Author's Note:
I love how cute this chapter turned out!
"You make me laugh," John whispered, turning his head to place a soft kiss on the crown of Sherlock's head. "You insist, day in and day out, that you are the dominant one in the relationship but the moment we are in bed." He wrapped his arms around his husband. "You curl into my like a little kid afraid of the thunderstorm." He shifted and tangled their legs together, his eyes slipping closed. "I am... sorry about earlier. I didn't mean to bring all that up," he whispered.
"Fine. I won't anymore," Sherlock muttered like the child he had just been accused of being. He stayed curled into John despite his previous statement. He tensed at his husband's last comment for a moment before forcing himself to relax. He had thought John wasn't going to bring it up again. "It is fine. You didn't know."
"I like it," John stated with a warm smile. In the beginning of their relationship John had always curled into Sherlock's side but now, he was feeling so protective of the man that he needed to have Sherlock against him like this to feel good. To sleep comfortably. He felt Sherlock tense and decided to move on. He wasn't going to sleep for a while; he was going to spend time with his husband. "I was thinking today." His hand moved gently up and down Sherlock's spine. "About how much I owe you because... you have literally saved my life more times than I can count."
Sherlock lifted his head to look up at John. "And you have done the same for me, my dear doctor." He gave his husband a smile and gave the other man a kiss on the cheek. He dropped his head back onto the shoulder, curling a little tighter into his partner. "I love you," he said quietly as he brought a hand up to run through John's hair.
John would never get tired of hearing Sherlock say that. The man in his arms claimed to not like emotions, to ignore them, but when he said 'I love you,' John knew it was real. It always was. "I love you, too," he whispered, his words slurring together a bit. "I am the luckiest man in the world," he added with a yawn. It didn't take long for his body to relax to the point where he was fighting sleep. "Scared to sleep," he said lowly, forcing his eyes open.
Sherlock grabbed one of John's hands and gave it a gentle squeeze. "No worries. I am right here. Just think about me before you go to sleep. How much better you sleep when I'm next to you." He gave his husband's shoulder a light kiss. His fingers in John's hair trailed soothingly through the short strands. While he held his husband's hand, his thumb also ran along the knuckles lightly.
Sherlock. Just think about Sherlock. John smiled briefly and finally gave in to his nagging mind. His body fell limp almost instantly and his chest moved in even, shallow breaths. His dreams were pleasant, more than pleasant, and he found himself waking up with his last dream making him moan softly. Shit, he had crashed. He must have really needed sleep. "Hi," he said sleepily, ended it with a yawn. The sun wasn't up yet but he figured that much. The time change was still taking some getting used to.
All night Sherlock stayed next to John, in hopes that his husband would be able to sleep soundly. He smiled at the man next to him. "Good morning. Well, it is technically morning despite it being dark out." He sat up slowly, stretching out his stiff, lanky limbs. "Do you want another omelet for breakfast? Or something dinner? I could bring it to you, if you want? Husbands do that for each other, don't they? The whole breakfast in bed thing?"
It was a bit too early in the morning for such a drastic change in Sherlock's demeanor and John just stared at him for a few moments, eyebrows furrowed together. It was too cold for him when his husband sat up and he curled slightly into himself, yanking at the blanket. "Toast?" He asked after a while, still staring at his husband with wide eyes. "Possibly some orange juice?"
Sherlock turned around to study John in the darkness with a thoughtful frown. "If you don't want it...I was just trying..." He trailed off, falling back into his pillow with a sigh. He turned away from his husband to pout, angry with himself. He had spent all night trying to figure out a way to make up for everything he had ruined yesterday: swimming lessons, not making dinner, John's plan for the Jacuzzi. He hadn't had the time to research how to be a good husband very much, but he had read an article online about breakfast in bed. It had seemed simple enough, but he'd even managed to screw that up already too. He was usually so cocky and confident, but when it came to trying to be a good husband he felt like he was drowning in failure.
John watched Sherlock for a long moment and glanced around the room for a long moment. "Sherlock, it's fine." He moved to press his chest against his husband's back, placing a kiss at the base of his neck. "I would love breakfast in bed. That would be wonderful." He moved an arm around to wrap around Sherlock. "It's just new for me to have all of this." To have him in bed, even. He wouldn't say that, though. It would only make things worse. "Toast and orange juice," he whispered into his husband's back. "And maybe something I can feed to you."
