Author's Note:
Just some more Johnlock fluff. YAY!
Shower. John nodded slightly and squeezed his husband's hand. "Quick one. Need to wash up and change into something new." He moved slowly into the bathroom, pulling his clothes off in slow, languid movements. "Pajamas," he stated with a lazy nod. God, he felt like he could curl into their nest of blankets and sleep for days.
Sherlock followed after John, disrobing on the way to the bathroom. By the time he got there, he was already naked and turned the water on. He stepped inside once the water warmed up, making room for his husband to get inside. Not that it was problem, since the shower was huge to begin with.
John followed Sherlock into the shower and pressed against him instantly. He couldn't get enough of being near his husband. "I wish I wasn't so ordinary," he muttered into Sherlock's chest. "I wish I was like you," he added as he turned them so the water could get to his husband as well.
Sherlock frowned a bit. Where had this come from? "You aren't ordinary to me and if you were like me, we wouldn't get along at all. Like…my dad and I. As much as I hate to admit it, I am a lot like him and he and I were like oil and water. Besides, I like you just the way you are my dear doctor." He leaned forward and kissed his husband on the lips gently.
"You are always so impressive," John whispered against Sherlock's lips. "I'm just...me. I hear what Mycroft says. He calls me ordinary and normal and...it hurts." He opened his eyes to meet Sherlock's gaze. He had no idea where this was all coming from but he knew he was tired and he generally talked like this when he lost his filter. "I know I am normal. Especially compared to you."
"Bah. Mycroft is dating Lestrade. You are far more clever than the Detective Inspector. If anyone is dating someone ordinary it is my brother." Sherlock kissed the top of John's head. "There is nothing wrong with you. You are a doctor for God's sake. Who is ex-military. You are great under pressure." He gave his husband a smile. "There is nothing wrong with you," he repeated.
Hearing all of that from Sherlock, husband or not, made John grin from ear to ear. "I love you," he whispered as he listed his head and gently kissed Sherlock. "And you are amazing." Maybe this honeymoon was exactly what they needed. A month of being nothing but flat mates, even after the wedding, was now being overshadowed and nearly forgotten in favor of how they were now defining their marriage. "I am glad I married you."
"I love you too." Sherlock grinned back at John. "And of course I am amazing and perfect." He kissed his husband on the lips. "I am glad I married you too." He wrapped his arms around John in a hug. He had almost forgotten they were in the shower, until he had shifted closer to his husband and the water sprayed on him some more.
John returned the hug eagerly, pulling Sherlock close and laughing. "Perfect," he whispered against his husband's chest. So perfect. The man in his arms completed him. How had he gone so long in his life without Sherlock? He pulled them both under the spray of the water, shoving Sherlock's head into the middle of the water.
"Perfect and amazing. We can't have one without the other, now can we?" Sherlock smirked down at John, his eyes blinking faster than usual due to the spraying water directly over him now. He reached around his husband to grab the shampoo and first applied it to John's head, scratching lightly into his partner's scalp. "You know, one of these days we are going to shag in this shower."
John relaxed against Sherlock with a smile. "Wish we could do it now," he muttered with a sly grin. He opened his mouth against his husband's chest, his tongue running along the skin slowly. If Sherlock was going to scrub his scalp with such skilled fingers then he could at least return the favor.
"Me too." Sherlock almost lost his concentration when he felt John's tongue on his chest. He moaned softly, leaning into licking. He managed to finish shampooing his husband's hair. He moved them both so John could get rinsed, and his husband could continue the wondrous treatment on his upper body. "God, I wish we could shag right now."
Wonderful. John smirked against his husband's chest proudly and let his teeth run against his husband's skin. He knew that it wasn't going to happen but that didn't mean that he couldn't spoil his husband. "Tomorrow morning," he muttered as he sucked at Sherlock's skin, starting to leave a mark. "Please. Tomorrow."
Sherlock didn't want to leave the shower, but they needed to if they were going to answer the door and get dinner. "As much as I want to stay here and enjoy the not so quick shower, we need to get ready for our food to arrive." He didn't move though, instead he began nibbling on John's ear. They could stay just a few more moments, couldn't they?
John moaned happily against Sherlock's chest, his tongue faltering as he tried to focus. Spoil Sherlock. Focus. "Food won't be here for a while," he stumbled slightly on his words. They were going to be so sexually frustrated at the end of this. "Shag me," he begged.
