Author's Note:
When you get to name of the yacht, it is pronounced 'Homey.' I thought it was cute, okay? DON'T JUDGE ME! Erm. Ahem. Thank you so much to those who are leaving reviews!
Sherlock smirked again, even though John couldn't see it right now. "Mmm, I could get used to it. It is true." The smirk got bigger at his own cockiness. He released his husband from the hug. "It gets cold out on the sea at night, you will want to wear something warmer." He got up off the bed and began putting the outfit John had bought him back on. He regretted not bringing his coat now but there should be jackets in the boat house.
John tensed as Sherlock pulled away but slid out of bed as well, going through his luggage. He pulled his swim suit off and pulled on a pair of boxers and then some jeans. "Bring a bag," he stated over his shoulder. "You know, lube. Pajamas." He pulled a white shirt over his head and then his green jacket over his shoulders. "I have got..." He cleared his throat and reached into his bag, tossing a box of condoms toward his husband. "Ribbed. Thought we could try it." He blushed and looked away from Sherlock.
Sherlock grabbed a bag like John asked and packed a few things inside. He caught the box with a confused look. "Why do we need condoms?" It truly perplexed him, but he put them in the bag anyway. He grabbed regular bottles of lubrication and some flavored, just in case. Once he was satisfied it had the needed supplies, he zipped it up. "We will want to pack a cooler too. Unless you want to fish for food." He slung the bag over one shoulder. It had been a long time since he had been on a boat, since he was young. Probably since the last time he had been at this beach house. His parents owned it and they had gone on holiday here a few times during his childhood.
Oh God. John blushed. "Th-They are ribbed," he muttered as he walked closer to his husband. "Thought it might feel... different." He met Sherlock's gaze and nervously tugged his bottom lip between his teeth. "Wanted to try it." He swallowed hard and moved toward the kitchen. Food. He grabbed a cooler from under the sink, tossing some randomly grabbed food in before dumping ice in top. "Grabbed some steaks. Figured we could grill them," he stated softly as he moved back into the bedroom.
Ribbed? Was that supposed to mean something to him? It hadn't been in any of the books Sherlock had read. Guess he would just figure it out later. He followed after John and watched him dump the ice. "Could have just grabbed ice packs." He smirked a bit and grabbed some canned soda as well, dropping them on top of the ice. He grabbed a set of keys hanging by the front door. "Ready?"
Right. Ice packs. John was still so flustered about the condoms that he clearly wasn't thinking straight. "Yeah. Of course." He picked up the cooler with ease, following his husband out the door. "Did your Mum give you the yacht?" He glanced at Sherlock with a nervous smile, looking around as they walked.
"Not exactly. It is the family yacht. So is the beach house. We used to come here on occasion growing up," Sherlock admitted when he unlocked the padlock to the boat house. "Try not to laugh at the name of that yacht. Dad let mummy name it." It wasn't quite dark out yet but he flipped on the light anyway. The side of the yacht read 'Holme-y'. He thought it was a ridiculous name but his mother had thought it was cute.
John glanced between the yacht and his husband, letting out a loud snort. "That is good," he said as he lifted a hand to cover his mouth. "I am going to be shagged on the 'Holme-y' and let everybody know about it." He brushed past his husband, pushing the cooler on and climbing up himself. "Do you know how to dri- er, operate, this thing?"
"Of course you would," Sherlock muttered. He dropped the bag into the yacht before climbing in after John. "Yes, dad taught Mycroft and me." He began untying the ropes and then started it up. "Put the stuff down below?" He made sure the yacht was in reverse and then backed it out of the boathouse. Once they were out of the man-made inlet he turned the vessel around and began moving forward, picking up speed once they were far enough away from the shore and in deeper water.
John picked up the bag and dragged the cooler with him below the deck, his jaw dropping at how massive everything was. They were in a yacht and the bed was still huge. There was even room for a small kitchen. He shoved everything from the cooler into the small fridge, setting the bag next to the bed before going back up. "Amazing," he muttered as he moved behind Sherlock, pressing his forehead between his husband's shoulder blades.