Sherlock relaxed into John's touch, his eyes closing. He didn't want to get out of bed now. Instead he just wanted to stay close to his husband for a little while. Clearly he needed to work on communication still because when he had tried to explain things he ended up pouting instead. Maybe after breakfast. He finally got out of bed and he grabbed his robe to help retain his body heat. He turned to John with a smirk. "You know what happened the last time you fed me, right?"
John turned to his back, stretching with a knowing grin. "I might be willing to accept those consequences," he replied with a wink. "I know we are supposed to behave today but I just love feeding you food." He shifted on the bed and stood up, pressing his bare body against Sherlock as he stood on his toes to give him a slow kiss. "I love you." He pulled away and fell back on to the bed.
"It is our honeymoon, we can do whatever we want. Besides, I never was very good at behaving anyway." Sherlock smirked at John again. "If you aren't careful my dear doctor, I might forgo breakfast and have something else to eat." He flashed another smirk and then left the bedroom. He looked in the pantry for bread. He found white, wheat, rye, sour dough, potato and raisin bread. He groaned at the selection and grabbed three of them. He put a slice of white and wheat in the toaster and pressed the button down. He grabbed a glass and the orange juice. He poured the juice in the glass when he smelled something burning. He glanced up to see smoke coming from the toaster. Something wet and sticky covered his hand holding the glass. Damn it, the juice. He slammed the carton down in frustration, ignoring the liquid dripping from the counter to the floor. He ran to the toaster and forced the toast up. Naturally, the toaster had been set at the highest level for no real reason he could foresee. "Uh John...it is going to be a minute. I decided to make myself a cup of tea." With a groan, he leaned his head against the side of the microwave. Hopefully his husband wouldn't come to investigate.
John slowly climbed out of bed. It smelled like burning toast, a smell that he knew a bit too well because Harry did it every morning when she had been drunk. He pulled a fresh pair of boxers on and walked hesitantly out of the bedroom. Oh. There was juice everywhere and the burning toast was still smoking a bit. "It is fine." John moved into the kitchen, grabbing a rag and wetting it in the sink. "You are fine, c'mere." He grabbed Sherlock's hand and smiled when it was sticky. He moved the rag over his husband's skin, pulling him close and giving him a quick kiss. "Love you." He moved to start cleaning the floor and counter, tossing the rag in the sink when he was done. Right, burnt toast. He moved to the toaster and grabbed the two ruined pieces, moving to toss them in the trash before putting two more slices in and adjusting the time. "There. All fixed." He move to wrap his arms around his husband, placing several soft kiss on the underside of his husband's jaw.
Sherlock groaned again when he saw John enter the kitchen. "Now you see why I don't try and do domestic things," he mumbled but smirked anyway. He tilted his head up so his husband had more places to kiss. He wrapped his arms around John in a hug, his head resting atop of his partner's.
John smirked against his husband's neck. Of course he would just throw his head back and beg silently. "You managed a lovely omelet yesterday," he whispered as his tongue darted out to lap at the tendon in Sherlock's neck. "It is the thought that counts." One hand slid down to squeeze at his husband's ass. "I will have you practice a bit." He nipped at the skin beneath his mouth.
Sherlock gave a slight shrug. "Making an omelet requires a little skill, so I think it is why it turned out okay. I have spent my whole life trying to do amazing and extraordinary things, which I am very good at by the way, that doing normal, simple little things are impossible. Like when I took little Sandi home from the hospital, for the life of me I couldn't get her buckled in right. Mycroft ended up doing it..." He shrugged again, pulling John into a tighter hug.
"It is fine," John muttered, pulling his mouth away from his husband's neck to bury his face into his chest. "I understand that certain things take some getting used to and married life is going to be one of them." He smiled slightly and closed his eyes. "You are learning, though. You can take care of Amy so well, you can care for me. Sherlock, last night you laid in bed while I slept so I wouldn't have a nightmare. I don't think you would have done that a year ago, even when we were still dating."
Sherlock lifted his head so he could look down at John. "I guess you are right." He released his husband and walked over to the toaster. He was determined to at least finish making the breakfast. "Butter my dear doctor?" He asked as he took the toast out and put it onto a plate. He put raisin bread in the toaster for himself and pushed the button down.
"Just jam for me, thanks," John replied with a soft smile. He watched his husband as he leaned against the counter with his hip, crossing his arms over his bare chest. "We still going to eat in bed, then? Because I am still feeding you." A hand moved to tug at Sherlock's robe with a small smirk. "Except, possibly not on the bed... might get crumbs all over and I just washed the sheets."
