Author's Note:
Oh this chapter... Thank you to everyone who has been reviewing!
Dinner? Oh, right. Dinner. Their plans for tonight. John shifted and tightened his legs around Sherlock's waist. "I don't know. Bread and cheese? If we are going to eat out here it shouldn't be complicated and it would go good with the wine," he whispered. "Besides, I know you are not hungry so if I make it more of a snack you might eat more."
Sherlock smiled, giving John a quick kiss on the nose. "I love you." He leaned forward so their foreheads would touch, resting for a bit in quiet contemplation. "Cheese, crackers and sausage maybe. I could a fruit salad like the night when we got married. We could feed each other. That seemed to work out rather well last time."
Feeding food to each other would definitely turn John on. He smiled and laughed. "I want this to happen naturally," he said softly, his chest pressing against Sherlock's for a moment as he took a deep breath. "I don't want it to feel like the night is supposed to end with me making love to you, if that makes any sense at all." Which he hoped it did because it was honest, truthful. He didn't want it to feel like they had to end their night like that. He wanted it to be perfect.
Oh right. Natural. The first time he intentionally attempted to be romantic and it blew up in his face. The food, stars, a slow shagging. He relented with a shrug, deciding he should just give up on that prospect ever happening. He was Sherlock Holmes after all, inept at all things social...still. "Sure, that would be good."
Oh. No. That was bad. "Sherlock, I still plan on making love to you. Talking to you... everything." He ran a hand across his husband's cheek. "I mean that I want it to feel like we hadn't actually planned it. Your idea is so romantic and perfect that just the thought makes me squirm in excitement." He pressed his hips forward into Sherlock's stomach, showing his husband his still very obvious interest. "I didn't mean to muck it up just now. Your plan is perfect and wonderful, just like you."
Sherlock didn't have the heart to tell John it didn't matter anymore. That his husband had ruined it already for him. God, there was no way he could say that ever. "Whatever you want, is fine." He managed to give John a small, reassuring smile. Was he being selfish for having wanted just one time where he planned and asked? He supposed there was a reason he had never done it before. Probably because he had known this would happen. He felt like an idiot for thinking he could actually be romantic, no matter what his husband had said.
Damn it. John closed his eyes for a moment. "Ignore me. We are doing it your way, all right?" He made sure Sherlock was looking at him before he continued. "Dinner and making love under the stars like you planned. And I will feed you and talk to you." There was no hint of argument in his voice, his face set in determination. "Tonight is all about you and your plans. I am not going to ruin it."
Either John was getting better at understanding him or Sherlock was losing his touch when it came to keeping his thoughts and feelings hidden. Probably a little bit of both. He wasn't really sure how he felt about that. He gave his husband a smile and then a quick peck on the lips. "I," Another kiss, "love," a third one, "you." A final kiss, but he kept that one going and his tongue moved to explore John's mouth immediately.
So John had done something right. Enough so to merit an incredibly adorable display from his husband. He returned the kiss without a second thought, sucking at Sherlock's tongue with a soft and encouraging moan. "Going to go so slow tonight," he said as he pulled away slowly from the kiss. "Let you know how much I love you." He started another slow kiss, his tongue running across the top of Sherlock's mouth.
Sherlock smiled behind the second kiss. That was all he had really wanted out of the whole thing. He knew John loved him but he just wanted a moment where he felt it…intensely. All because he was feeling insecure. "It isn't too much is it? I feel like, maybe I am being a little too selfish about this whole thing." God, now his husband was going to know for how anxious he was still feeling, because he was pretty sure he sounded unconfident with that question. But he was. That was why he needed tonight. Some form of reassurance.
It was odd to hear Sherlock sound so vulnerable. "It isn't too much at all," John whispered with a reassuring smile. "Unless you want me to give you the moon after we are done then I don't see a problem." He ran a hand through Sherlock's hair. "You aren't being selfish at all." He placed a quick kiss on the tip of his husband's nose. Tonight was about so much more now. Showing Sherlock's how loved he was, that he had nothing to be insecure about.
