Author's Note:
Time to kiss and make up! Than you so much for all the lovely reviews!
John fell asleep almost instantly, staying asleep for several hours. He woke up slowly with a groan. Shit, the sun was shining right in his eyes. Had he...? Oh. The wine tasting. And... he had called his husband a bad shag. Not good. He stood slowly, blinking several times before moving into the kitchen. "Hi," he muttered at his husband. "I ruined your day, didn't I?"
After awhile, Sherlock lost track of time and eventually put his head on the table to rest. He didn't sleep but John speaking startled him. He lifted his head to look at his husband. He gave a small smile and shrugged. "It wasn't what I had in mind," he admitted.
John blushed slightly. "You aren't a bad shag," he said softly as he sat across from his husband. "And... sorry about, um, what I told you." He smiled briefly. "Kind of a lightweight these days. Didn't know you were supposed to spit it back out." He reached across the table and grabbed Sherlock's hand. "You have some will power. When I am drunk I want sex. A lot. You stayed strong," he half joked.
Sherlock raised his eyebrows a bit. "I tried to tell you, but I guess you didn't feel like listening." He smirked and then gave a slight shrug. "And like I said I won't shag you while you are drunk." He looked up at John and held the gaze, his voice firm and filled with resolve.
"Admittedly I was a bit focused on trying to find a pet name to call you," John said with a small smile. "Thank you," he held his husband's gaze and nodded. "I respect you for that." And he did. They both would have regretted it the moment they were done. "And if you ever get drunk I will hold the same promise. We probably shouldn't both get drunk."
"I don't plan on getting drunk again. Once is enough for me, but thank you." Sherlock gave a slight smile and stood up from the table. "Sit down, I will make you some tea." He put the kettle on with practiced ease and got out two mugs. "Are you hungry? I can try to cook for you and hopefully I won't set anything on fire."
John shook his head at the mention of food. "Probably just throw it back up," he muttered with a small laugh. It felt a bit tense to him, like Sherlock was still a bit upset. "I'm sorry, Sherlock," he said softly. He stood up, wrapping his arms around his husband's waist. "Thank you for putting up with me." He placed a soft kiss on the center of Sherlock's chest.
Sherlock returned the hug, his head resting on John's head. "It is fine." He squeezed his husband toward him slightly. He stood up straight and released John when he heard the kettle go off. He poured the hot liquid into the cups. He added sugar to one and milk to another.
"Good." John smiled and grabbed his cup, sipping it with a small smile. "How do you know how to put the perfect amount of sugar in?" He asked softly as he fell back into his chair. Alright, so not as upset as he thought. Considering he called his husband a 'horrible shag' things were going a lot better then he thought they would. "I... told you about the drinking, didn't I?"
Sherlock smirked. "Because I am good at everything I do. Except make toast, apparently." The smirk got bigger as he took a sip of tea. He nodded. "Yes, you did. It is fine. I told you about my drug problem. We just chose different vices to relieve the stress." He shrugged slightly and took another drink from the cup.
Right. He had planned on keeping that a bit of a secret from Sherlock. John's husband didn't need to know about the drinking. At all. "Sorry," he muttered into his cup, taking a large gulp. It was the middle of the afternoon, three according to the bright lights on the microwave. "Do you know what I just realized?" He grinned and bit his bottom lip. "I gave you a blow job in the dressing room of an expensive Italian clothing store." He giggled and set his cup down, shifting so his foot could rest on Sherlock's knee under the table.
Sherlock wasn't entirely sure why John was apologizing but he nodded anyway. He couldn't help but smirk at his husband. "Yes, you did. Luckily we didn't get caught. If Mycroft had to get out of prison, he would most certainly have not been amused." He finished off his tea and lifted his other foot to rest on John's.
"That was... I have never done anything like that." John laughed and pushed his cup away slightly. "It made me realize how old I am compared to you... or, rather, how long three years actually is. Honestly, I couldn't get hard to save my life." He licked his lips nervously. Shit, they were going to have to take it easy for the rest of the honeymoon or Sherlock would be getting a lot of the action compared to him. "Any idea what you want to do the rest of the day?"
Sherlock had never really thought about the age difference between them. Perhaps he should show a little more self control. It wasn't fair to John otherwise, he supposed. He wasn't sure what to do with the rest of the day. "Maybe you could give me more swimming lessons and this time I will actually make dinner. Still owe you that."