Sherlock turned to look at John with a smirk. "Seems to me, the sheets might get washed a lot. I am sure there are spares in the linen closet, so we won't have to wash them repeatedly." He turned back around, walked over to the refrigerator and opened it. "Strawberry, grape, or raspberry? Mum gave us wide variety of everything."
"Raspberry," John replied smoothly, letting his eyes travel down Sherlock's back with a raised brow. "Keep it out," he muttered as an afterthought, tugging at his husband's robe again. Christ, if Sherlock didn't stop look so irresistible they were going to have heart attacks. He didn't want to stop shagging his husband but, at this point, he was worried he might even have trouble getting an erection. "Want to lick it off you," he said with a smirk.
"Of course you do." Sherlock smirked back and grabbed the jar of jam. He used a knife to spread the raspberry jam onto the toast. "OJ is on the counter over there," he said as he handed John the plate. His toast popped up and put butter on it and then cut it in half. He got out milk, put it in a small sauce pan began boiling it on the stove. He added cocoa when it was done, stirred it and then put it in a mug. He dipped the toast in the hot chocolate before taking a bite.
John laughed as he pour himself a cup of orange juice, watching his husband curiously. "Making hot chocolate on the stove: simple. Pouring orange juice: difficult." He laughed again and shrugged, moving over to his husband. Chocolate. He set his glass down roughly, some of the juice sloshing over the sides, and pulling his husband down for a kiss. In no time at all his tongue was in Sherlock's mouth, moving around eagerly. God, he tasted like chocolate and raisins and it was perfect.
Sherlock gave a faint smirk. "Charlie used to make it like that for me when I was younger. You should have seen the mess I made when I first tried to make it." The smirk got bigger. He almost dropped his mug since he hadn't been expecting the kiss. He returned it though, feeling around behind him to put the cup of hot cocoa down on the counter and then wrapped both arms his husband. He continued the kiss eagerly, his body pressing into John's.
John moaned softly and pulled away, panting and blushing. "Take another drink," he said through a deep breath, nodding toward the cup behind his husband. "Please, take another drink," he nearly begged. The taste of chocolate in Sherlock's mouth had been a perfect mix for that the man usually tasted like. Rich, sweet. He moaned at the thought again and reached behind his husband, grabbing the mug of hot chocolate and putting it up to Sherlock's lips.
Sherlock was about to reach around for the cup when John put the mug to his lips. He raised his eyebrows questioningly but took another drink anyway. He took the mug away from his husband and leaned in for second kiss. John had seemed to rather enjoy the kissing after having had the hot chocolate. He didn't want to disappoint his husband and his tongue went to explore the other mouth immediately.
John stood on his toes and pinned Sherlock to the counter, his hands tangling in his husband's hair as he returned the kiss. Why hadn't he tried this before? It was glorious and he never wanted to stop. Except he probably should because Sherlock had been eating. He pulled away slowly, licking Sherlock's lips before his own, and grinning slightly. "Sorry... I just..." He cleared his throat and reached over, picking up Sherlock's piece of toast and holding it up for him to take a bite. "That was good."
Sherlock smirked down at John. "Like that did you?" He leaned forward and took a bite of the food, his tongue purposefully running along his husband's finger. "Maybe we should use the chocolate syrup instead of the raspberry jam." The smirk got bigger and he took another bite of the toast, his tongue lapping at John's fingers once more. He brought the mug up to his lips, took a drink and then leaned down to kiss his husband again.
Oh, good Lord. Sherlock was teasing him. John moaned into the kiss, placing the bread on the counter and returning it the best he could. Sherlock's mouth was warm and sweet and John couldn't stop kissing him. Now he couldn't decide if he wanted Sherlock's tongue in his mouth or on his fingers. Bloody husband, being so damn wonderful at everything. His lips and tongue moved slowly, taking everything in, as his hips pressed forward slowly.
Sherlock moaned into the kiss when John's hips pressed against his. He pressed back eagerly, the kiss getting a little more aggressive in his excitement. He wasn't sure if he was going to be able to get an erection after everything they had done, but this was feeling wonderful and he didn't want it to stop. His free hand wrapped around his husband, fingers scratching at the bare back.
It wasn't a surprise that their morning ended up here. Pressed against a kitchen counter, snogging and rutting against each other. John was sexually exhausted, that wasn't a surprise either, but being close to Sherlock was nice. It was something he had missed for a month. He pulled away from his husband with a small whimper, taking several deep breaths and slowly opening his eyes. "I love you," he whispered with a sheepish smile.