Sherlock moved to press John into the wall of the shower and making their bodies as close together as possible. "Want to," he moaned into his husband's ear and then resumed nibbling and licking on it. God, did he want to but they had just shagged in the alley and had been shagging practically nonstop for almost a week now. So, it was unlikely he would be unable to do anything for awhile. Probably not until tomorrow.
John pressed his back against the wall, letting himself be pinned against it with a soft moan. "God, please," he pleaded. He sounded so desperate but he couldn't help it. This situation was heated and all he could think about was Sherlock and his mouth and how he wanted him. "Fuck. Fuck." His hips pressed forward several times despite the fact that he wasn't getting an erection. His body was moving on its own now.
Sherlock couldn't help the whimper when he felt John pressing into him. He bucked back roughly with a moan. Wasn't there a drug that could give you erections? Maybe they should look into that at some point, because right now despite both of their best efforts nothing was still the result. "Want you so bad." He was practically whining, begging. It was clear they were both ridiculously desperate. Maybe trying just a bit longer would work.
Even in school John hadn't been this desperate, and that was when girls were throwing themselves at him. "N-Not-" he cut himself off with a soft moan, his fingernails digging into Sherlock's shoulder blades as his feet slipped slightly on the wet floor. "Please," he finally muttered into his husband's neck as he lifted one leg to wrap around Sherlock's hips.
Sherlock continued to try but t no avail. Shit. This wasn't working for either of them at all. He heard the faint noise of a doorbell over the rushing water and their rapid breathing. "Dinner is here," he muttered with a pout. Damn interruption. Okay, grant it there was nothing happening but God he had wanted it. He reached around and turned off the water.
John slumped forward right away against Sherlock, panting for breath as the doorbell rang again. "Oi, calm down!" He shouted with a smile against his husband's chest. "Want me to go get it? My Italian is a bit rusty but I should be able to manage," he joked as he pulled away slowly from Sherlock, grabbing two towels and handing one off to his partner. "I don't know what it is about you, Sherlock but you turn me into such a whore."
Sherlock smirked. "Yeah, but you like it." He dried off and slid on his robe. "I will get the food." He grabbed his wallet out of his pants pocket and then walked to the front door. He had a brief conversation in Italian, paid the man and then took the bags of food. "So, it turns out this small town doesn't have a furniture store. We will need to go to the city for that. We can either make it a two day trip and take the yacht, or have my brother send a car to pick us up but it would still pretty much take up the whole day."
John groaned and walked into the living room with his pajama pants on, hanging low on his hips. "Up to you." He shrugged and yawned as he flopped on to the couch. Christ, he was exhausted. He felt like he could sleep for days. "I do like our little nest here in the floor. Granted, I don't really know how long my back will like me sleeping there." He glanced over his shoulder at his husband, his eyes locked on the food.
Sherlock set up silver TV dinner trays in front of the couch, since that was where John had sat down. "We still have wine left over from pizza night, do you want that?" He set the Styrofoam containers down on the trays. "And what about taking the yacht. I could teach you how to sail and we could maybe make it into one of those romantic things you are always talking about?" He looked to John with eyebrows raised questioningly.
Yacht. Sailing. He tugged his bottom lip between his teeth. "Yeah, that sounds good." He nodded and laughed. "No sandbars this time, yeah?" He took a small bite of his food, sliding the fork from his mouth slowly. "And wine sounds wonderful, dear." He grinned and licked his lips, leaning against the back of the couch and spreading his legs.
"We will take the channel up, no sandbars. Safe travel as long as the weather is nice and we stay between the buoys." Sherlock got the wine and two glasses. "Here you are darling," he said as he poured John a glass with a smirk. He finally sat down next to his husband. "And we don't have to keep sleeping on the floor you know. Couch turns into a bed, remember?" He opened his box of food and took a bite of his meat and mushroom ravioli.
"You said it was uncomfortable," John replied around a mouthful of food, accepting his wine with a smirk. "Honey, I just want you to shag me against the mast," he stated calmly into his cup as he took a sip. He sat back and relaxed, a hand resting on his stomach as he set his cup down and took a third bite. "Do you ever wonder what made us fall in love? I mean, I moved in with you." He shrugged and swallowed his food. "And I thought you were attractive but I never thought we would end up here."
