Author's Note:
I like this chapter. A defining moment in their relationship and some sexy Johnlock time. Thank you so much to everyone who is leaving me reviews!
Had he done something wrong? John moved a hand to rub gently at his husband's back before an idea made him smile. He turned and grabbed a single piece of spaghetti from the bowl, putting one end in his mouth and lifting the other to Sherlock's. He raised his eyebrows and smiled slightly. Still eating but in quite the romantic way. He sucked a bit more of the spaghetti into his mouth and waited for his husband to mirror his actions.
What was John doing? Sherlock stared uncomprehendingly for a moment but eventually he figured it out. He wasn't sure why anyone would want to eat like this, but all right he would humor his husband. He copied John, swallowing his end of the piece of pasta. Was there a point to what they were doing?
John smiled the best he could and moved forward, continuing to eat his half before their lips met. Perfect. His lips moved against Sherlock's slowly, softly, as he smiled a bit. Had Sherlock never done that? Well, stupid question, in hindsight. He pulled away from the kiss with a sheepish smile, clearly a bit nervous about his husband's reaction. "Saw it in a movie once. Always wanted to try it."
Oh. Oh. Sherlock smirked a bit as he returned the kiss. "A movie, huh? People jump out of speeding cars in movies, do you want to try that too?" The smirk returned, as he teased John. He nestled his head back into his husband's chest. "So my dear doctor, was it everything you had hoped for? Or was it better, since yours truly was involved?"
"Better because you are an amazing kisser," John whispered as he placed a kiss on Sherlock's forehead. "You are still hungry, I can tell," he added with a small laugh. "It would take a bit to fill you up if we kept doing that and I need to get you better, Love," and then John grinned because, really, that was a wonderful nickname. He suddenly realized why Sherlock enjoyed it so much.
Sherlock smirked even more. "That is because I am amazing and perfect. Oh. Look at you, using a nickname. My nickname, I might add." The smirk continued to grow, his head tilting up so he could look at John. "I am a little hungry, don't want to eat too much otherwise I won't eat tomorrow for our special night."
John laughed and hugged Sherlock closer, playfully using a hand to push his husband's head away. "Hush up, you. It is a nice one and you can't keep them all to yourself." He laughed again and wrapped his legs around Sherlock's body. "Suits you better anyway," he added as he buried his face into his husband's hair with a small blush. God, he felt like a giddy teenager right now.
Sherlock grinned, because it didn't seem like they did this often enough. Yeah they talked but it seemed to him they didn't do a lot teasing and joking. They should change that. He helped to entangle their legs together. He sighed happily, his head snuggling into John's chest once more. This was nice. More than that. This moment was perfect.
"I can't call you some ridiculous name like honey," John whispered, clearly deep in thought. "Hmm, how about Sherly? How does that sound?" He giggled, high pitched and loud, as his cheeks turned red. "Oh, God, I am calling you Sherly. I'm going to do it in front of your Mum and Mycroft." He kept laughing. "What if Amy starts calling you Sherly?" The tips of their noses ended up pressed together as he panted for breath, a foolish grin on his face.
Sherly? What the hell kind of nickname was that? He would rather be called 'Young Master Holmes' at this rate. Sherlock huffed his disapproval, his bottom lip puckering in a pout. He really hoped that name wouldn't stick. Just hearing was enough to make him want to cringe. Should he tell John how much he hated it?
No? John's grin faltered a bit and tugged his bottom lip between his teeth. "Right. Not Sherly. Do you get it, though? 'Cause your name... Sherlock an-" He cleared his throat and nodded the best he could. "Yes. Of course. Not Sherly." He licked his lips and went back to focusing intently on his husband's face. "Dear?" His voice was more serious this time, a hand lifting up to rest on Sherlock's cheek.
Sherlock was not amused by any means every time the name was said. So much for the perfect moment, he thought bitterly. Now he just wanted to curl up and pout, but he was working on not being a child anymore. Being an adult was annoying sometimes. He nodded at the question, not having any problem with 'dear' as a nickname. He didn't trust himself to actually say anything right now, and he just buried his head deeper into John's chest.