Sherlock nodded, feeling relieved. He would have slumped into John, but he was holding his husband up still. He settled for putting his head against his partner's shoulder. He hated that he felt like this. It was stupid. So what if his husband looked at porn. John had married him. They should talk about this. He lifted his head, but was quiet for a thoughtful while. "When I asked you not to look at porn anymore, that was being selfish. John, when we get back home…I won't be this guy I am on the honeymoon, not if I want to work effectively while on a case. So, I will probably be away for several days. You and little Sandi would be too much of distraction, and I mean that in the best way possible. But when I come after a case is solved, then I can be this guy. I just…I won't be able to all the time John. I won't be able to give you everything you need…" He trailed off because he felt like he was just rambling now. Hopefully his husband would understand and not get upset. God, would this start another fight and ruin tonight?
John listened to Sherlock, his eyes finally pulling away to look on the water. Right. In all honesty he had expected that. He always had. Sherlock outside of 221B was an entirely different man. Did that mean they wouldn't sleep in the same bed as much? They wouldn't shag or take showers together or just lay in bed? God, he didn't want that to happen. "I know," he muttered softly. "I only watched porn because...you were gone but I won't anymore. I can wait. Just... toss off or... not..." He let his eyes slip closed. This was not something he wanted to think about. "Wasn't I going to work with you?" He asked weakly.
That was pretty much the response Sherlock had expected. Except, John looked a little more defeated than he would have thought. Yep, he probably ruined their planned evening. "You are, we will be working together. I just thought that, at the end of the day you would want to go home and see your…our daughter. If you want to stay late at the office with me, then that is fine. If you wanted to do that, then we could hire a nanny. I am sure my Mum could recommend one."
Slip up. Your. John's head whipped up so fast he felt dizzy. "Amy is our daughter," he said feebly, his voice shaking. "And we can...I dunno, put a bed in my office or something. It isn't that difficult." His entire body was tense now because Sherlock was...well, Sherlock. He didn't want to think about cases and the danger of it all and of Sherlock leaving his side of the bed empty.
Apparently the fact that he corrected himself on his own didn't matter to John. "We can do that." He had thought his husband would want spend time with little Sandi not just him. It wasn't a complaint, just…surprise. Hopefully John wouldn't come to resent him for it later. "I will text Mycroft later, get everything set up. The bed, a nanny. I'm sorry. I assumed what you would want to do without discussing it with you first…" He wanted to fix this before things kept getting worse.
Why couldn't they stop fighting? John took a deep breath and let his head fall on to Sherlock's shoulder, his head turned so his face pressed into the side of his husband's neck. "Sorry. I just...I want us to be a perfect family. If you are at the office than I can be, too. So can Amy. It won't be a problem." He tightened his legs around his husband and sighed, forcing himself to relax. "I want Harry to be her nanny. Is that a problem?"
"John, there is no such thing as perfect families. I got the office, to keep work and life separate. She will stay at the flat, I'm sorry. I am not going to have her be around all those strangers and other possible dangers. Maybe, when she is older..." Harry? Harry? Sherlock wasn't really comfortable with that idea but saying so would probably upset his husband. Was she even qualified? For God's sake not just anyone could do a job like that. Weren't there qualifications and training for things like that? Not to mention he wasn't sure if she would be able to stay sober the entire time. One time was all it would take for something to go wrong. One little moment for John's sister to fall off the wagon. "Uh, if she stays sober…" He ventured quietly.
That was it. John couldn't stay wrapped around his husband and fight with him at the same time. "Sod off, Sherlock." He pushed away from him and swam to the shore, moving toward the house clumsily in the sand. Harry had been sober and had done a wonderful job. And now he wouldn't even be able to work with Sherlock since they had Amy. Maybe he wasn't as cut out for this marriage thing as he thought. They seemed to be fighting more than he thought was normal. He had tried to fix the little problem that had presented itself but Sherlock had shut him down. The moment he got into the house he locked himself in the bathroom, turning the shower on as hot as he could and stepping in.
That wasn't what Sherlock had wanted to happen. He watched John storm into the beach house. Fucking great. He sighed, apparently there was no compromising here. It was either his husband's way or nothing and now John was pissed off. The point of the office was to keep dangers and hazards away from little Sandi and so he could stay focused. And Harry…Christ, he didn't really know her but maybe he should trust his husband's judge. He stayed out at sea, laying on his back and staring up at the sky. His eyes squinted against the sun, without sun screen he was definitely going to sun burn. That was least of his worries right now.