"It is more comfortable than the floor." Sherlock shrugged and then couldn't help but smirk. "Sweetheart only if I get to tie you to it first." He shrugged again, quiet for a thoughtful moment. "I guess I never thought about it. And you thought I was attractive because I am perfect and amazing." The smirk returned as he took another bite and washed it down with some wine.
"I thought you were attractive because you were brilliant," John corrected softly, his eyes suddenly serious. "But at that point all I did was toss off in the shower and think about you. You told me you were married to your work and I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life wanking while I thought about you and be happy about it." He took a small bite of food as a blush spread across his cheeks. "I always thought I was too ordinary for you. A soldier with a limp and nightmares. I wasn't the type of person you were supposed to fall for."
Sherlock raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Really? Why date all of those women? Or constantly insisting we weren't together? Why not just say something sooner to me?" Had he pushed John away that much when they first met? He supposed he had really. For a long time he had kept the other man at arm's length because he had been afraid to allow himself to connect with another person.
"Because I was trying to convince myself I didn't like a bloke," John said with a bit of a laugh. "You kind of just pushed your way into my fantasies after a while. All those women, though...They would at least shag me." He shifted on the couch and cleared his throat, glancing up at his husband nervously. They had never really talked about this but he figured at some point they would know everything about each other. "I was afraid to say something to you. I knew I was going to get denied but when I got shot...and you were hugging me and then in the same bed as me...I just knew."
Sherlock smirked a bit and nodded, before falling quiet a long moment. "I didn't want to care about you, because I didn't want to open myself back up to feeling emotions. I had gone so long without them, I guess I thought I didn't need them anymore. And I didn't, not for the kind of work I did. It allowed me to be more efficient, more thorough. When you got shot that day, I was scared John. Scared of losing you and I realized that despite my best efforts I still ended up caring about you and I figured why fight it anymore."
John smiled and kept his gaze locked on his food. Getting shot would bring them together. "I am glad you care for me," he finally whispered, moving to shyly meet his husband's lips before pulling away. Emotion. This conversation had more emotion than he was really used to. "I'm glad you have decided to take such a step forward with me and accept the challenge that his relationship really is. It is...wonderful." He cleared his throat and took a slow bite of his dinner.
"Yeah, me too." Sherlock gave John a small smile. They didn't talk like this often and it was almost getting to be too much for him. It wasn't that he minded, he just still wasn't used to it he supposed. Would his husband be upset if he tried to change the subject? He decided to shovel some more food in his mouth, because he wasn't sure what to say next.
"Can we sleep on the pull-out bed tonight?" John finally broke the silence as he finished his wine. "It is small, that means we will have to snuggle," he said with a sheepish smile. Lately Sherlock had taken to snuggling against him but perhaps he could curl into his husband's side tonight, be close to him and sleep without nightmares. Right now the last thing he wanted to do was have sex with Sherlock. He wanted to be wrapped in his husband's arms and have a soft conversation with him. Nothing but little whispers and kisses and laughter.
"Yeah sure. That would be fine." Sherlock was finished eating, but at least he had managed to eat about half of it. He closed the box and finished off his wine. "Are you ready for bed then? I think I may have worn you out today, even if I did all the work in the alley." He smirked proudly at John, as he sank into the couch to get a little more comfortable.
John laughed and closed the carry-out box. He only had a few bites left and snuggling with his husband sounded far better than finishing his meal. "You were the one that grabbed my dick." He shifted on the couch and curled against Sherlock's side, resting his head on his husband's shoulder. "You never do that. I was shocked." He wasn't complaining, though. It had felt amazing. His eyes slipped closed and he smiled the best he could. "You tired?" He asked with a yawn.
"Have you so quickly forgotten the cargo hold of the plane? I damn near broke my knuckles against the metal wall jerking you off while I shagged you from behind." Sherlock shrugged with a smirk. "Not at the moment, but we can get the bed ready if you tired right now my dear doctor."
Right. John blushed at just the thought. "Yeah. Sorry about that." He looked up at Sherlock and yawned again. "I'm fine right here curled against you," he whispered as he placed a kiss against his husband's cheek. He shifted slightly and grabbed behind him, opening a text message on his mobile . "Er, Mycroft wants to speak with you." He handed his mobile over and opened a new message.
Problem with Lestrade. Busy? –MH
Sherlock was about to snuggle in closer to John when his husband handed him the phone. His brows furrowed in thought and confusion. "Give me a moment." He stood up off the couch, calling Mycroft as he walked into the bedroom. "What kind of trouble?" He closed the lid on the toilet and sat down.