The silence coming from his husband was suddenly making John's gut twist. Shit. He had clearly done something wrong he just didn't know what. "Sorry," he whispered softly, grimacing at the sound of it. Sorry for what? He cleared his throat and pressed his nose against the crown of Sherlock's head. "I didn't meant to upset you. At all." He shifted to run his hand up and down Sherlock's spine. "Please...talk."
The hand on his spine was rather relaxing and helped calmed Sherlock down. "I am just being a stupid child. Pouting over," he couldn't even bring himself to say the nickname. He wasn't entirely sure why he hated it so much. It was just a stupid name. Only something so trivial would annoy someone like him. "Just didn't like that nickname. It was stupid to be so upset. I'm sorry."
Oh. John had only been joking but he had slowly learned that Sherlock's feelings weren't quite normal. "Sorry. It is fine. Just...tell me next time, yeah?" He smiled against his husband's scalp and continued the soothing touch on Sherlock's back. "I just had a bit of energy. I always feel wonderful around you as it is, just couldn't help myself." He shifted and pulled Sherlock closer. "'S fine, dear, all fine."
Sherlock smiled. "Like that one though." He turned his head to kiss John's chest a few times before he nestled his head back into it. He draped an arm over his husband's stomach and the other reached up to begin running through John's hair. Better. Much better. And they had talked without getting into a fight. Very good indeed.
"Good," John replied softly as he lifted his free hand up to trace up and down Sherlock's forearm with his fingers. "Not my favorite but it will have to do. I feel like you need a nickname," he explained with a small yawn. He hadn't done anything the past few days and it felt like he had just hit a brick wall. He turned his head away to cough slightly before turning back to Sherlock. "There was a moment where I knew I was falling in love with you...and it scared me."
Sherlock tilted his head up to look at John. "Why was that?" Except, he supposed he had been scared too. Terrified really. He hadn't wanted to feel emotions and despite his best efforts to ignore them, they had come back. "I was too," he admitted. He pressed into his husband's body tightly, seeking the comfort that only the man in his arms was capable of giving him.
"Because you are Sherlock," John whispered. "I remember when it happened. Exactly," he paused, closing his eyes as a small smile tugged at his lips. "The night we got back from the incident at the pool," he started softly, his smile only growing. "And you just looked at me when we got back from the flat. Your hair was everywhere and you just...grinned. Handed me my gun and went off on your way and I knew that moment that I was in love with you." He blushed but didn't open his eyes. He couldn't look at his husband after that.
Okay, well that was weird. The pool was when Sherlock had known too. He supposed he had been fighting it before then, but when John had wrapped his arms around Moriarty with a bomb strapped to his chest it had forced him to acknowledge that he was feeling again. No one had ever done anything like that for him before. It had been a life changing experience. "Me too," he admitted again but this time the words were barely above a whisper. He didn't elaborate. Maybe he just wasn't ready to admit it out loud yet.
If this was some fairy tale then John would have said it was meant to be. But Sherlock was clearly not wanting to talk about it much more because it was an emotional conversation, and he was glad they just weren't fighting. "I love you, my husband," he whispered into Sherlock's ear. There, comforting. Keep him focused on staying happy and getting better. "The best husband."
"Love you too." Sherlock curled into John even more, squeezing their bodies together as tightly as possible. The hand in his husband's hair began to twirl the longer strands around one finger and the rest continued to scratch lightly at the scalp beneath. "I am glad I met you," his voice had dropped to a quiet tone again. Was this what John had meant by whispering to each other?
"I'm glad I decided to move into your mess of a flat a few years ago," John replied with a short, soft laugh. Perfect. Everything about this was absolutely perfect. "I can't imagine myself anywhere else than right here with you." He turned his head slightly and kissed his husband's ear. They had literally been through everything and here they were. It was clear something was watching over them, protecting them. "I am beyond glad you came into my life, Sherlock Holmes."
Things were good again. Better than good, really. Sherlock smiled into John's chest. "I am glad we can talk like this. I didn't think I would, but…it is nice." It was also a hell of a lot better than fighting, which to his dismay they did quite a bit of recently. "John, I know we keep saying we shouldn't fight anymore…and we shouldn't. I am going to work on trying to be more understanding and maybe not get upset so easily. I don't like fighting with you." Hopefully he hadn't spoiled everything by his admission.
