Author's Note:
Some fighting, but it still a pretty good chapter I think.
Sherlock turned his head to look at John. He furrowed his brows as he studied his husband, who was most certainly not okay. "I'm sorry," he muttered. Well, that certainly hadn't been worth it. Sure he had gotten off and it felt amazing at the time, but he was feeling miserable at what he had done to John. Never before had he been so rough with his husband.
No. Sherlock wasn't supposed to know. "Fine. 'S fine," John whispered as he curled against Sherlock's side, ignoring his erection as he yanked a blanket up to his chin. The smell of the strawberry lube was making him sick to his stomach and he pressed his nose against the skin stretched across his husband's ribs. Better. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths.
"Do you…" Sherlock hesitated momentarily before continuing, "do you want me to finish you off at least?" He leaned his head into John's, trying to comfort his husband as best he could. He would have wrapped his arms around his partner in supportive hug but he didn't want to agitate all he marks he had left all over his husband.
John's body was practically begging for Sherlock's touch but for some reason he shook his head, taking a shaky breath and pressing his curled body closer to his husband's. He didn't know what he wanted now. Was this his fault? Shit. He hesitantly reached a hand out and let his arm rest across Sherlock's stomach. Maybe that would do, maybe now he would stop worrying.
Sherlock watched his husband, his brows furrowing further together in thought. "John, what's wrong? Talk to me? Please?" He could read his husband's body language as easily as reading a book. Something was wrong, but he didn't know what exactly. He placed a hand on top of John's gently, trying to give the other man some form of comfort.
John tensed for a moment at the feel of Sherlock's hand on his. "That was..." He snapped his mouth shut and cleared his throat. Don't complain. Soldiers didn't complain. But...husband's communicated. "You lost control, I think," he whispered like he was scared. "You scratched me and bit me... I-I know I asked for that but... I felt helpless." He shook his head. Talking had been a bad idea.
Oh. Oh. Oh God, what had he done? Sherlock pulled his hand away like he had been burned. This was even worse the night he had caught John with Sarah. How was that fucking possible? He muttered apologies repeatedly as he stood. He excused himself lamely and ran to the bathroom. He needed something to make this better. Make it stop. Maybe there was something in the medicine cabinet.
Damn it. John struggled to stand, his back burning and that was definitely blood running down from his shoulder. He stumbled out of the blankets and made his way to the bathroom, standing in the door way. "Can we talk about this?" He whispered hoarsely, his eyes watched Sherlock's frantic movements. "D-Don't do this." He moved in front of his husband so he couldn't see the medicine cabinet as well. "Can we?"
Talk? "What the fuck is there to talk about. I…I…" Sherlock screamed his rage. He wasn't mad at John, not by any means. He was furious with himself. God. He was going to be sick to his stomach. He was hyperventilating and he slumped to his knees unceremoniously. His body shook with his rage as breathing became more and more difficult for him.
In that moment John dropped to his knees. "In through your nose, out through your mouth," he stated calmly, his hands on each of his husband's cheeks. "Just take deep breaths. Nose, mouth," he whispered. Fuck. Well, he had certainly ruined their honeymoon, hadn't he? One request and when he had struggled to break, or move, or do anything, had made his husband feel like this. He clearly didn't deserve Sherlock. "We can talk about how I should have told you to stop," he whispered as he pulled Sherlock closer.
Breathe. Concentrate on breathing. Sherlock managed to take a deep intake of air and exhale it slowly. "I'm sorry. I should have…I was just trying…" He trailed off, shaking his head violently. Tears were brimming in his eyes. "I'll uh…" He cleared his throat. "I will just sleep on the yacht tonight. You can take the couch since the bed is still broken…" He trailed off, staring at the floor, unable to look at John.
"Shhhh," John reached his thumb out to run across Sherlock's cheekbone. "I asked you to do that, alright?" He shook his head and studied his husband with a frown. "You are sleeping with me on the floor. We have made a bed there in front of the fireplace," he whispered with a small nod. "Don't do this, Sherlock. You are fine." And he was. John couldn't sleep alone. After last month he knew he couldn't. "U-Unless you want to sleep alone tonight," he added feebly.