Sherlock smirked and leaned into John a bit. "It is pretty nice." The further they went out, the windier it got since there was no land to break the wind flow. There wasn't any white caps and the sky was clear. They wouldn't have to worry about getting caught in a storm. He slowed down the yacht. "Take the wheel. Just keep it straight. I am going to release the sails. I would have you do it, but if you do it wrong the mast could swing around and knock you over board. Rather avoid that."
John swallowed hard and glanced at his husband before grabbing the wheel. Straight. He could do this. "Right. Okay." He nodded his head to reassure himself that he could do this. It was just steering a boat. No problem. "I think I have got this down," he shouted over his shoulder. "Not a problem. We should buy a yacht."
Once John took a hold of the steering wheel, he let go. It had been awhile since he had done this and it would have been easier if two people were doing it but a skilled person could do it on their own. Sherlock wouldn't quite consider himself that experienced but he went over everything mentally before untying ropes and using the pulley system.
Sailing was a bit more complicated than he ever thought. John watched Sherlock over his shoulder the best he could, taking occasional glances over so he could keep his eyes locked on the water in front of him. "Would it be too forward thinking to ask you to shag me on the deck?" He asked without glancing back at Sherlock.
"Give me a minute." Sherlock wasn't trying to ignore John, but this actually required his attention and concentration, especially since it had been years since he had last done this. It wasn't hard necessarily hard but it wasn't easy either. Eventually he got all the sails released and he walked back over to John. He cut the motor, letting the wind push them for now. It would save on gas. He wrapped his arms around his husband, resting his chin on the other man's shoulder and took the wheel to help John steer.
"You aren't going to get us lost, are you?" John pressed himself back into Sherlock. God, if they got lost nobody would find them. "You know, enough gas. A GPS or something so people can find us." He closed his eyes. Sherlock was watching everything in front of them, had the wheel. It was safe to just relax for a bit. "I want you to shag me on the deck in the middle of the night," he admitted softly.
"No, we won't get lost. But the yacht does have a GPS unit and even a depth finder. There is also a compass right here." Sherlock leaned forward and tapped an area near the helm. "We will be fine on gas and even if for some reason we run out there is a five gallon canister below deck. We can either anchor here or keep sailing for a bit. Do you have a preference?" He turned his head and gave the side of John's neck a kiss, sucking on it for a moment before pulling away.
"Don't care," John whispered, leaning further against his husband. "Up to you. Whatever you are more comfortable with." He tilted his head back, turning his head to suck at the skin under Sherlock's jaw. God, why was he so damn horny all of a sudden? Any movement that Sherlock made had him wiggling to get closer. "Sun goes down in about an hour," he stated against his husband's skin.
Sherlock lifted his head for John, eyes closing for a bit. "If you are interested in learning how to sail, we can anchor now and I can show you the ropes while there is still some daylight left." He smirked at his obvious pun, clearly pleased with himself despite how awful it had been. He gave a kiss to the top of his husband's head and then released John.
Learning things about the boat would result in being close to Sherlock, touching him. "Okay." He pulled away from Sherlock's skin with a parting nip pressing into his husband suggestively before locking his gaze forward. "What are you going to teach me, Captain?"
"I will teach you about tying knots first. Easy enough and one of the most important things while sailing except for the wind." Sherlock pressed a button near the steering wheel, and the anchor began to drop. The yacht slowed and finally came to a stop, when the anchor came to rest in the bottom of the sea. "I will be right back. We will practice on rope that isn't attached to important things." He walked below deck, lifted up the cushions to the makeshift couch and took out a coil of rope and then walked back up to John.
It seemed like Sherlock was all business while on board the yacht. John smiled and raised an eyebrow. "Sherlock, dear, I was in the Army. I know how to tie knots." He took the rope gently and unraveled it, wrapping part of it around his husband and pulled him closer. "Any particular knot you would like to see?"
Sherlock smirked at John and then raised an eyebrow. "You were in the Army not the Navy, John. There are six basic knots while sailing: thumb, square, figure eight, bowline, clove hitch, and a double half hitch. Do you know how to know to do all those, Captain." The smirk returned, while he waited to see what his husband could do. "If you can do those, we will skip that lesson."
