he had heard everything. "C'mon." He slid out of the seat and glanced back into the car. "Let's go."
Sherlock smirked at the driver. "Give my regards to Mycroft. Might want to have the car detailed…just in case." The smirk only got bigger as he stepped out. He got out the luggage without trouble and waited until John was ready to walk into the airport. Things were off to a glorious start. Hopefully it would continue down this road. It should. He had been serious about a fresh start. With any luck, so was his husband.
John moved easily toward his husband, smiling sheepishly. "C'mere, your pants." He grinned and moved in front of his husband, fixing his pants. The wet spot would be a bit harder fix. He grabbed Sherlock's hand and pulled him into the airport, adjusting his own erection in his jeans. "Few hours and we will be there. Christ, I can't wait."
Sherlock smirked to John and shrugged. "I have an extra set of clothes in my carry on. I can change before we board the plane. If the bathroom is empty, maybe I can fix your problem." He smirked again, as he waited in line to check in their bags. It went surprisingly fast and security didn't take long either. He grabbed John's hand and tugged his husband towards the nearest restroom.
The bathroom? John tripped over his feet and followed after Sherlock, relaxing slightly when they entered an empty bathroom. "Change," he whispered, meeting his husband's lips softly. "I won't make you do anything in a bathroom." But Christ they were already doing better. He felt a bit daring but he didn't want to force Sherlock into anything. He instead glanced around the bathroom with a lop-sided smile.
Sherlock smirked and tugged John into the stall with him. He closed the door and locked it into place. He pressed his body into his husband's eagerly, backing the other man into the door of the stall. For a moment he just made out with his partner, before he broke it and got on his knees. He undid John's pants, fingers fumbling for a moment in his excitement.
"Sherlo-" John was cut off as Sherlock kissed him, a small grunt pressing into his husband's mouth as he felt the door against his back. The moment he felt comfortable with the kiss was when Sherlock pulled away. It took John a moment to realize what was going on. "You sure?" He asked hesitantly despite the fact that a hand moved into his husband's hair.
The answer was obviously yes, when Sherlock got the pants and boxers down and he took John's penis in his mouth. The pace started slow at first but a he eased into the rhythm it got faster. One hand took hold of the base of the cock to stroke the part his mouth couldn't quite reach. The other hand pressed against the door for support.
John's head slammed back into the door, a loud noise echoing through the bathroom. "Yes, fuck." His hand clenched in Sherlock's hair as he let out a soft whimper. It wasn't until he had managed to suck in a deep breath of air that he heard footsteps. "S-Stop," he stuttered out in a whisper, looking down at his husband as he panted. Two stalls down a door shut. "Wait," he added breathlessly.
Sherlock didn't want to stop but when John requested it a second time, he complied. The thought of getting caught was strangely alluring but getting arrested before the honeymoon would definitely ruin things. Although, the phone call to Mycroft about it might be worth it. It was tempting but he remained still, breathing quietly.
John whimpered, lifting his right hand and shoving it in his mouth. Christ, his cock was still in Sherlock's mouth. His breathing was hard and he couldn't help it when his hips nudged forward slightly in the warmth of his husband's mouth. After a few long moments the toilet flushed, the stranger washed his hands, and then John and Sherlock were alone again. "Jesus," he moaned and looked down at Sherlock lustfully.
Sherlock shifted his gaze upward, a smirk on his lips around John's penis. When he heard the stranger leave the bathroom, he immediately went back to work. It took him a moment to find the previous pace before the interruption. The rhythm continued to increase in speed, his hand working in time with his mouth.
It had been almost a month. There was no way he was going to last very long. "Sherlock..." He looked down at his husband and tensed as he came. He struggled to stand, his legs wiggling as he slumped against the door to the stall. "Holy... that was..." He swallowed hard and ran his hand through Sherlock's hair. "I love you."
Sherlock swallowed it all with practiced ease. He licked his lips as he stood up and then helped John pull his jeans up and button them into place. He then changed quickly, not minding the small space that was offered with two of them in the stall. "Love you too dear doctor. Now, perhaps we should go find our gate. Wouldn't want the plane to leave without us." He grinned and gave his husband's nose a quick kiss.
John watched his husband change as he finally calmed down, moving to place a peck on Sherlock's lips. "That would be awkward to explain, wouldn't it?" He giggled softly as he opened the stall. This was wonderful. It felt like the tension of the last month was completely gone. They were back to normal. "Let's go." He grabbed his husband's hand and gave it a tug as they left the room.
Sherlock grinned. "I can see us trying to explain it to my brother. He would pretend to be annoyed, but really he would be amused." He followed John out of the bathroom. It didn't take them long to navigate the airport and find the gate they would be departing from. "Did I tell you we are flying first class? A Holmes always travels first class."