Sherlock shook his head violently for a second time. "No, of course not. I just thought…didn't think you would want…Oh God John I am so sorry…" Usually being articulate wasn't a problem for him but every time he tried to talk, his words came out rushed and fragmented. He leaned into his husband, his head coming to rest in the middle of John's chest. "I'm sorry," he repeated over and over again. The guilt and contrition were almost unbearable and he felt the first tear roll down his cheek.
John didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around Sherlock, holding him close and letting his eyes slip closed. "You are fine," he whispered. "I want to stay with you tonight because you are my husband." He pressed a kiss into his husband's hair. "I love you. I couldn't just let you run off like that." He ran a hand through Sherlock's hair. Keep him calm, that was all that matter. If he kept Sherlock calm then they might be able to talk a bit more. "You are fine."
Sherlock sniffled, refusing to let another tear to fall. John's arms around him had an almost instantaneous calming effect on him, his breathing evening out completely now. "I love you too." They really needed to start implementing that safety word, so nothing like this would ever happen again. "I'm okay now…I think…I really am sorry John." He finally lifted his head to look at his husband.
John met Sherlock's gaze and managed a weak, lop-sided smile. "I know." He placed a soft kiss on Sherlock's lips. "Cheesecake," he muttered into the kiss with a small laugh. Joke. Laugh. Make him feel better. That had to work. "I told you to do that stuff, yeah? It brought it on myself. I know I like it rough just...I found my limit today, didn't I?"
Sherlock managed a faint smirk. He gave a slight nod of his head, exhaling loudly and slowly. "I guess." He guessed that was supposed to make him feel better but it didn't. He definitely wasn't going to be in the mood to shag again anytime soon. Hopefully he hadn't ruined the rest of their honeymoon. They still had so many places and things to try.
Right. John had definitely ruined the day, that much he was certain. The only thing he wanted to do right now was lay down and let his body rest. "How about we go lay back down? We have still got a fire going," he whispered. He just wanted to snuggle into Sherlock and find some sort of comfort. Anything.
Sherlock didn't want to go lay back down but his husband most certainly needed it. Not so long ago, he would have pushed John away. He couldn't do that anymore. He was married. He was a husband now. He had responsibilities that encompassed more than his own selfish world. He stood up slowly and offered a hand to John, managing a small reassuring smile.
John took Sherlock's hand and stood, pressing his face into his husband's chest. All he wanted was to curl against him and be held. "Don't leave," he whispered as he slammed his eyes shut. God, he couldn't lose Sherlock. He couldn't lose his only source of comfort. "I'm sorry."
Confusion swept through Sherlock. What? Why was John worried he was going to leave? Why was his husband apologizing? He wrapped his arms around his partner in a tight hug. "Hey. I'm not going anywhere." He placed a kiss on top of John's head and then rested his chin on it. His husband needed comfort right now that much was obvious, even to him.
Staying. Sherlock was going to stay. John relaxed fractionally against his husband. He was exhausted after that. "Sleep?" He asked softly. "Want..." This was going to sound weak and needy but he didn't care. "I want you to hold me. Please." He pressed his face harder against his husband's chest. What had happened to him? One mistake and he couldn't control his bloody emotions.
Sherlock wasn't tired but he would hold John while his husband slept. "Come on then." He led them back to the pillows and blankets. He turned the gas on a bit more, so the fire would burn brighter. Once John was settled, he snuggled in next to his husband. He laid his head on John's shoulder, an arm draping over his husband's stomach.
John tensed before wiggling against Sherlock, wordlessly moving down and curl into his husband's torso. He buried his face into Sherlock's ribs. All he wanted was to do this, to have Sherlock protect him, not snuggle against him. He wanted to be held. After he managed to clear his thoughts he relaxed and finally fell asleep.
Sherlock frowned a bit but when John finally settled down, he wrapped his arms around his husband in a gentle hug. "No nightmares for you, my dear doctor." He kissed the top of John's head. Hopefully nothing would disrupt his husband's sleep. John had certainly been tense before managing to sleep, but with any luck it wouldn't affect his husband's slumber.