Oh. Well, that was embarrassing. John swallowed hard and glanced down at the rope. "Um. Right." He took a deep breath and tried to move the rope slightly. "No." He looked up at his husband with wide eyes and cleared his throat. "That just seems overly complicated. And horrible. Why would somebody need all of those knots?"
Sherlock almost smacked his face in disbelief but resisted the urge. He smirked at John again. "Those are only six out of several. They are just the most common ones. Okay. Let us start with the thumb knot, it is the easiest to learn. Some people call it an overhand knot. Anyway, once made this knot is difficult to untie. So, it is only used in important places like jib sheet." He waved a dismissive hand. "I am getting ahead of myself. We will get into that later, maybe. Depends on how well you do with the knots first. Give me your arm, we'll use it as a make shift mast. I won't tie it tight, so it will be easy to undo."
John stared at his husband with his mouth slightly ajar. "Yes. Okay." He nodded and held his arm out, his fingers curling into a fist. Perhaps the Army hadn't prepared him for the wonderful Sherlock Holmes. He looked up at his husband and couldn't help the smile on his face, lop-sided and sincere. "Don't use this for evil."
Sherlock stared at John blankly for a moment but then a slow smirk spread across his lips. He hadn't even thought about that but now he couldn't help but think of doing something devious. "Well, you used to be in the Army so even if I did you would be fine, right?" The smirk got bigger, now seriously consider trying something new. The only problem was he wasn't sure if he would be able to do anything about it.
John held his husband's gaze in a challenge and eyed the rope. "Bet I would be fine," he commented softly. Could he? Hell, who cared. Sherlock tying him up seemed absolutely wonderful. "Try me." He took a step closer to his husband, uncurling his fingers and pressing his hand against Sherlock's chest. "Sherlock."
Well, that settled it. He could teach John about sailing another time. They still had plenty of time left on the honeymoon for that. He grabbed his husband by the wrists and pulled him over to the main mast head. He leaned into John, so that his partner's back was against the pole. He began kissing the other man instead, as he pressed their bodies closer together still.
John followed Sherlock's lead without a second thought, returning the kiss eagerly. Good. Very good. He nipped at his husband's bottom lip with a short moan. What had they been doing? Kissing Sherlock was probably the best distraction he could think of. He moved his hand to scratch gently at his husband's side, pushing his tongue into his partner's mouth.
Sherlock continued the kiss, his tongue moving to tangle with John's as he began breathing through his nose. He pressed tighter into his husband, writhing excitedly into John. He wanted to make sure he could get an erection before he tied up his husband.
John pulled away from the kiss with a small gasp, panting into Sherlock's neck as he pressed eagerly into his husband. "Ah, God," he whispered into Sherlock's neck, wrapping both of his arms around his partner to scratch at his back. The sun wasn't down but... weren't they tying knots? Maybe he had successfully distracted Sherlock and taken attention away from the boat.
Sherlock wasn't getting hard and he had a feeling the only result would be both them being sexually frustrated. He sighed, leaning his head against John's. "Think we are going to have to wait until tomorrow my dear doctor. Sorry." Hopefully though, by tomorrow he had be recuperated enough to shag his husband twice.
John gasped into Sherlock's neck, taking several deep breaths and nodding. "'S okay," he muttered. It had to be fine, they would get to shag eventually. Patience. If John was patient then everything would work out. He couldn't expect Sherlock to shag him every time that he wanted it. They had both managed to wear themselves out. "Love you."
"Love you too." Sherlock just stayed leaned into John for awhile, holding onto his husband in close hug. "Do you want to go below deck or stay up here? You should probably eat soon." He finally lifted his head from John's, but didn't lean up off his husband. Even though they spent practically all day together in bed, he still wasn't tired of being near John.
John looked up at his husband with a soft smile. "I am a bit hungry," he stated softly as one of his hands moved to rub through Sherlock's hair. "Brought steaks. I could cook them, if you are hungry. I am going to cook mine." He placed a soft kiss on his husband's lips. "Do you want to help me cook? We could turn it into a hot date." He paused and grinned. "Get it? Hot? Cause... cooking. I am an idiot."
"I'm not hungry but I can help you cook, if you want. Or try. Not really sure I know much about cooking steaks." Sherlock smirked down at John. "Usually explaining a joke ceases to make it funny, but yes John I got it the first time around." The smirk got bigger as he grabbed his husband's hand and then led them below deck.