Sherlock smiled down at John. "I love you too." He gave a small kiss on his husband's nose. He finished off his hot chocolate and set the empty mug on the counter. "Now that we have had a most delicious breakfast what else would you like to do today my dear doctor? Did you still want to visit the village up the way or did you want to stay in?" He smiled suggestively, but he honestly wasn't sure if he would be able to perform at all today.
That mischievous smile on his husband's face could only mean one thing, but John couldn't do anything today. He didn't even get an erection during that kissing. "Village," he said with a soft smile. "I will buy you something. Your brother put my last Army paycheck in my bank account." He placed a soft kiss against Sherlock's neck and glanced toward the bedroom. "And maybe tonight we will put the chocolate syrup to good use." He winked at his husband and moved into the bedroom with a small laugh.
Sherlock was actually okay with that and nodded in agreement. As he followed John into the bedroom he couldn't help but smirk. "That is going to be terribly messy but very fun." His Mum had given him money, despite his protests against it. He kept that to himself for now, since John seemed intent on spending his own. "I am going to shower, want to join me?" There hadn't be anything sexual about the question, he had merely wanted John's company.
"You said we had extra sheets," John shot back over his shoulder with a grin. "So messy is a risk I am willing to take," he added as he pulled his boxers off and tossed them across the room with a laugh. "Why not? We will save water and I will get to enjoy your slightly tan body." He brushed by Sherlock and turned the water to the shower on, stepping in. There was a lot of room and he was fairly sure that at some point they would have sex in it. "Any idea on what you might like?" He stood under the spray with a sigh, his body relaxing. "Shirt? Fancy tourist blanket?" He laughed.
Sherlock followed John into the bathroom and then the shower. "We should probably get extra sheets, just in case." He smirked and grabbed the bottle of shampoo. He put some on his hand and then scrubbed it into his husband's hair, scratching lightly.
John relaxed instantly, leaning against his husband with a sigh. That was wonderful. Sherlock's hand in his hair was his favorite thing in the world. He let his eyes slipped close as he chuckled slightly. "You think we will really need them?" He asked with another laugh, a hand dropping to scratch slightly at his husband's side.
Sherlock moved slightly to the side so the spray of water could rinse out John's hair. He smirked and then shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe. You said something about flavored lube and we are definitely trying those out." The smirk got bigger as he grabbed the conditioner and applied it to his husband's head.
John tensed. Oh, right. Flavored. He winced slightly. "Why exactly is it flavored?" He asked softly. "I... don't exactly want to lick your arse," he muttered. "I mean, no offense, you've got a wonderful arse, Sherlock, but I am not so keen on putting my mouth all over it." He was blushing now, felt the heat spreading across his face to the tip of his ears. "This is embarrassing."
Sherlock couldn't help but laugh. "Oh my dear doctor, no no no. I mean, some people are into that I am sure. You would not believe some of the things I have read in those books about sex. Speaking of books on sex, for some reason Mummy thought I would be interested in some book called '50 Shades of Grey' to give me something to read while we are honeymoon. Not impressed so far... Anyway, I was thinking the lube could be used for blowjobs? Maybe? If you would want to try that?" He moved again so John's hair could get rinsed.
"Your Mum gave you that book?" John sputtered slightly on some water, finding it difficult to decide if he was laughing or starting to cry. "What, has she not heard us? That was the last thing we need is some horrid book about sex," he muttered, clearly a bit put off by the idea. "I... wouldn't mind using it for blow jobs." He shrugged and relaxed a bit more as the warm water rinsed his hair and ran down his body. "I mean, they have got quite an impressive array of flavors. I've never had a problem with... the taste but sure."
Sherlock raised his eyebrows. "You've heard of it? Have you read it?" He was genuinely curious now. He had never heard of the book until his mother had given it to him. Was it popular? His Mum had insisted it was a good read and so he had accepted it with some reluctance. He picked up a bar of soap and began to lather John's body up.
"I have heard of it, yeah," John slurred out at the feeling of Sherlock washing his body. "Haven't read it though. Harry told me it was rubbish. If Harry doesn't like it then it must be horrible. Learned that when I was fifteen," he said with a weak smile. "Have you started reading it?" He asked curiously, opening his eyes to glance up at his husband.