When it felt like his skin couldn't take the heat anymore John stumbled out of the shower, turning it off and sliding to the floor. He understood Sherlock not wanting Amy at the office. Fine. But insulting Harry. His hands clenched at the thought. His sister had sobered up for their daughter so she could be around Amy. He slammed his head back against the door with a shout. At this point he just wanted the honeymoon to be over with so they wouldn't be around each other all the time and might stop fighting so much.
Sherlock hadn't been paying attention where he was floating. How long had he been out here? He sat up, so he could tread water and realized that he floated so far out he couldn't find the shoreline anywhere. Great. Lost at sea. It was his own fault though; he should have been paying attention. John probably wouldn't even notice he was missing until later. Okay. Don't panic. He couldn't just pick a direction and start swimming, if he went the wrong way his body would eventually get tired and give out and he would drown. No buoys around either or ships. Fuck. Maybe just for once, he would get lucky. Nope, that was certainly thunder he heard. A storm was coming this way. He took a deep breath, trying to remain calm as he went through different scenarios in his head and tried to pick one that would result with the lowest possibility of dying.
Right. Apparently Sherlock wasn't going to come back inside so John was going to have to suck it up and do it himself. Not a problem. He stood slowly and decided to not put clothes on, walking outside and...where was his husband? There weren't any footprints coming back toward the house aside from his own and he wasn't in the water. "Sherlock?" He moved closer to the shore and looked around. "Sherlock?" He repeated before he felt his stomach drop. Shit. This wasn't good at all. "Sherlock!" There wasn't any sort of reply. Okay. So he probably was out there somewhere with swimming skills akin to that of a young child. John didn't hesitate, hitting the water and starting to swim out, shouting his husband's name every time he could manage to get a breath.
Sherlock had decided his best bet was to float on his back and minimize the use of his body and to hope for the best. It was a frustratingly and maddeningly inactive plan but anything else would probably result in him drowning quicker. He sighed, he could already read the headlines. 'Consulting Detective: Dies At Sea On Honeymoon Due to Drowning' Would John even care? Mourn his death? His thoughts were interrupted when he was certain he heard his husband calling his name. He sat back up, to tread water again. That was John, but how had his partner found him? Hopefully his husband had been paying attention and knew how to get back to land. "John! I'm over here!"
Alive. That was shouting. John started to swim faster, reaching Sherlock and panting for breath. "Idiot," he muttered as a smile finally spread across his lips. "Scared me to death." But he wasn't at the sea floor, he was alive and...a bit sunburned. "No more fighting," he stated seriously, studying his husband. "We can't keep doing this. It always ends in something horrible and I don't want it anymore." He looked around as he tread water, slowly catching his breath. "You all right?"
Sherlock managed a faint smirk and managed to shrug with the water all around him. "It was my fault, I'm sorry." He was quiet for a bit after that and he shrugged again. "I am okay. Bit tired, probably dehydrated from being in the sun, and sunburned. Please tell me, you remember how to get back to shore." Hopefully it wasn't that far away, if it was he didn't know if he would have the stamina to make it all the way back. He kept that to himself, no need to worry John.
"Yeah, of course." John nodded slightly, looking up at the sun. "I'm a bit worried about you." he cleared his throat and smiled a bit. "We will talk back at the house. We have got about a mile swim ahead of us. Get on my back." He turned, looking at his husband over his shoulder with a soft smile. "I will take you back and we'll get you taken care of. I know there is some aloe lotion somewhere in the bathroom." Good. Fixed. Not too bad. He tried not to show how relieved he was.
"No need to worry, I am fine." Sherlock gave a slight smirk. A mile? "I can make it, no need to carry me." Except, he wasn't entirely sure he would be able to do it. He didn't want to be extra weight on John in case something horrific happened, like the oncoming storm. The waters would be getting rough soon. The sky was already starting to darken and it was still. They needed to get to shore as quickly as possible.
This was really no time to argue but John wasn't going to back down. Not now. Things were getting serious. "Sherlock, I have been trained for things like this. Please, get on my back. This is serious and if we don't start now we are going to get caught in this storm. No offense, but you'll slow me down more if you aren't on my back." He reached out and grabbed his husband's hand, gently pulling him forward. "On my back."