Now they were communicating, moving forward, and John nodded. "I don't like fighting with you either. It hurts, Sherlock, so much, when we fight. I know, realistically, that we will fight again but...I am going to try harder too. I'm going to work on keeping my cool and just trying to talk to you," he said with a bit of a smile. God, when had they become such the perfect couple? "Starting now let's try not to fight. Let's hear each other out, not walk away...let's fix this."
Sherlock smiled, pleased. He nodded into John's chest. "Yes. Agreed." Finally. Progress. This was definitely good. "Then we will both try harder. That is all we can do really, I guess. And to learn from past mistakes." As far as he knew, they had never had a fight over the same thing twice so that was plus at least.
John was fairly sure that the feeling in his chest was pride. They had talked and moved forward. Was it selfish to say they were the best married couple he had ever seen? It didn't matter, they were. "We will fix this. We always will because I love you, Sherlock. I always will." He moved his head down and chest back to give his husband a gentle kiss.
Sherlock smiled again as he met John's lips. "Glad we talked." For once it had worked out well, and without something terrible happening. Because really, all their fights seemed to lead up to things that were emotionally damaging to both and sometimes it resulted in things even worse, like almost drowning. No. Don't think about that. Think about how nice things are right here and now.
John merely hummed in response as he slid his hand to run up and down Sherlock's side. "I love your body. You say it is just a vessel but you don't realize how wonderful you actually look." He smiled warmly and turned his fingers to scratch at his husband's skin. "You are beautifully slim and," he took a deep breath. "I love you."
With John talking to him, it was easier to focus on what was going on at the present than his own thoughts. Sherlock tried to press even closer and tighter to his husband, seeking comfort. "I love you too." The hand draped over John's stomach began to trace indefinable lines on the skin. "Will you keep talking to me?" Another silly request, but his husband was helping to banish thoughts that sought to consume him.
John's eyes fluttered shut for a moment at the feeling of Sherlock's hand on his stomach. "Your hair," he started softly with a bit of a laugh. "It is so you in an odd way. Unruly. And when you just wake up it goes in every direction but you don't know it." He smiled softly and opened his eyes, a hand moving to curl the long locks of his husband's hair around his fingers. "Sometimes when you sleep and I am awake I always make sure the hair is out of your eyes."
"I like my hair," Sherlock mumbled like a pouting child. He didn't care how crazy or weird it looked to everyone else. "That's good, more." He was getting sleepy again, which annoyed him because he had slept an awful lot the last few days. He was sick of sleeping. Stupid life necessities. If could, he would never sleep. His eyes closed but he remained awake, fighting it. He wanted to hear what else John had to say.
"So demanding," John joked softly before leaning forward and placing a gentle kiss on Sherlock's nose. "Your nose," he whispered as he lifted a finger to run down the bridge of it. "When you are telling somebody off it crinkles at the top." There was a small pause and after a moment John spoke again, his mouth against Sherlock's ear. "And when you come it does that, too." He pulled back slowly. "It fits your face beautifully." Should he keep going? He could tell his husband was getting tired, his body getting a bit more limp in his arms. "Should I move on to your ears?"
"…'sgood…" Sherlock murmured into John's chest. It was becoming more difficult to stay awake. "Want 'smore…" he continued to mumble into his husband's torso, as he tried not to lose the fight to remain awake. The hand tracing along John's stomach went still, his body relaxing completely as sleep finally found him.
Had John really just gotten Sherlock to fall asleep? He smiled warmly and kept a hand running softly against his husband's lower back. Sherlock had been trying to fight the sleep but the man needed some rest. And he didn't mind because he so rarely got to watch his husband sleep and would take anything he could manage. He kept his gaze locked on Sherlock face as he slept.
Sherlock was able to sleep peacefully, in the arms of his husband. He continued to snuggle and murmur into John while he slept. He woke up a few hours later. "Sorry," he mumbled sleepily. He hadn't wanted to fall asleep. Really, he never wanted to sleep period but he supposed he was still recovering from the last several days. He was feeling better at least.
Sherlock's voice made John smile slightly and he just shook his head. "Don't apologize," he replied in a low voice. "You needed to sleep so I let you. Not a problem." He placed a soft kiss into his husband's hair. It had been endearing to have Sherlock sleep snuggled against him, with all the talking and warmth pressed against him. "How are you feeling?" That was the only thing he cared about because watching Sherlock like this was horrible.