"Didn't mind making you dinner," John commented softly, smiling a bit. "But why don't we do that? Teaching you to swim. That ended... pleasantly last time but we need you to learn to swim." The foot on Sherlock's knee wiggled up a bit and he slipped lower in his chair to reach. "I am determined." And he was because teaching Sherlock how to swim was just like Sherlock teaching him to dance. Something he wanted to do.
Sherlock stood with a nod of his head. He grabbed their cups and put them in the sink before heading to the bedroom to change. "I still can't believe you talked me into buying this..." He looked down at the suit and then glanced back up to John with a smirk. He grabbed a towel and the sunscreen. "Also, I look weird not pale..." he muttered to his already vaguely tan body.
"It is a nice suit." John grabbed his own and slowly started undressing, slipping it on with a glance in the direction of his husband. It was a bit odd to see his husband slightly tan. "I think you look wonderful." He moved forward and embraced his husband, standing slightly on his toes to place several soft kisses on Sherlock's neck. "It looks a bit nice, you know. Who knows, you might be as tan as me when we leave."
John's kisses made it hard to maintain the self control he had told himself he needed to have. "Mmm, maybe." Sherlock wasn't entirely sure he liked the idea of being tan. It wasn't that he abhorred going outside, but he was usually bundled up in a coat and scarf so his body had never really gotten the chance to tan.
John decided that Sherlock's neck was quiet the wonderful distraction. He let his tongue dart out, running up a tendon at the front of his husband's neck. "No pressure to get tan," he whispered, lowering his mouth to Sherlock's collarbone. "I like you however you are. You are beautiful." He let one hand drift to Sherlock's ass, giving it a soft squeeze.
So, much for self control. Sherlock pressed into John, despite his an inability to get hard right now. He wasn't sure how long he would have to wait until he was capable of getting an erection again. Probably not until tomorrow sometime. But damn, his husband's mouth on his body felt wonderful. He brought his hands up so he could scratch at John's back lightly, his body still pressing into his husband's.
It didn't matter that John couldn't get an erection, just being close to Sherlock, having him press against him like he was, was wonderful. He sucked at Sherlock's collarbone and squeezed his husband's ass again. Sod swimming. He would rather stay here and spoil his husband. "Love you," he whispered against Sherlock's chest, bending at his knees to suck at Sherlock's left nipple.
Well, swimming lessons certainly seemed out of the question at this point. Or at the very least delayed. It would probably be easier if they were laying down. Sherlock moved backward onto the bed, his hand grabbing John's wrist lightly and pulling his husband with him. He laid down on the bed, his body pressing into the man above him.
Perfect. There were advantages to being married to a genius. John followed Sherlock with a small gasp, nipped at the top of the scar that ran down the center of his chest. They couldn't shag but John was perfectly content to practically worshiping Sherlock's body. He pushed his dog tags up his husband's chest and let his mouth run along the scar slowly.
Sherlock wasn't sure what to do with himself as John began to pay attention to pretty much his entire body. He continued to press into his husband, his arms wrapping around the man above him. One hand scratched on John's back, while the other rifted through his husband's hair. God, he wished he could get another erection right now because he wanted to shag John again.
John smirked slightly against Sherlock's chest. Now was a perfect time admire the man he married, even with that man squirming beneath him desperately. He turned his head, moving up slightly to place an open mouthed kiss on his husband's bicep, one of his hands lifting to run through Sherlock's hair. No talking. That would only result in Sherlock's cocky little comments. He settled for nipping at the skin on the inside of his husband's arm. "Love you," he whispered as he dropped his head and pressed his nose against Sherlock's jaw line.
When John's head came close enough, Sherlock began nibbling on the nearest ear eagerly."Love you too," he said into the ear he was lavishing with his tongue. He bucked into his husband even more, with a whimper of desire. Damn it. He wanted his partner desperately with every passing touch and kiss but there was nothing he could do with his pressing desire. His fingers dug a little deeper into John's skin in his frustration.
John gasped slightly from the attention, letting his hips roll into Sherlock's for a moment. This was supposed to be about his husband but he figured he could take some attention for a moment. Sherlock was always good with his mouth anyway. "Shit," he hissed as he felt his husband's fingernails. He pulled his ear away from Sherlock's mouth and turned his head, nipping at his partner's ear with a small moan.