John followed after his husband with a wide smile. "Simple. Is there a grill anywhere?" He glanced around the area a second time and squeezed Sherlock's hand. "I am horrible at jokes. Sorry. Let's just forget I tried to be funny." He opened the freezer and pulled one of the steaks out, placing it on the counter.
Sherlock began looking through the few cupboards the small kitchen offered. "I don't know. Maybe there is one of those small portable ones. Here…" He finally found one in the last cupboard. "We will want use this up top, not below deck. Don't want the cabin to fill with smoke or flames to be in such small place."
John grabbed the steak and moved above deck with ease, glancing back at his husband. "We should...talk..." He cleared his throat and took a deep breath. Good idea to do it now while he could be distracted. "The condoms," he managed a quick look in Sherlock's direction. "It is not because of diseases or anything. It's..." He ripped the steak open and shrugged. God, he was already blushing. "They have little ribs on the outside and... I thought..." He gently grabbed the grill, setting it up and placing his steak on it. "It would be different."
Talk? Sherlock froze on the last step because he thought John wanted to have another one of those serious discussion. Oh. Condoms. Why did they need to talk about them? He blinked, trying to focus on his husband's words but he was still trying to overcoming his confusion. He finally finished coming above deck and he sat down on one of the cushions on the side of yacht. John had said something about ribbed, right? "So, basically a different sensation while inside. Yeah?"
Right. Sherlock was very blunt. John took a deep breath and nodded, trying to force the blush from his cheeks. "Yeah." He turned the grill on and kept his eyes locked on the steak. "You aren't upset or anything, are you?" He moved his eyes hesitantly to his husband. "I thought it would be a bit rude but you are always up for something new and we can both try it." He poked at the steak with a small shrug.
Upset? "No, why would I be?" Sherlock frowned in confusion but it turned into a smirk. "Of course I am always up for something new. I'm surprised but pleased, not upset." He got up and moved over to John. He didn't want to hinder his husband during cooking, so he just placed his head into the back of his partner's neck.
Good. Better than he thought, really. "I don't know. Because I didn't want you to think that just you wasn't good enough." John smiled slightly at the pressure of his husband's head on the back of his neck. His free hand moved behind him, grabbing Sherlock's hand. "Now you know why I have been so desperate to shag you," he said with a small laugh. "They man at the store said...they were wonderful."
"The point of all the new things we try is to enhance the sexual experience. We will try the condoms tomorrow then." Sherlock returned the squeeze, pressing his body closer into John. He kissed his husband's neck. "Wish we didn't have to wait," he admitted quietly. He did like trying new things and now he was eager to do it. It was exciting to him that John had come up with it. His husband's last idea had been fun and he had a feeling tomorrow would be amazing as well.
"Please don't tease me," John whispered as he flipped his steak. The moment he decided to try the idea he had been so ready to shag his husband but had backed out at the last minute every time. He tugged his bottom lip between his teeth and pressed back into his husband. "I was thinking...tonight. Dark. On the deck." He dropped his head back and placed a soft kiss on his husband's jaw.
"Sorry," Sherlock muttered and was about to move away when he felt John's lips on his jaw. He gave a faint smile. "We can try, but no promises. I hope we can." And he did. Hell, he didn't even want to have to wait at all. He gave his husband another kiss on the neck and then finally moved back over to the seat cushion.
Why did he have to be cooking? John didn't want Sherlock to be away from him. "Just... rest. Maybe if you rest you will be ready to go," he suggested as he glanced at his husband. This was getting out of hand. He hadn't even wanted sex this bad when he was with women and now he was practically begging his husband to be inside of him. "I could, I don't know, talk to you? See if that helps?"
"Talk to me?" Sherlock echoed with raised eyebrows. "John, we have been rubbing up against each other all day without result. Not sure talking will help, but we can try it if you want to." He laid down on the cushions, his hands coming to rest behind his head as he stared up at the sky. It was almost completely dark now.