Sherlock nodded. "I am feeling better." And he was. He lifted his head and smiled up at John. "I like waking up and seeing your face." He smiled again, dropping his head back into his husband's chest. He was taking what John had said and trying to learn and train himself to do the same. Was he getting better at these kinds of things? Or did he sound like some kind of rambling fool?
John grinned like an idiot, moving to give his husband a quick kiss. It was adorable, really, to have Sherlock tell him that. The man was learning slowly and was making him feel like a teenager all over again. "It is a rather lovely face, isn't it?" He replied with a small chuckle. He figured he should give the cocky thing a try if his husband was going to talk to him like that. Only fair.
"Yes, a very adorable face." Sherlock smirked up to John. He wrapped his arms around his husband and squeezed his partner in a hug. "I love you." He leaned up and kissed John's lips. This was nice. Maybe they should do this more often. He should tell his husband. They were supposed to be talking anyway. "Want to do this again, sometime."
"Oi," John muttered as he returned his husband's kiss. In no way would he ever think he was adorable. Never. He looked down at Sherlock after taking a deep breath and smiled. "Maybe one day back in London you will have a break between cases and I'll manage to get Mrs. Hudson to watch Amy and we can," he whispered hopefully. He knew that once they were back in London things were going to be so different so if they made plans now maybe, just maybe, it would happen. "I love you, too."
"That would be good. I would like that." Sherlock snuggled back into John's chest. He began showering his husband's skin with kisses. Even with everything, this honeymoon was turning out to be rather good. "I know this hasn't been perfect, but I am glad we came here. It has been good for us, I think." After speaking he resumed giving John's chest gentle kisses.
John let his eyes close at the attention, smiling softly as his husband spoke. "Very good for us," he whispered in reply. Considering how they were before the honeymoon and how much they had changed since the start, he couldn't agree more. "That's good. More," he stated with a small smirk, clearly a bit proud of himself for using his husband's words in a new situation.
Sherlock rolled so he could straddle John, and continued to kiss his husband on the chest. He pressed into the man below him a bit. Nothing too much. They still had tomorrow to look forward to and he didn't want to ruin it. Self control. He had that, didn't he? He was learning it, he thought. He began licking one of his husband's scar.
Oh. Good. Very good. John moved a hand to run through Sherlock's hair with a soft gasp. When had his scars become so sensitive? Or was it just his husband's mouth? His hips lifted slightly in response to Sherlock's movements, licking his lips as he let a moan slip past his lips. Calm. God, he couldn't push Sherlock.
It was difficult to show restraint with John bucking up into him. Sherlock whimpered into his husband's skin. If he shagged the man below him, would it ruin tomorrow? Shit. He wanted John badly right now. The erection forming was proof of that. "Oh God, want you," he admitted, his body pressing into his husband eagerly. Screw the self control. They hadn't shagged in awhile. Didn't they deserve it?
John looked up at Sherlock. There was no reason to say no. They had everything they would need right here. "Please," he said with a nod, taking a deep breath. His husband already had an erection, there was no turning him down now. "Like this? Want to move at all?" He rushed out, stumbling slightly over his words and arching up into Sherlock.
Sherlock whimpered when his husband moved up into but then he hesitated momentarily. "It…it won't ruin tomorrow night?" He was a bit conflicted. He did want to shag John right now but God the plans for tomorrow. They were supposed to be special right? But he continued the kissing and licking, and resumed squirming into the man below him.
Tomorrow night. Shit. If Sherlock was thinking it would they should stop, right? John took a deep breath. "Do you think it will?" He asked with a calm that even he was surprised with given the fact that Sherlock was writhing into and doing wonderful things with his mouth. Would this be needy and desperate? He could stay calm and still talk this time and try not to ruin it but he really didn't want to upset his husband. Or exhaust him too much. Damn it.
Sherlock stopped for a moment and took a deep breath. "I don't think it will, if we don't let it. Tomorrow will still be amazing. I want to shag you now because I love you. Love being inside you." He lifted his head to gaze up at John and then leaned down to kiss his husband's lips. His tongue went to explore the mouth of his partner's eagerly.