Sherlock turned his head to meet John's mouth, his tongue taking no time at all to explore the other mouth. Making out helped ease some of the frustration he was feeling, his fingers not scratching as roughly as they had been. He continued to writhe into his husband with want but the desired result still refused to come about.
Right. Snogging. John gasped slightly into the kiss, letting Sherlock control it for a while. His tongue moved hesitantly into his husband's mouth. God, he wanted to be a few years younger, wanted Sherlock. "Want you," he finally admitted against Sherlock's lips. Except it seemed to be a bit of a problem for both of them right now, especially since he had given his husband a blow job earlier in the day in a dressing room.
Sherlock continued to kiss John and it got progressively more aggressive. When it broke to allow speaking he smirked a bit. "Want you too, but…" He trailed off with a faint shrug of his shoulders. At this rate he didn't care if he gave or received, he just wanted some form of shagging. Even though it was obvious neither were capable of getting erection right now. He moved in for another kiss, this time biting at John's lower lip.
Now. John wanted Sherlock now. "Force it up," he growled into the aggressive kiss. "Use your genius mind." It was an irrational thought, he knew, but irrational was all he could manage now. His hips started a soft, slow rhythm and John was hoping that it would help him. He returned the nip to Sherlock's bottom lip.
Sherlock snorted. Right. If he could he would. He matched the pace set by John. The friction caused by the suits felt wonderful but he still couldn't get an erection. At this rate he was certain they were going to go mad with desire. His fingers began scratching harshly again, and his tongue wiggled its way back into his husband's mouth.
If they didn't stop John was probably going to be bleeding from the amount of abuse Sherlock was putting him through. "Tonight I want you to make love to me," he whispered as he pulled away from his husband's lips. "Slow or fast or whatever. I want you." He met Sherlock's gaze. "Please."
Sherlock gave a small smile. "I would love to be able to promise you that, but I can't. I'm sorry John." He dropped the hand on his husband's back to his side and stopped squirming. "We can try though." His other hand was still in John's hair, his fingers rifling through the hair lightly.
John slowed down, managing to focus a bit and smiling down at his husband. "Try. Don't care, I want you so bad," he whispered. Christ, he sounded more desperate than he wished he would. But it was their honeymoon. Granted, they had shagged more in the past two days than they had for the past month. It was nice to have Sherlock constantly all over him, nice to see that the man still had a sex drive, but they had exhausted themselves. "Please, want to try." He swallowed hard and shifted, moving to rest with his head on his husband's chest.
Sherlock nodded, his arm coming back up to drape lazily over John's back. He continued to run his fingers through his husband's hair. This was nice too. It had been awhile since they had just laid together and snuggled. It was rather relaxing. "Love you," he said, as his eyes closed in contentment.
Here they were, on their bed in their swimming suits. John couldn't really complain, though. Resting on Sherlock... he hadn't done this in a while. He missed the warmth and protection he always felt when he was near him. "I love you, too," he muttered. He was probably going to fall asleep right here, on top of Sherlock. It would be wonderful, he figured. Always was when he was with his husband. "Do you mind if I take a little nap on top of you?" He finally asked with a yawn.
"Believe it or not, I was thinking about napping myself as well." Sherlock gave a slight smirk. "Comfortable and relaxed here with you," he admitted. They could lay like this in bed the rest of the day and he would be okay with that. He continued to run his fingers through John's hair soothingly.
"Good," John whispered at the feeling of Sherlock's fingers in his hair. He had grown it out just to please Sherlock and now it was even paying off for him. "Missed this," he said softly as his eyes finally slipped closed. It was an admission he had wanted to keep to himself but Sherlock should know that this was what he really loved about being married to Sherlock. Something he had missed in the past month. "Don't leave," he added, a bit desperately, as he finally fell asleep.
"Missed this too," Sherlock replied. His fingers began to slow and then stop moving as he gradually drifted off to sleep. "Won't leave," he muttered as an afterthought. He didn't want to anyway. Soon, his body was still except for his even breathing.