Sherlock grumbled, not liking this but they didn't have time to be arguing. Sometimes John could be just as stubborn as he was. He got on his husband's back, wrapping his arms around his partner's mid section. He made sure not to hold too tight, John would need to be able to breathe properly. He blinked as he felt the first rain drop hit his face. Great.
Good. Listening. Two years ago Sherlock would have died in the sea before listening to anything John had to say. "Good. Hold on," he said as several more rain drops started to fall around them, getting bigger with each passing moment. He started to swim as fast as he could manage, the waves picking him up and ducking him under. He kept Sherlock above the growing waves the best he could, taking the brunt of it with gasping breaths and sputtering coughs. They would get caught in a storm.
Sherlock pressed one cheek into John's back, his eyes closing so the spray wouldn't be too bad. He hadn't been ready the first time his head submerged under the water after a particularly large wave and when he resurfaced he coughed on the water. Really, he should have expected it to happen especially with how rough it was getting now. John couldn't be fairing much better than he was, but the wind was howling now. He wasn't sure he would be heard even if he tried yelling.
One large wave knocked John under for a few seconds and he resurfaced with a gasp. Shit, he wasn't even sure they were going the right way now. A loud crack of thunder made him look up for a moment before he was knocked under the water again, kicking frantically to resurface. "Sherlock!" He turned in his husband's hand, holding on to him as tightly as he could. "Get higher on my back!" He shouted as loud as he could. "You can't keep going under the water like that!"
Sherlock lifted his head when he thought he heard John shouting. He squinted his eyes against the waves in an attempt to read his husband's lips because all he could hear right now was the crashing waves and the shrieking wind. He was able to get the basic jest of the message and he managed to clamber a little further up. Whew. That had been tiring. Good thing he hadn't tried swimming. He was more exhausted than he realized. He rested his head against John's neck, eyes closing. No. He needed to stay conscious, otherwise his grip might slip. He bit down on his lip hard, jolting him back to wakefulness from the pain.
John started swimming again, struggling a bit more than he had before hand. The waves would knock him back almost every time he tried to move forward, dragging him under the water. Jesus, this was rough. The storm probably took them in a completely different direction from the shore he had come from. He resurfaced with a gasp, coughing and reaching an arm behind him to secure Sherlock the best he could. He wasn't sure how much more he could take.
Even in Sherlock's worn state, he could tell that John was struggling. Maybe if he let go, then his husband might have chance to make it. There was no sense of both of them drowning. He was just a burden on John's back at this point. Hopefully his husband would understand. He let go and a wave washed over him violently. He kicked to resurface, when he felt his feet hit sea bottom. Instead of struggling against the water, he found footing and was able stand. Well, sort of. The vicious water was making it problematic. He reached around blindly, hoping he hadn't lost John. He came in contact with a limb, his fingers clamping down around it as tightly as he could and then began trudging forward the best he could, coughing as the torrent of rain and waves fell down around him.
No. No. John struggled against the waves, inhaling water with each breath and coughed, searching wildly for his husband. He couldn't lose Sherlock. Not now. Their last moments couldn't be a fight. God, where was...A hand. That was a hand around his wrist and he was being pulled forward. God, he was so tired and so filled with salt water. Each large wave pushed him under again until he felt sand at his back and finally passed out, his breathing shallow and body limp after the fight to swim back to shore.
It shouldn't take this long to get to shore, should it? Now Sherlock understood that saying 'when it rains it pours.' He staggered when he finally hit solid ground, knocking him to his knees. Somehow he had managed to hold onto John. He turned to see his husband unconscious. Of course. It was only natural, right? It was happening to them after all. He crawled over to John's limp body and with energy he didn't realize he had, he picked his husband up. He didn't know where they were. This wasn't their beach, but there was a lighthouse. He forced himself all the way there. They needed to get out of this rain. The door was unlocked. That was a nice change of luck. It was old and no longer in use. Still better than being outside. He set John down gently, realizing now that he was shivering violent from being cold. He found a tattered blanket and draped it over them both as he curled in tightly to his husband in hopes of keeping them both warm before losing consciousness.