No. No. John tensed. This wasn't Afghanistan. That was Sherlock above him, telling him what to do...using him... He tensed again and jolted awake, his hands clutching and clawing desperately at Sherlock's skin. Shit. That was not good. Nightmares about Sherlock. He panted into his husband's side as he tried to calm himself down. His partner couldn't know.
It wasn't that he was used to his husband having bad dreams but he did think it was a real possibility. So, when it happened Sherlock wasn't surprised. "John. Ssshhh. Just a bad dream. You are safe. I am right here." He tightened the hug around his husband, trying to comfort the other man as best as he could.
John tugged his bottom lip between his teeth and nodded slightly. "I know. I know," he whispered. This couldn't be happening. Nightmares about his husband. All because he begged for it and didn't want to stop Sherlock. His left hand pressed against Sherlock's side, his wedding ring starting to leave a mark on his husband's skin. "Sorry."
Sherlock didn't seem to mind or notice that the ring was digging into his chest. "It is fine. No worries." Dare he ask about the nightmares? It had seemed worse than the other ones John had been having. They were supposed to be working on talking and communicating though. "Do you want to talk about it?
Shit. Did John want to talk about it? He swallowed hard and opened his eyes to look at Sherlock. "It was you," he finally managed to say. "H-Had a dream that you..." He felt his stomach twist and there was a sudden lump in his throat. He couldn't tell Sherlock. Maybe he would think it was another one where he died.
Sherlock waited patiently for John to continue. When his husband didn't, he wasn't sure if he should push the issue or just let John tell him whenever his husband was ready to do so. "It's okay. Whatever happened, it wasn't real. Try not to think about it." He was getting better at this whole comforting others things, or at least he thought he was. Maybe he should ask John, although now probably wasn't the best time.
Wasn't real. John could really go for a drink right now. "Yeah," he muttered, his voice a bit raspy. Dream Sherlock had seemed a lot worse than the one comforting him, that much was sure. "Okay," he added as he forced himself to relax. "Are you alright?" He asked softly as he forced his gaze up.
Sherlock raised his eyebrows slightly. "Yeah, I'm fine. It is you I am worried about." He gave John another kiss on the top of his husband's head. Whatever the dream had been about it was obvious that John didn't want to talk about it further. Best not to press the issue. He knew he didn't like it when his husband pushed him.
"Worried about me?" John managed a bit of a smirk. " I am fine. I promise." He patted Sherlock's chest and nodded slightly. "It happened. I will move on. We both should." He nodded slightly and pressed his nose against Sherlock's side. "Are we going to let that ruin our honeymoon?"
For a moment Sherlock was confused. Oh. They weren't talking about the nightmare anymore. "We haven't let anything ruin us before, why start now?" He smiled down at John. It was true. In the last two years they had been through so much shit together and yet here they were still. There didn't seem to be anything that they couldn't get past, as long as they worked together at it.
John smiled and looked up at Sherlock. "Good." He started tracing shapes lightly on Sherlock's chest. "I love you." He placed a kiss on his husband's side with a small sigh. "Didn't mean to do that to you," he stated against Sherlock's grin. The last thing he had ever wanted to do was hurt Sherlock in any way.
Sherlock put his chin on John's head, hugging his husband closer to him still. "I love you too." He was quiet for a moment. "You didn't do anything John. I should have never, ever, been that rough. Not like that. I just…" he trailed off, not sure how to explain it. It wasn't even a good reason and really, he didn't want to tell his husband. It would probably just make John feel worse.
John took a deep breath. "You just what?" He knew that Sherlock usually cut himself off before he didn't want to say anything that would hurt him. But now, with their new-found communication, he wanted to know. Needed to know. "Tell me."
Of course John would ask. It was fine for his husband to push but not him. Sherlock sighed at his suddenly angry and irrational thoughts. "It is difficult to explain," he muttered. Now he was just being stubborn and child like. Just like he had been when they first met. So much for growing up and acting like an adult.
"It's not difficult to explain, you just don't want to tell me," John stated hesitantly. "I am not am idiot, you know," he added as he shifted against his husband. Now this was ridiculous. John bit his bottom lip and shook his head. "Tell me, Sherlock. Stop acting like a child."