John woke up slowly, lifting his head with a groan. He had been drooling a bit on Sherlock's chest. He let his head drop back on to his husband's body as he glanced up at Sherlock's face. Asleep. And it was already dark outside. Apparently they had been more tired than they thought. Perhaps his husband wouldn't mind a small wake up call. He placed a soft kiss on the underside of Sherlock's jaw, sucking slightly at the skin as his hand scratched slightly at his ribs.
Sherlock groaned as he felt John moving. His eyes slowly fluttered open when his jaw was kissed. He hadn't realized he had been that tired, or maybe his bod was still adjusting to the time change. "Good morning, or well evening I suppose it is." He smirked a bit at his husband and then kissed the top of John's head.
"Eight in the evening, to be specific," John said with a soft smile, pulling away from his husband's jaw slowly. "Was going to wake you up with a blow job but I need you to myself." He rested his head on Sherlock's chest with a deep breath. "I love sleeping on you. Your breathing pattern is wonderful and your heart beat is amazingly slow."
Sherlock smirked a bit and then shrugged. "Still not sure I will be able to do anything but I did say I would try." Was this one of those romantic situations that he didn't know how to react to? He gave John a small smile, unsure what should be said at a time like this.
That silence was telling, John knew his husband. Awkward. Didn't know what to do. "I love you," he said softly, turning his head to place several soft kisses on Sherlock's chest. "You are wonderful." He lifted his head, wiggling slightly, and gently met his husband's lips.
"Love you too and I know." Sherlock smirked for a bit and then returned the kiss. He wrapped his other arm around John, to help hold his husband in place and to help draw the man on top of him even closer. He let his fingers trail lightly down John's back, trying to be careful not to scratch at the marks he had made last night.
John exhaled loudly through his nose and let his tongue slide into his husband's mouth, his body stretching slightly as he tried to curl his toes into the sheet between Sherlock's legs so his husband wouldn't be doing all of the work. "Hate you," he said jokingly.
Sherlock smirked. "You are just jealous that I am so amazing and perfect at everything." He brought one of his hands from John's back up to his husband's head and began running his fingers through it. "What do you want me to make you for dinner?" Maybe later tonight he would be able to give John what his husband wanted. He was certain he wouldn't be able to right now, so he wanted to avoid trying to start something he wouldn't be able to finish.
John chuckled softly and shrugged, licking his lips. "Surprise me. Make something complicated so you don't burn it." He bit his bottom lip as he let his eyes slip closed. That would mean Sherlock was going to have to get up, leaving the comfort of the bed. He yawned and dropped his head into the crook of Sherlock's neck. "Are you hungry at all?"
Sherlock gave John a twisted smirk. "It will be so complicated you won't even know what it is." He continued to run his fingers through his husband's hair. "Not really. Probably won't eat until tomorrow or the day after." He gave a slight shrug and gently rolled John off of him so he could get up off the bed.
John rolled on to his back with a small laugh, looking up at his husband with bright blue eyes. Christ, he wanted his husband. Their lack of control was biting him right in the ass. "Just make sure it tastes good, yeah?" He smiled softly and tugged his bottom lip between his teeth. If he didn't stop feeling like some horny teenager he had a feeling that their honeymoon was going to be over long before they had planned.
Sherlock got up off the bed and put on his robe. "It will taste so good, the omelet will seem like prison food." He smirked cockily. He walked out to the kitchen and tried to think of something to make. Preferably something he had seen made as a kid, because then he could just go off his memory. "John, is there anything you don't like? Peppers, onions, etcetera?" He walked back into the bedroom.
John stretched on the bed and had his swimming suit half-way down his thighs when Sherlock walked back in. At any other point in their lives he would have felt embarrassed but instead he relaxed, looking up at his husband with a small smirk. "I don't like fish," he replied softly, studying Sherlock in his robe slowly. "You know, weird things."
Sherlock returned the smirk. "So picky my dear doctor." The smirk got bigger. "Like what you see? It isn't easy to achieve this level of perfection, you know." He walked back to the kitchen and began rummaging through the pantry and refrigerator. He still wasn't entirely sure what to make yet. He began taking things out at random.
John laughed and slid off of the bed, pulling his suit off and grabbing a pair of pajama pants. He walked slowly into the kitchen, admiring Sherlock from behind before clearing his throat. "Stop being so perfect," he said with a small laugh. Christ, he was starving. "Literally, I don't care if I have to eat it off of you, I will eat anything right now."