"First class?" John swallowed hard and fell into his sear beside his husband. "I... What? I have never flown first class. Ever. Isn't that expensive?" He reached out and grabbed Sherlock's hand, squeezing it as he looked around their gate. Awkwardly enough they weren't the only couple at the gate and all of them looked as eager as them. "Is it nice?"
Sherlock shrugged a bit. "Mum wouldn't let us fly coach, even if you asked. She is big on propriety and social class. There's more foot room and the pillows are nicer, but other than that there isn't that big of a difference if you ask me. There tends to be a lot of annoying, loud businessmen in first class. Think they are more important than everyone else. It is quite ridiculous."
"I am a Watson. I have absolutely no social class," John muttered with a small grin. "Maybe I should have taken your last name. Sound more important." He shifted in the seat, wincing slightly. His boxers were slightly damp. "I owe you. That blow job was..." He paused and glanced at his husband. "I owe you," he repeated.
"Nonsense. You are Captain John Hamish Watson. Fearless. Brave. True. I wouldn't have let you change your name." Sherlock gave a smirk. "You have the entire honeymoon to try and make it up to me. I will make you work for it though." The smirk got bigger and finally first class was called to board. "I love you too." He grabbed John's hand once more and he walked up the already forming line to board.
John grimaced physically at the use of his military rank. It was odd to hear. He stood with his husband and glanced around at everybody they were boarding with. Rich. Suits. Even Sherlock was dressed nice. "This is going to be odd," he whispered. "Oh well, more room. Maybe I will take a nap," he followed the line and as they boarded the plane he plopped into the seat closest to the window. It drew several stares from some business men.
Sherlock took the aisle seat. He leaned over to whisper in John's ear. "Nap? My dear doctor, haven't you ever wanted to shag on an airplane?" He grinned mischievously and then buckled himself into the seat. He turned his head to glare at the men staring. "Never seen a man in jeans before? For God's sake, mind your own damned business." He flashed a menacing smile.
John blushed and shifted in his seat. He was drawing attention to them. "I... how would we even do that?" He asked softly. It was clear he was uncomfortable with their given situation but he was going to make the most of it. "If I would have worn my uniform I wouldn't be drawing so much attention to us," he whispered. And little did Sherlock know that he brought it with him with some ideas.
"Bah. Just ignore them," Sherlock growled and turned his attention back to John. His demeanor and tone of voice changed immediately. "After the plane takes off and it is safe to undo the seat belt, I could show you." The mischievous grin returned once more. "I even came prepared. You know, just in case are luggage got lost. Or in this case, we wanted to have some fun before we arrive at our destination."
Oh. Sherlock had this planned. "I... yeah, okay." John grinned sheepishly. He was prepared so how could he argue with that? "Just don't draw attention to us. Y'know, leave at different times." His hand reached out to squeeze his husband's thigh. Apparently all it took was a honeymoon to fix them. They hadn't been this intimate since their wedding night.
Sherlock raised his eyebrows. "You sure? We don't have to if you don't want to." He didn't want John to feel obligated just because he had thought of it. He had planned it out ahead of time. A surprise of sorts for his husband. It was risky though. Timing would be key. The chance of getting caught made it more exciting.
John turned his head and smiled. "Yeah, of course I am sure. I wouldn't have agreed to it if I didn't want to." He understood how important planning was to each of them, especially when it came to sex. He didn't want to ruin it. Hell, he had made an effort to sneak something on to the plane, be it Vaseline or lube, and John should be grateful. "I am ready whenever you are," he whispered as the seat belt light turned off.
Sherlock smiled and nodded. "We should wait until the flight attendants start handing out snacks. Less likely to be seen or noticed. When I go in, wait about ten...maybe fifteen minutes." He undid his seat belt and took out a small black bag with draw strings and stuck it in his pockets.
John watched the bag curiously. Shit. This was serious. "Okay," he muttered, watching his husband curiously. Now he was excited and the bulge in his pants was growing. "B-Bathroom, then?" He stumbled over the words like some sort of idiot, shaking his head. Come on. Focus. He shifted in his seat as a young woman started handing out little packages of biscuits, smiling at him a bit more suggestively before glancing at Sherlock and continuing down the aisle.
Sherlock couldn't help but smirk at John. "Knock three times so I know it's you. Softly..." The look from the flight attendant didn't go unnoticed. He bit his tongue. Don't draw attention. He got up from his seat and went to the bathroom. He locked it and took out the bag. It had a plastic screw driver in it and one of those small packets of sample lubes. He took the screwdriver out and removed the plastic the toilet was attached to. It didn't take him as long as he thought it would, so he waited the signal from John.
Okay. Calm. John looked up and down the aisle, waiting for about ten minutes before standing. He headed toward the bathroom confidently. Knock three times. Softly. When the door opened, he got in swiftly and shut it, locking it instantly. "What was the bag for?" He reached over and picked it up, inspecting it curiously.