That wasn't really true. It was difficult to explain. John accused of him being a liar and at one time that wouldn't have bothered him but now it hurt. He pulled away from his husband, staring at the floor angrily. He sighed. "It was your day. I was just trying to do everything you asked. You wanted slow and gentle but at the same time biting and scratching and talking. It was a lot. I was having trouble focusing but I didn't complain. Couldn't…not on your day." Another sigh and he shrugged. "I wasn't into it, but you were. And God John when you asked me for hard and rough. I just…I lost control. I needed to feel something. THERE! Fucking happy?" He turned his back to his husband, because there was no way he could look at John after admitting that.
"Yeah, fucking happy," John stated as he stood up. "You could have said something about not liking it before you fucked me into the ground." He stepped over his husband and moved toward their bedroom, slamming the door shut and leaning against it. "Bastard!" He slammed his hand against the door.
No. No fighting on their honeymoon. "John wait…" Sherlock trailed off as the door slammed shut. He sighed. All his fault. All of this. He curled himself tightly into the sheets on the floor. The feeling of being sick washed over him all over again. He managed to keep his breathing under control but it was still heavy gasps of air.
Fucking wonderful. John would go into the bedroom where they broke the bed. He ripped the door open and moved back into the living room. "We shouldn't be fighting," he ground out, taking calming breaths. "So I asked too much of you. We just...found out that maybe we need to work on a small bit of our sex life." He sat on the floor a few feet away from his husband, not looking at him.
Apparently Sherlock hadn't heard what John had said because he began rambling quickly and desperately. "I didn't mean it. Didn't mean to…please…you have to believe me…I'm sorry…" He was rocking himself now, in a frantic attempt to comfort and calm himself. He thought they had moved past this. John hadn't been mad last night, but his husband was furious now. Not that he really blamed his partner. John had every right to be angry.
John hesitated before moving forward and wrapping his arms around his husband. "Shhh..." He tightened his arms around Sherlock and pressed his nose against his temple. "I believe you. I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry. I believe you," he repeated. God, he had ruined their honeymoon. This was not what he wanted.
Sherlock relaxed and leaned into John's touch almost instantly. Breathe. For God's sake calm down. This was why he hated emotions. It made him an irrational mess. "I know it is still your day, but can we just stay here like this for awhile?" He needed it right now. Reassurance. That his husband still loved him. That this was all one stupid misunderstanding.
John nodded. Of course they could. Right now they just needed each other and he couldn't imagine just leaving Sherlock like this. "It isn't my day anymore," he finally whispered. "Don't want it. I am clearly not meant to have control." He managed a small laugh and ran a hand gently up and down Sherlock's back. "We are fine. We're going to be fine." He had to make himself believe that, had to make Sherlock believe that, or things were going to get worse.
Sherlock snuggled into John as closely as possible, even entangling their limbs. The closeness gave him comfort he could only find in his husband's arms. "Like when you have control," he admitted quietly. "We just have to work on some things still, I guess." He wasn't physically tired but he was emotionally exhausted. His eyes closed and his body relaxed. "Nap," he whispered as he finally passed out.
John supported his husband the best he could, closing his eyes for a moment. Today couldn't have gone any worse. It had started out innocent enough, just a day to do what he wanted and here they were. He kept running his hand up and down his husband's back, whispering things in his ear to keep him asleep so he could hopefully recover and wake up feeling a bit better.
Sherlock slept for less than an hour. "Sorry," he murmured when he woke up. He hadn't meant to fall asleep, even if it was for a short while. He had certainly ruined John's day. "Sorry," he repeated. He wasn't sure what to say now. What was going to happen now? Were they going to be okay? Or were things going to be tense for awhile?
"You are fine," John whispered as he lifted a hand to rest on the back of his husband's head. "It is fine. Don't worry about it." He smiled a bit. Sherlock had needed to sleep so it wasn't anything he was worried about. "Are you hungry? I could cook dinner for you." He turned his head and placed a soft kiss against his partner's ear. "I could make you something if you are."
Sherlock wasn't terribly hungery but he could eat a little supposed. It was the least he could do for John. "Yeah, that would be good. Whatever is fine with me. Surprise me." He rolled over to be face to face with his husband. He leaned in and gave John a gentle kiss on the lips. "I love you." He kept their faces close, their noses touching.