"We..." Mycroft paused for a long moment, taking a deep breath. "We had a domestic. But I may have hit him." Another pause and he rolled his eyes. God, he had no idea what to say. "I hit him and he is gone." A wail echoed through the background and he groaned. "Sherlock, he was the only one that could calm Amy down and I have run him off two months before our wedding."
"Here I thought I had dad's temper," Sherlock commented dryly. He sighed at himself. Making remarks like that wouldn't help. "How long ago did this happen? If it hasn't been that long maybe he just needs some space. What about Mummy or Mrs. Hudson to take care of little Sandi? Maybe Harry? Then you can go look for him." He wasn't entirely sure why his older brother had chosen him to help. There wasn't a lot he could so far away.
"Two hours," Mycroft mumbled. "And Harry is here. Not drunk, thankfully. I just...I don't know what to do and I know that you and John have rows all the time. How do you fix them?" He let his eyes slipped close, forcing himself to relax. Fine. Everything would be fine. "I didn't mean to call in the middle of your honeymoon. I just...didn't know who to call."
"You do realize that you called me for relationship advice don't you?" Sherlock smirked even though Mycroft couldn't see it. "I guess it is different for everyone, I don't really know. Just find Lestrade and talk to him and most certainly apologize. Sometimes talking results in yelling and words that you don't mean to say. But no matter how bad it gets or how stubborn either of you are...one of you will realize how ridiculous the argument was to begin with and one of you will fight for the relationship. If neither is willing to fight for it, then maybe you should rethink getting married. Mycroft, you let him go once. If you really care, love him then fight for it. Don't just let him walk away again."
Mycroft smiled slightly and looked up as Harry entered the room with Amy in her arms. "And that is why I called you for relationship advice," he stated with a small laugh. "Because you have been through this and what you just said.. that was good. I am going to go." The phone call ended and Mycroft headed out right away.
"Sherlock?" John stood slowly from the couch. He hoped everything was all right. His first thought was something was wrong with Amy and every horrid situation he could think of had jumped to his mind the moment his husband disappeared.
Sherlock smirked, rather pleased with himself at the moment. He stood up at the same moment John walked in. "Hey." He could see the worried look on his husband's face. "Everything is fine. Mycroft called for relationship advice, from me off all people. Guess I did okay though."
"You? For relationship advice?" John smiled widely and embraced Sherlock, meeting his lips softly. "Mmmm, you are pretty good at this one," he stated with a smirk. "I am sure they will work it out. I'm looking forward to little Siger, to be honest. We'll probably get to babysit him sometimes, yeah?" He pushed Sherlock back against the wall with a suggestive raise of his eyebrows.
Sherlock smirked and shrugged. "That is what I said, but I think what I said might have actually helped." He followed John's movements, until his back pressed against the wall. Would he even be able to do anything this time around? It had been a few hours, so maybe. He wrapped his arms around John, pressing their lips together for a slightly aggressive kiss.
John grinned into the kiss, opening his mouth and pressing eagerly into his husband. He knew why he couldn't stop touching his husband like this. After the honeymoon they would go back to a flat where they had an infant who would need their constant care. Shagging would happen probably only in their bed late at night when they returned. Right now he could take his husband in this bathroom if he could manage it.
Sherlock was still a bit sexually frustrated from before, so he continued his aggressive kiss. He pressed his lower torso into John's, bucking up into the other man roughly with a bit of an excited growl. If he couldn't get an erection this time, he might just scream in a ft of childish rage. "God I want to fuck you so bad." Not exactly romantic he figured, but if he didn't get shag his husband soon he just might snap from the anger of it all.
Oh God. John nearly shouted at Sherlock's words alone. The man never said that and hearing that made him thrust against his husband, pressing him roughly against the wall. "Fuck me," he begged breathlessly. "Oh God, please fuck me." When did they start talking like that? Sod it, he didn't care.
Much to his delight, Sherlock could feel himself getting hard. He wasn't sure if it was his sheer determination or because enough time had passed from the last shagging, either way it didn't matter. What did matter was he was getting an erection. He broke the kiss, panting for a moment. "I'm going to get lube, go get in the shower. Want to finish what we started." He untied his robe, letting it fall to the floor without a care. He almost tripped over his own feet as he rushed to the bedroom. He grabbed a random bottle of lubricant and made his way back to the bathroom.