Well, that seemed pretty settled. John shifted underneath Sherlock to work his legs out from under his husband, spreading them out on either side of his partner. He moaned into the kiss, letting Sherlock control it. Should they shift? If Sherlock wanted to shag him then it would take a lot of energy. Would his husband be up to it? He took a deep breath to calm himself down, letting his thoughts just stop. Let Sherlock do what he wanted everything would be fine. "Want you inside of me," he whispered against Sherlock's lips.
Sherlock smirked, pleased. He squirmed into the man below him even more. He continued the kiss for a little while. He leaned over the side of the bed, thankful for his long limbs, to pick out a bottle of lubricant. He wiggled out of the boxers he was still wearing, as he began prepping his husband. This one didn't have a smell; apparently it was just a regular one. Admittedly he was a little disappointed, he had come to like the different flavors.
John bucked against Sherlock's fingers with a small shout. Oh, he had definitely missed that. "God, yes." He slammed his head back into the pillow beneath it, the muscles in his torso tense as he arched off the bed to give his husband better access. How in the world had they thought they could wait until tomorrow night? He lifted a left up to rest in Sherlock's shoulder and moaned. "Please. Now, please," he begged.
Sherlock smirked a bit. Good. John was just as eager as he was. He prepped himself and when he was ready he entered his husband with a loud moan. God, that felt wonderful. Why hadn't they shagged sooner? He began a moderate, steady pace. He leaned down to nibble on John's ear. "You feel wonderful," he whispered into the ear he was chewing lightly on.
John shouted, the leg on Sherlock's shoulder bending and putting pressure on the back of his husband's neck. "Fuck." He bit his bottom lip and slammed his eyes shut. "I-I know," he stuttered out, managing to smirk. "God, Sherlock." He clutched desperately at his husband's sides and moaned loudly.
The smirk on his lips got bigger and John's reaction encouraged Sherlock to pick up the pace. He began a faster rhythm, moaning into his husband's ear with each thrust. One hand gripped the head board for support and the other began scratching John's chest, leaving faint red streaks in their wake. He wasn't sure he was going to last long, given the quicker tempo and the lack of shagging in the last several days.
Scratching and Jesus Sherlock was moaning into his ear. John took a deep breath, coughing slightly as he moaned. "Harder," he whispered into his husband's ear. He knew Sherlock was tired, sick, but he couldn't help it. He needed it rough right now and the scratching on his chest was only reminding him of that. "You are wonderful. God, you're fantastic. Harder," he begged.
Harder? The last time hadn't turned out too well, but John had asked twice now. Sherlock couldn't disappoint his husband. He increased the speed and power behind each thrust. He was still moaning, rather loudly now, into John's ear. He scratched harder, the red streaks turning a deeper red as his fingernails dug into the skin harshly. He growled his excitement and tilted his head down to bite his husband's shoulder, his teeth leaving markings. Everything was too much, his body tensing and then going limp as he came. He yelled John's name, but it came out muffled since his mouth was buried in his partner's shoulder. He rolled slightly to one side, his breathing ragged. Christ, he was exhausted.
John turned his head to Sherlock with a lazy smile, panting and grinning. A small trickle of blood ran from the inside of his lip down the side of his mouth and he laughed. He had bitten his lip so hard he was bleeding. God, that had been wonderful. And he looked like Hell. Scratch marks, bite marks. His husband was determined to let everybody know who he was married to. "Good. That was so good." He looked around and nodded proudly. "Good bed, too," he managed between pants of breath. His own erection could wait because he had just pushed Sherlock, a very exhausted Sherlock, to shag him. "C'mere. You all right?" He whispered as he pulled his husband into his chest and placed a kiss on his forehead.
Sherlock looked up at John, a frown etching his lips as soon as he saw the blood. He was going to reach up to wipe it away gently but he was lacking energy and motor skill control at the moment. He really didn't want to sleep again, but he had worn himself out completely after such an intense and amazing shagging. He couldn't fight it, even if he wanted to. "…'mfine…" he mumbled into his husband's chest before his body relaxed and sleep found him immediately.
So stereotypical, John thought. Falling asleep after a shag. He smiled and ran a hand through his husband's hair. Maybe it had been better for his husband to exhaust himself so he would get some more sleep. He shifted on the bed a bit, wincing when he felt a bite sore from the movement. Worth it, he determined. So worth it. He yawned, rubbed the blood off on his pillow, and fell asleep holding on to Sherlock like his life depended on it.