Honeymoon part one.
Okay. I literally haven't updated since..July, last year? I'm so sorry, I haven't deserted this fic, even though it seems like it. I've had exams, been working, just been doing everything but this, it seems. I currently have no motivation for this, either. But I'm sure it'll come to me soon! I'll update as soon as I can, I'm sorry for leaving everyone hanging!
Enjoy, and review! :)
John hopped into the car behind Sherlock, and they turned to each other, grinning. "We're married" John whispered, fiddling with his gold band.
Sherlock smiled back, chewing on his lip nervously. "yes…yes we are" he murmured softly.
He leaned towards John, and brushed their lips together, closing his eyes at the sensation.
His husband returned the kiss rather forcefully, surprising Sherlock. After a few moments, he responded in full, and slowly began to stroke his hand up John's thigh.
As John allowed a small moan to escape his lips, they both heard a quiet cough, and Sherlock straightened up, narrowing his eyes as he looked around the vehicle. John moaned at the sudden loss of contact and pressed closer to his husband.
A few seconds later, somone cleared their throat.
"Mycroft, piss off" Sherlock hissed, folding his arms and looking straight as a champagne bottle which, John now realised, hid what looked like a discreetly placed video camera.
Another few moments passed before anyone spoke again.
"Sherlock, John" Mycroft acknowledged, and despite only being able to hear him, they could sense his smirk.
When Sherlock didn't justify the greeting with a response, John heaved a sigh, and filled in. "Hello, Mycroft. Anything you want, particularly?" he smiled "or are you just doing a narrative for the rest of our honeymoon?" Sherlock smirked at this. "not that wel'll be having much time for talking…not with all the" "-I don't want to know" Mycroft cut off, "No. I'm just contacting you to explain some of your honeymoon plans."
Before Sherlock could respond with a scithing remark, John gave him a look, and he sighed, resting his head against the soft leather padding of the seat.
Mycroft had paid for the entire wedding, and, to their dismay, the honeymoon. His only request was that he planned the destination, and they wouldn't know anything until they arrived. Although he didn't show it, John knew he and Sherlock were equally grateful for his generosity, if not slightly embarassed.
"there's a case, John, in the boot, that you two can look through when you get to where you will be staying. You're on your way to a private plane currently, enjoy your flight, and your honeymoon".
Mycroft was about to turn off the microphone and recorder, when John called out. "Myc!..." he paused, and he could sense that Mycroft had been about to leave. "…thank you, ever so much. Really Mycroft, thanks".
"It's nothing" Mycroft replied, his voice tremblnig slightly as he lifted off the earpiece and handed it to Anthea.
Sherlock had been completely silent as he grabbed John's hands, and, with eyes closed whispered "He's investing in our lives." John turned to his husband, and blinked, confused and waiting for an explanation.
"he's doing all this...because he didn't get the chance to with Greg" his voice wobbled, a tear swimming down his face over over his lips.
"oh" John whispered, as he continued to clutch at Sherlock's hand, his heart pounding, hating having to see his partner upset.
They sat in silence until they arrived at the airport, and John jumped out excitedly, almost child-like in his manner. "I've never been in a private plane before!" he exclaimed, grinning. Sherlock smiled, and with a wink, replied "It gets rather taxing after a while".
They slowly climbed the steps and settled down into the comfortable wide seats on the large plane. "ah, yes!" Sherlock whispered, grinning. John raised an eyebrow, smiling at his.
He looked back "Oh, yes, I've realised this is my favourite plane!"
John chuckled, "you have a favourite plane?".
Sherlock rolled his eyes, "watch" he whispered.
He pressed a button to his left, and a large television rose from a metal block in the ground. A few seconds later, and their chairs splayed out, resulting in what looked like a wide single, or a thin double bed.
"woah" John muttered, now lying down. Sherlock shuffled closer, and laid his head in John's lap. He noticed that he had kicked his shoes off, and John grinned, his hand automatically running through his black curls.
Sherlock closed his eyes, and nestled into John's stomach, muttering something inaudible. "have a rest" John whispered, closing his own eyes as Sherlock grunted in agreement.
Sherlock groaned as he was poked awake. "Sherlock, get up, we're here".
"where are we?" he muttered, rubbing his eyes and shuffling across to look out of the small window.
"the Maldives" John whispered. "Look how beautiful it is".
And it was. Sherlock almost gasped at the sight. They could see crystal clear water in the distance, the sky was perfectly blue, untarnished by clouds.
"he's outdone himself" John joked, stepping out of the plane with the help of a beaming air hostess. He was greeted by an attractive tanned man who introduced himself as Francis, their guide for that evening and the next day. Sherlock had pushed past the man, before turning and angrily deducing that he had been adopted at birth although of course he wasn't to know that because he was an idiot like everyone else. He'd also had a one night stand with a woman who owned a python.
And finally, he could tell that his cat had been hit by a car, and he would be sorry about that, but cats are "dreadful creatures" and shouldn't exist in the first place.
When John noticed the tears in Francis' eyes, he apologised profusely, elbowed Sherlock in the ribs, and explained that he was like this when he was tired.
After getting in the car that had been waiting for them, they explained that they'd rather just go to the hotel for the night, and Francis left them after being dropped off at his flat.
They arrived at the "hotel" ten minutes later, and it took another ten minutes for either of them to be able to hold themselves up long enough to get out of the car. The small cabin was resting over the calm water, and the glass walls which encased the building allowed light to stream in.
The chauffeur handed them their suitcases and the case John presumed was what Mycroft had been talking about.
"Sherlock…" John whispered, his eyes wide.
"I know" Sherlock interrupted, wrapping his arms around John's frame. "It's beautiful".
They stepped through the dooraway, and entered the open plan living area, their breaths hitching at the sight. "Jesus, Mycroft's outdone himself" John murmured, squeezing Sherlock's hand.
One of the two walls that led to the outdoors was purely glass, leading onto the water they were resting on, which they were sure would come in handy. Everything was decorated to a minimalist standard, but each piece of furniture, each decoration was slightly different, making it more comfortable rather than cold.
There was a long sofa that spanned the breadth of the room, and a fan was already spinning, spreading cold gusts of air around the expanse of the large area.
Both of them stood there, utterly shocked with what Sherlock's brother had chosen for them.
"Remind me to thank him" Sherlock chucked softly, pulling John up to press a heated kiss to his lips.
John pulled away minutes later, panting and slightly red in the face. "I think the rest of the tour can wait, don't you?" he breathed, closing his eyes as he pressed himself flush against his husband.
"I like to think so"