"I love you, too," John replied with a small smile, leaning in for a second kiss. "I can surprise you," he added with a soft smile. After a long moment of studying his husband's face, he leaned forward and gently met his husband's lips again, the kiss slow as he poured every emotion he could into it. He loved Sherlock and the other man needed to know that, needed to know how much he was needed.
Sherlock smiled and returned John's kisses. He wrapped his arms around his husband, to help draw the other man closer to him. This was nice. "Love you," he repeated and moved in for another kiss. Dinner could wait, he was kissing John. That was much better and by far more important. The kiss was slow but passionate.
John exhaled slightly into his husband's mouth, his tongue moving to run across the roof of Sherlock's mouth. Kissing Sherlock was something he could literally do all day. It didn't matter if his mouth got tired, if he needed to sleep or eat, he just wanted to constantly kiss his husband. "I love you. So much," he said against his partner's lips. "L-Love you."
Sherlock rolled to straddle John, it wasn't meant as a sexual move he just wanted to be as close to his husband as possible. He continued to kiss John, exhaling loudly through his nose because he didn't want to break it. "God, I love you," he murmured behind the kiss yet again. He needed to keep telling John that. He needed his husband to know it.
John moved with Sherlock easily, opening his mouth to his husband's without a second thought. They needed this. After everything that had happened to them. He lifted a hand up and rested a hand on Sherlock's lower back, licking at Sherlock's bottom lip with a shaky exhale. "I love you." He sucked at Sherlock's tongue and moved his other hand to the back of his husband's neck.
Sherlock smiled, staring down into John's eyes lovingly. He moved his lips to his husband's neck, placing gentle kisses all along it. "Love you so much John." He pressed their bodies closely together and moved his forehead to his husband's. He met John's lips once more, professing his love yet again to the man below him.
While the fight they had was horrible, John was fairly sure that everything after was worth it. Almost worth it. He arched his back slightly and pressed his tongue into his partner's mouth. "I love you," he stated the best he could, running his tongue along Sherlock's teeth. Passionate. Slow. He smiled against his husband's lips and pulled away to take a breath, meeting Sherlock's gaze. "My husband."
Sherlock's smile returned. He tangled their tongues together for a bit, enjoying this moment he was sharing with John. "Love you too my dear doctor." He pressed their foreheads together again. "You said something about dinner. I think I may have worked up quite the appetite." He smirked at John, but didn't move to get off. Instead he kissed his husband on the lips yet again.
Dinner? Sherlock was thinking about dinner? John laughed and pecked his husband's lips. "Git, I am trying to snog you," he muttered with a grin. "I would rather kiss you than eat." He grinned and lifted his head to kiss Sherlock. "Want to keep snogging you. We don't do this much."
The smirk on his face got even bigger. Things finally seemed to be settling back into normalcy then. "I think I could be talked into doing that." Sherlock continued to kiss John, a hand finally moving up to run through his husband's hair lightly. The other hand began to trail up and down John's side lightly.
John smiled the best he could into the kiss, moving his lips eagerly against Sherlock's. His husband's kissing never failed to amaze him. The man was an expert. He shivered at the touch on his side and turned his fingernails to scratch at Sherlock's scalp. "Love you."
Sherlock continued the kissing and light touches. "I love you too." He tilted his head slightly into John's fingers a bit. He pressed his chest into his husband's and couldn't help but squirm a bit into John. With everything that was going on, he was beginning to get aroused. Shit. Would that be okay? He hadn't meant for it to happen, but his husband had a tendency to have that effect on him.
Oh. John felt his stomach twist. That was Sherlock's erection. He took a deep breath and pulled away from the kiss slowly, hesitantly meeting his husband's gaze. "Hi," he whispered softly. Were they going to do this? He was still a bit scared from last time. He moved his hand out of Sherlock's hair to rest lightly on his husband's cheek.
Sherlock could feel and see John's hesitation. "I'm sorry…I didn't…" He sighed. Well, he had certainly ruined the mood, hadn't he? He rolled off his husband, but he didn't want to lose the close contact. He twisted his torso away from John but kept his head on his husband's chest. Maybe when John was making dinner he could use the bathroom.