Sherlock smirked and tilted his toward the missing cover of the toilet. "Screw driver, plastic. Wouldn't be able to smuggle a metal one on. Well, I could have tried but that would have taken extra effort and higher risk. Now climb down, you will end up in the cargo area. I will unlock the door, climb in after you, pulling the cover with me and screwing it back into place. I doubt anyone will notice the screws are upside down as long as it's in place. There's also some lube in the bag."
Was this some sort of action movie? "I... Yeah. Okay. Right then." John did as told, grabbing the lube as he dropped into the dark cargo hold, wincing to try and adjust to the darkness. "Hurry up," he whispered as he looked up at the light.
Sherlock waited for John to be below and then worked quickly. He clicked the door unlocked, hoping no one was outside waiting. He climbed down, pulling the seat with and hurriedly but skillfully put the screws back into place. Whew. Getting up would take luck just like getting down had. Worry about that later. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust and then he took John's hand and led them away from the restroom. His other trailed along the wall as a guide. When he thought they were far enough away, he pulled his husband into him with his back pressed against the wall and began kissing his partner with need and aggression.
John let out a muffled grunt, returning the kiss aggressively. Without a doubt in his mind they had fixed things. The kiss was sloppier than he would have liked but he couldn't see Sherlock's face. "What're we gonna do?" He whispered, reaching between them to start undoing his husband's pants. Shit, he wanted Sherlock inside of him but if his husband wanted something different then he wasn't going to argue.
"Thought maybe I could take you from behind. It would leave you pressed against the side of the plane, so it might be a bit uncomfortable. Better than trying the floor though, I believe." Sherlock bucked into John eagerly. He rolled, gripping his husband's shirt once more to pull the other man with him. When they finished rotating, he had his partner's back against the wall. He moved in to kiss John once more, fingers finally working to get his husband's pants off.
Perfect. John moved with Sherlock, gasping at the feel of the cool metal, even through his shirt. He returned his husband's kiss, standing on his toes to deepen it as he pressed his hips forward, trying to get closer to Sherlock. Now. He needed this now. "Please. Oh God, Sherlock, please." He begged against his partner's lips, moving a hand to dig in the pocket of his jeans before shoving the small package of lube against his husband's stomach.
Good. John was just as eager as he was. Maybe that would mean things would be okay between them after all. Sherlock took the small package once both of their pants were down. He turned his husband around, his free hand scratching through the shirt lightly. He leaned forward and began kissing the back of his partner's neck. His other hand added the lube to John first, a couple of fingers sliding in and out for a moment before prepping himself.
John followed every movement that Sherlock made, pressing his face against the cool metal and pressing back into the scratches and the fingers prepping him. "Oh, Jesus," he whispered, spreading his legs as far as he could with his jeans around his ankles. "Christ, Sherlock, please," he whimpered, glancing over his shoulder. It had be a month, an entire month. This needed to happen.
Sherlock continued to kiss John's neck and when the last of the lube was used up, he pressed into his husband with a moan. "John..." He trailed off, as he began a steady rhythm. He opted for a moderate pace. He didn't want something slow, he was feeling far too needy for that. Fast didn't seem like it would be a good idea since it had been a month since he had last shagged his partner. He pressed the rest of his body into John's tightly, his free hand using the wall for support as he continued to scratch with his other.
There it was. John let out a low moan, dropping his head to give Sherlock better access to the back of his neck. They were shagging in the cargo hold of a plane on the way to their honeymoon. "Fuck, Sherlock." His hips snapped back to meet his husband's thrusts, his hands curling against the cold metal in front of him. One thrust sent him forward, smashed against the metal, and he gasped at the cold sensation on his erection.
Sherlock continued his pace. He figured it would take a bit to get off since he John had jerked him off in the car on the airport. The hand scratching his husband's back dropped and moved to the front. He found his partner's cock and began pumping the penis in time with his thrusts. Every few thrusts or so, his knuckles would get smashed into the metal but he didn't care. This was all too amazing. Perfect. "God John," he breathed into his husband's ear and then began to nibble on it lightly.
John wanted to reply, to beg for more as his hips pressed forward into the warmth of Sherlock's hand and back into the anchor of his body. His mouth opened but all he could do was moan, was think about Sherlock. After a month without shagging he was literally turning to mush. "Sherlock," he whispered, pressing his ear into his husband's mouth eagerly. "Sherlock," he repeated with a gasp and a strangled cry. Hold on. Don't go. Stay with Sherlock. Together. He dropped a hand to reach behind and tangle in Sherlock's hair, tugging slightly.