"I have a way with words." John smiled and pulled his steak off the grill, plopping it on a plate and cutting off a bite. He chewed it slowly and watched his husband. Dinner could wait. He swallowed his bite and moved to straddle his husband, placing several soft kisses on his neck. Talk. It should be simple. "I love the way you feel inside of me." He closed his eyes, sucking at the skin beneath his mouth. "The way you stretch me and use me." He let out a nervous breath. "You are magnificent when you pound into me, gasping and moaning."
Sherlock wasn't expecting to John to straddle him but it was a pleasant surprise. He smirked up at his husband. He bucked into the man above me in response with a slight whimper, his arms wrapping around John immediately. God, he wanted his husband badly right now. Maybe he could get hard this time around, even though they had tried just a few minutes before against the mast.
John smirked against his husband's neck. "God, you have a wonderful cock. It feels so great." He reached a hand between them to palm Sherlock through his pants. "So warm. Want you." He moved his mouth, sucking his husband's ear lobe into his mouth. "Love having your body above mine, love when I make you moan my name and mark me." His hand pressed harder against Sherlock's pants. "Fuck me, Sherlock."
So much was going on right now and his body loved every moment of it. Sherlock wanted nothing more than to comply with John's request. The hand on his penis made him whimper again, as he continued to press up into the man above with earnest. Nothing yet but maybe with some persistence and he would hopefully get there.
"Like that?" John smiled softly and nipped at the top of his husband's ear. "Oh, yes. You do. God, I can feel you. You feel wonderful already." He looked up at Sherlock for a moment before lowering himself, undoing Sherlock's jeans and pulling them down with his underwear. "You always feel wonderful in my mouth," he whispered against his husband's penis, slowly taking it into his mouth. Maybe this would help him.
"Oh God yes." Sherlock moaned when he felt John's mouth around his cock. He couldn't help but rock his hips up with a whimper but he managed to still himself afterward. He clawed at the cushions beneath him, eyes closing. His penis was gradually becoming firm but it wasn't quite hard enough for penetration yet.
John smirked the best he could, hallowing his cheeks out and swallowing around his husband's cock. So far it felt like it was going rather well. He hummed, closing his eyes and wrapping his hand around the part of Sherlock's penis he couldn't reach with his mouth. He opened his eyes to glance at his husband's hand clawing at the cushion beneath him. After several bobs of his head and pulled away with a parting lip to the tip. "God, that was wonderful, did you like that?" His hand pumped Sherlock's cock a few times.
When he felt John's mouth off his penis his eyes opened and his fingers didn't dig into the cushions as deeply. Sherlock glanced down at his husband with smirk, breathing slightly heavier than normal. "….Mmmm, 'sgood…" Without all the attention to haze his mind with emotions a thought occurred to him. "I think everything we need is below deck in the bag." He wasn't sure how long he would be able to maintain the erection he had right now.
"In this state we won't be shagging for very long," John stated softly, continuing to pump Sherlock's penis with slow, light strokes. "But if I work you up right now and leave you for a few hours..." He leaned forward and kissed the side of his husband's cock several times. "You will be better off later. I have planned this out." He took Sherlock's penis into his mouth again, exhaling loudly through his nose.
John's plan was to work him all up and then just leave him there? Sherlock couldn't fathom that but suddenly that didn't matter anymore when he felt his husband's mouth on his cock again. He let a moan of appreciation, eyes closing once more.
How much longer should John keep this up? If Sherlock reached orgasm he was screwed for a while. He pulled away slowly and smirked. "Damn, listen to you." He licked up the underside of his husband's cock. "You sound fucking amazing."
Sherlock whimpered when John licked his penis. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes. Self control was what he needed right now. He didn't want to ruin whatever plans his husband had made for them. His fingers slowly unfurled from the seat cushions. Wait. He didn't want to but he forced himself to be still and calm.
John sat up slowly, licking his lips. "Told you," he muttered with a smirk, moving to his feet and grabbing his dinner. He cut off another bite and chewed it slowly, studying his husband proudly. "If we wait you will be able to shag me."
Right. Wait. Sherlock didn't want to but he understood why. He just needed something else to think about. His hands came to rest behind his head as he looked up at the stars. He would never see a sky like this in London. He didn't know anything really about what was above him, but it gave him something to concentrate on.