"I mustered through the first chapter while you slept last night." Sherlock shrugged a bit. "Like I said, not impressed so far. Not sure I will finish it. It is on the nightstand if you want to read it." He moved yet again, putting the soap away and grabbed the bottle of shampoo for a second time. He added it to his hair, still staying out of the spray until it was time to rinse.
John giggled and turned, pushing his husband's hands away so he could reach up and wash his hair. "Sherlock, that book will possibly drop your I.Q. so don't read it. Let's burn it. Toss it in the ocean." He placed a kiss on Sherlock's cheek as he continued to wash his hair. Good Lord, only the Holmes family would give a book about sex to each other. On a bloody honeymoon, of all things.
Sherlock dropped his hands to his side and leaned over, to let John work on his head. "So it is a book that Anderson would read." He smirked a bit. "The book belongs to my mother. Pretty sure she is expecting to get it back once we return back home."
John laughed softly but it was cut short at the mention of Nancy. "I... that's... I feel like she can do better than that book," he whispered as he pushed his husband's head up to rinse the shampoo out. He grabbed the soap and held it under the spray for a moment before starting to clean Sherlock's body. "What flavor lube do you want to use then?" He asked softly as the soap ran down Sherlock's chest.
Sherlock shrugged. "Maybe. Guess she thought I would like it too." His eyes closed in contentment when John soaped up his body. "I don't know. I will have to look at the different flavors, see if anything catches my interest. Unless you had one in mind my dear doctor?"
"I have already got one picked out for me," John admitted softly, moving Sherlock under the spray of the water with an embarrassed smile. He had gone through every flavor while Sherlock was asleep, half mortified and half interested. "Grape," he whispered against his husband's ear as he reached for the conditioner.
Sherlock nodded with a smirk. The feeling of John's hands on his body felt wonderful and relaxing, his eyes remaining closed. "Did you want to eat lunch in the village?" He probably wouldn't eat again until tomorrow sometime but he knew his husband would need to eat more often than he did.
"Sure." John reached up at started working the conditioner into Sherlock's hair. "Try some wine," he stated with a soft smile. "I bet the food here is amazing. Pizza. I want to try pizza," he stated excitedly. Just the thought made his stomach growl, the noise echoing through the large shower. "Would you want some coffee while we are up there?" Don't push the subject. Don't force Sherlock to eat. That was what had ruined the first month of their marriage.
"Maybe. If I am feeling up to when the time comes." Sherlock shrugged again. "Your hands feel wonderful," he admitted as he opened his eyes. He smiled down at John and then kissed him on the lips. It was difficult for him to keep his hands off his husband. The last month had been hard and he was still trying to make up for lost time.
John grinned into the kiss, nipping at Sherlock's bottom lip. "I know. Every part of me is perfect, really," he replied. Perhaps trying out some of Sherlock's confidence would help him around his husband. He pushed Sherlock's head back into the spray and stood on his toes to kiss his husband again. It was nice not running out of hot water, he thought as he pushed Sherlock up against the wall.
Sherlock smirked and backed up into the wall without protest. He wrapped his arms around John, and kissed his husband again. This time his tongue darted out and began exploring the other man's mouth eagerly. He pulled John closer still, moaning into the kiss.
That moan, good Lord. Sherlock's voice was enough but when John got that noise out of him, he always wanted more. He grinned against his husband's lips and took a deep breath through his nose. Bloody wonderful kisser. He pulled away to suck in a deep breath, moving his mouth to Sherlock's neck without a second thought. "Love you," he murmured into his husband's skin.
Sherlock hadn't meant to start anything in the shower but he certainly didn't mind how things were turning out. He tilted his head up for John, with another moan. "Love you too." His eyes closed, finding bliss in this particular moment. He began trailing his fingers lightly along his husband's slick back.
Right. So even as adults they acted like teenagers in that every situation between them had to be sexual at some point. Granted, they hadn't really done much since the night of their wedding but John couldn't help but laugh and pull away from Sherlock's neck, looking up at him. "Sorry, I just ruined your unromantic shower plans," he said with a soft smile, glancing toward the glass door to the shower. "I can't do anything right now, sorry." He placed a soft kiss on Sherlock's lips.
Sherlock opened his eyes to look down at John, a smirk tugging at his lips. "It is fine. Not sure I could do anything either." He reached behind him and turned off the shower before stepping out of it. He grabbed a towel and began drying himself off as he walked into the bedroom. Once dry, he let the towel drop to the floor and he took out a nice button up shirt and slacks. Even on vacation he had nice clothes to wear.