Sherlock growled into John's ear when his hair was pulled. He continued his set pace in and out of his husband. His hand continued the same rhythm as well, still ignoring his now bruised knuckles. His fingers scratched against the metal, as they sought for traction and failed. He didn't want this to end but he could tell he was close to his climax.
That was it. Too much. The senses rushing through John's body were wonderful and perfect but Christ. Between the cold metal pressed against his face and the warmth of Sherlock behind him, he knew it wasn't going to last much longer. And he was right. He came with a shout, tensing and pressing roughly back into Sherlock. Relax. Let Sherlock finish. He slumped against the metal with a grunt, having enough energy to press his hips back into his husband several times.
Sherlock didn't last much longer after John. A few more thrusts and he came with a loud moan. He collapsed against his husband for some sort of support as he pulled out his partner. "…'sgood. Very…very good John…" He managed to get out through gasping breaths. He wiped his hand off on the metal wall. It might be obvious if he had wiped it on pants. He stayed leaned into John, his head resting on the other man's. His labored breaths started to even out. "Thank you. Love you."
John hummed in agreement, groaning softly. They had to be good now, had to stop dancing on egg shells around each other. "Love you too," he whispered as he sucked in a deep breath and his chest finally started moving normally. "Oh, God, wonderful." He pushed slowly away from the metal but grabbed one of Sherlock's arms. His world was still spinning and he was either going to vomit or pass out if he didn't keep hold of his husband. "Better than Scotland," he mumbled.
Sherlock supported John and his eyes furrowed in thought as he scrutinized his husband in the dim light. "You all right my dear doctor?" He pulled his partner a bit closer, his arms wrapping around the other man in a hug. He couldn't help but smirk at John. "This is better already? But we haven't broken anything yet." The smirk got bigger, clearly proud.
"Yeah. 'M fine," John whispered, clearing his throat. "Haven't done that in a while, think you might have broken me," he said with a short laugh, relaxing back into Sherlock. "We are in the bloody cargo hold of a plane, Sherlock," he whispered as a small chill ran through him. The plane rocked marginally and he giggled. "I am the luckiest man alive."
Sherlock smiled watching John. "We should probably head back before they miss us, yeah? Assuming they noticed we aren't in our seats. Depends on how observant they are really. Are you okay to walk?" He finally pulled up and did his pants and then helped his husband get his jeans on properly. He grabbed his partner's hand gently and led him back the way they came.
John followed Sherlock, tripping over his feet once and narrowing his eyes in the darkness. "Bring a torch next time, yeah?" He joked smoothly, glancing up. "Christ, Sherlock... we are not getting back up there." He looked at his husband the best he could and smirked. "Shit." He paused and bumped Sherlock with his elbow. "Y'know, if we get caught, I think we might end up in jail."
Sherlock smirked a bit and dropped his voice to a whisper. "Yeah, I know but that is what makes it so exciting." He glanced up at where they had dropped down. He heard the toilet flush and he brought his fingers to his lips so John would be quiet. Once he heard the door open and close he waited but heard no more noise. "I will boost you up if you want, when it's open." Being tall had its advantages. He jumped and gripped the pipe attached to the toilet. He hung there for a moment and was about to start taking out the screws when he heard the door open and close again. Of course.
They were trapped. The chances of them finding a good amount of time to do everything and get out would be difficult. So would leaving the bathroom. John had been so turned on that he had just forgotten about everything else. "How are you going to get up?" He whispered softly, lifting his hand to rest on his husband's lower back as he hung on the pipe. Too long. They might have to get off the plane from the cargo hold. Quite a shame, really. He had rather enjoyed his few minutes in first class.
Sherlock had to let go of the pipe after awhile. Shit. It had seemed like a good plan at the time. Maybe they could sneak out after the plane landed, but the crew would notice that two were missing from the manifest at some point. He closed his eyes and thought for a moment. He went over the plans of the plane. "Might have another way out. Come on." He grabbed John's hand and began walking along, navigating the place like he was on a commercial airliner on a regular basis.
John followed his husband obediently and tripped over a few things. "Bloody genius," he whispered with a laugh, still walking a little funny. But he couldn't help but smile because this was perfect. They were back to normal. It wasn't tense and they were... married. He squeezed Sherlock's hand as they navigated the cargo hold.
Sherlock smirked. "We will come to a ladder soon. We should go up one at a time and at different intervals." When they came to a ladder, he indicated to John to be quiet. He listened for a moment and then climbed up to the door. He waited awhile longer and then opened the hatch a crack and he looked around. When it was all clear he climbed out. He was at the flight attendant's station in coach. He slipped down the aisle without drawing attention and found his seat with ease.
John watched Sherlock climb up and waited for several minutes before starting up the ladder. He paused at the top and when he didn't hear any noise he climbed up and moved quickly to his seat. "Right then." He shifted slightly with a small wince. One month without shagging and now he was just a tad sore.