John didn't need to be told twice. He yanked his pajama pants and boxers down, stumbling into the shower and turning the water on. "Fuck." He pulled his hand back with a hiss and adjusted the water the best he could before turning to grab his husband's wrist. "Please," he begged, pressing against Sherlock. He didn't have an erection but he didn't care. Sherlock did and, he couldn't explain it, but he wanted Sherlock inside of him. It didn't matter that he wasn't hard.
Sherlock smirked, pleased with John's eagerness. He was feeling pretty excited himself, as well as aggressive. He took a moment to adjust the shower head, so it was hitting the back wall. He then pressed John into it. "Turn around. Like the cargo hold. Think that will work best here." He wasn't sure how was able to maintain this level of calm, considering just how horny he really was right now. He opened the bottle of the lube and slicked down his cock, it smelled like blueberries.
"Right," John muttered, pressing his chest and stomach against the wall with a small gasp. It was hot and steamy. "Blueberries, really?" He glanced over his shoulder as he let his feet slide on the ground, spreading his legs as far as he could while keeping his balance. Still no erection. He closed his eyes for a moment. Sherlock. This was about Sherlock. His husband was all that mattered. "C'mon," he growled as he tensed his muscles against the spray of warm water.
Once Sherlock was prepped, he prepared John next by sliding in two fingers smeared with lubricant. "It wasn't like I looked when I grabbed," he muttered. He dropped the bottle on the floor, kicking it behind him so it wouldn't be in the way. He wrapped both arms around his husband, to help support them both. He leaned his head against the wall. Not the most comfortable thing to do, especially with his head all banged up but it would do for now. He entered John with a moan, starting a off with a fast pace but managing to make it steady.
"Ah!" John slammed his eyes shut and leaned back against his husband. Even without a hard on it felt amazing. Good God, this was amazing. "Geez, don't stop." He turned his head and opened his mouth, sucking at the side of his husband's jaw. Don't say harder. That could end badly. "Sherlock."
Hard thrusts in a slippery shower would not end well for either of them, so with self control Sherlock didn't know he had he had managed a fast pace but without the doing it roughly. And Christ, it felt amazing. He tilted his head a bit so John could have more of his neck to suck on. The smell of the lubricant, mixed with the hot and steaming water made it seem like they were shagging in a blueberry muffin. It was strangely alluring to him. This so far was his favorite lube they had used.
"Yes," John mumbled against Sherlock's neck, biting down on the skin he could find. It took him a few moments to finally catch his breath, a moan escaping his mouth each time his husband thrust against him. The smell, though, was making him a bit sick to his stomach but he would manage for Sherlock. "L-Love you." He swallowed hard and pushed back roughly against his husband.
With excited as Sherlock was and having shagged only a few hours before, he didn't last long at all. He came with a moan, panting out a growl from the biting on his neck. "Sorry…couldn't last long." He turned his head to meet John's lips in a kiss. "Love you too." He slid out of his husband but stayed pressed against the other man.
John smiled and took a deep breath, slumping against the wall with a small giggle. "You smell like a massive blueberry," he said as he shifted slightly and winced. Well, at least Sherlock had enjoyed it. "We will have to do that again when I actually have an erection."
"Yeah, I know. For some reason I really like. I am also hungry now too, so I might actually finish dinner." Sherlock smirked at his husband but it slowly turned into a frown. Oh. "John, I'm sorry. I didn't…I should have…" He trailed off, dropping his head bit. Christ, he was a selfish lover sometimes wasn't he? He had been so frustrated from last time and so excited this time, all he could think about was shagging his husband.
"Oh, Sherlock, calm down." John moved forward and gently met his husband's lips. "I wanted to do that for you. If I didn't want it to happen then I would have said no." He smiled softly and ran a hand down Sherlock's face, his thumb running across his cheekbone. "I love you. It is fine, I promise. Sometimes I just do things for you."
Sherlock nodded a bit John's word but it didn't do a lot to pacify him. He wasn't hungry anymore. He just wanted to go somewhere to sulk, instead he pressed against his husband for comfort and support. He rested his chin on John's head, arms still wrapped around his partner and he squeezed his husband slightly in a hug.
Well, that hadn't helped much. John placed a soft kiss on Sherlock's chest. "I wanted you to have something, Sherlock. I am fine. I would have said our safety word if I wanted you to stop. Promise." He ran his hand up and down his husband's back to soothe him the best he could. Had he ruined yet another day between them? That was the last thing he wanted.