Sherlock turned to face John, a smirk returning to his lips. "Well, you didn't give me much to go on food-wise so I am trying to remember dishes I have seen made. I had thought of beef stew but that takes all day to make so I am trying to think of an alternative. No thawed meat either…" He shrugged a bit and turned to examine the things he had set out.
"Just make a vegetable soup," John shrugged. It sounded delicious, they had beef broth in one of the cabinets. With just that and vegetables, he was sure it would be delicious. At this point it seemed like the only option they had. "Seems difficult enough, if you ask me." He moved to stand behind his husband, resting his head between Sherlock's shoulder blades as he wrapped his arms around his waist.
Sherlock nodded. "I'll make a salad with it. Do you want it lettuce or spinach based?" He diced up some vegetables while the he warmed the broth. Once the veggies were cut up he added them and a few other ingredients to the pot on the stove: carrots, potatoes, green beans, basil leaves, onions, celery, and just a bit of sorrel to give it a little more taste.
John pulled away from his husband with a soft smile. "Spinach," he replied softly as he sat down at the table. Watching Sherlock cook was like going to one of those dances downtown. He looked so wonderful doing it, like it was something he did all of the time. John was a bit jealous because he just looked like some gnome when he tried to do the same thing. "You look good when you cook."
Sherlock nodded again and got out some fresh spinach. He diced up some more vegetables: carrots, a variety of bell peppers, radishes, cucumbers, tomatoes and onions. To show off he did a little spin move as he turned to face John, the knife still in his hand and pointed in the air. He had a smirk on his face. "I look good no matter what I do." He did the same spin move, grabbed some shredded cheese and added it to the salad. "Salad dressing my dear doctor?"
John giggled and buried his face in his arms, looking up at his husband as a blush spread across his cheeks. "You are ridiculous," he said softly, shrugging his shoulders. "I don't care. I will eat whatever." He smirked softly and studied Sherlock. "You don't look good when you do everything. Your face when you climax." He giggled and closed his eyes, his face pressed into his arms again.
Sherlock smirked, even though John couldn't see it. "Me? You are one to talk." He grabbed balsamic vinaigrette and olive oil. He topped it off with croutons. He picked up the bowl and a fork. He turned around once more, walked over to his husband and put the food on the table. "Soup will be done soon."
John's head shot up. "Oi!" He laughed loudly and eyed the salad, biting his bottom lip. "So we both look a bit unattractive when we climax," he muttered, shoving a large bite of the salad in his mouth. "I am just proud I got you to start making some sort of noise!" He took another large bite and watched his husband with a small laugh. Joking, laughing. This was perfect.
Sherlock shrugged a bit. "Well, I discovered it was more exciting that way. You also seem to really like it." Once the soup was ready he poured it into a bowl. "Do you want bread or crackers?" He set the soup down in front of John. "Salad okay? Anything to drink? And don't forget to tip your waiter. Although, I'm sure you can find other means of payment if you are short on cash." His smirk returned.
John pushed the empty salad bowl away with a small laugh. "Water?" He questioned softly before taking a large spoonful of soup into his mouth. He let out a groan of happiness, looking up at his husband. "Oi, don't say shit like that when neither of us can get a hard-on," he muttered with a small grin. "I will shower you or something, yeah?" He took another spoonful of soup and made another noise.
Sherlock grinned. "You like it then?" He was clearly pleased with himself. He got a bottled water from the refrigerator. He returned back to John and placed the bottle on the table. "Should be ready by tomorrow morning, at the latest. Did you still want to try tonight? Or maybe we should slow down a bit so we aren't having this problem the whole honeymoon?" He sat down next to his husband.
"'S good," John said with a nod, opening the water and taking several large gulps. God, he wanted to shag his husband tonight. Wanted to claw at Sherlock's back and beg him to never stop. But... they still had a long time left. "We should probably wait," he said softly pushing the half-finished bowl of soup away as he let his hand fall on Sherlock's thigh. "We could... talk tonight. Do something."
Sherlock nodded in agreement and he smirked when he felt John's hand on his thigh. His husband wanted to talk? Regular, ordinary chit-chat or some sort of serious talk? "What do you want to talk about or do tonight?" He honestly didn't know what couples did still and he wasn't sure if he would ever really figure it out.