Re: Fill: Welcome Back 15/?revolution25January 7 2011, 10:09:21 UTC
He took a step closer to John trying to see what he would do. John was looking down at the floor in front of him, but he didn’t jump at Sherlock’s movement. Sherlock took another step, then another and another, every time waiting to see if John would react, until he was in front of John who was still looking at the ground.
He wanted to see it. He wanted to see the scar, to see the pain John had been in while he was away, what he had to go through. And to show John that he wasn’t going to be freaked out by it, that he could help.
He reached for the top button to John’s button down, when John flinched he stopped but didn’t take his hand away. He learned this from John. John’s steady hands would always stop when he needed them to, but he wouldn’t back down.
John gave a ragged exhale, and Sherlock continued. Sherlock was very slow with his movements, and gentle with his touch.
“Which side?” Sherlock asked when he was finished.
John didn’t say anything, didn’t look at him, he just motioned his head a little to his right.
Sherlock opened the shirt little by little allowing John time to stop him. He lifted the shirt over John’s shoulder so it hung by the cuff on his wrist.
The scar was on his chest, next to the shoulder. It was still very red, and deeper towards the center. It had tendrils, mostly pointing to the left, jagged and deep. John had to have dug the bullet out himself, where ever it happened they must have been miles away from help and no way to get there.
Sherlock carefully put his hand on John’s arm, testing if he’d flinch. John did flinch, but quickly eased into Sherlock’s touch. Sherlock bent down and kissed gingerly, right above the scar. John didn’t flinch, but he did become rigid beneath Sherlock’s hands. Sherlock kissed below the scar, then on each side of it.
He moved his head away just a fraction and John’s body eased under him. He was at a loss; he didn’t know what else to do to prove himself to John. He decided to do the thing he wanted to do since he saw John again. Sherlock rested his head between John’s clavicle and his neck, breathing him in.
It was like coming home. He felt safe and content in a way that had escaped him since John went away, something he never knew how to classify before.
John started to breathe heavily, and one arm carefully went around Sherlock’s back and tentatively touched him. When Sherlock didn’t move John’s arm crushed him to John as the other wrapped around him and did the same.
When John let go of the cane Sherlock had to support some of John’s weight, but he didn’t mind, he could never mind.
Re: Fill: Welcome Back 16/?revolution25January 7 2011, 10:11:02 UTC
When John woke up he was holding something soft yet hard closely to him. Unclenching his fingers was hard work, they felt so numb he wasn’t sure he really let go until his palms were flat against what he was holding to him.
Sherlock
His mind filled in for him. He opened his eyes, still puffy from crying apparently. He saw Sherlock’s shirt in front of him, the colour different because of the sun, it was either setting or rising he didn’t know how long he had been asleep.
All he remembered was Sherlock kissing around his scar, unafraid and not disgusted by it. He also remembers pulling Sherlock close, needing him near, but after that his mind was a blank.
They were both fully dressed, even shoes were still on, and they were lying down face to face.
“Where am I?” John’s scratchy voice asked.
“Our room,” Sherlock sounded like he had been awake for a while.
John closed his eyes and nuzzled into Sherlock’s chest. It was just like Sherlock to assume such a big leap had occurred between them; that John would be living here now and sharing Sherlock’s bed. Presumptuous, but damn him he was right; he always was.
“We still have our shoes on,” John said.
“With the death grip you’ve had on me I couldn’t reach them.”
John started to move his arms away from Sherlock but was stopped, “I didn’t say it was a bad thing.”
They were silent for a long while, and then Sherlock answered a question that wasn’t asked, “You cried. You held onto me and cried. It’s okay that you don’t remember, nothing happened. I mean if you don’t want this to be our room-“
Re: Fill: Welcome Back 17/?revolution25January 7 2011, 10:12:26 UTC
Apparently in the time that John was away Sherlock had become insecure. John had to fix that.
John kissed the front of Sherlock’s shirt and nuzzled upward towards Sherlock’s neck.
“I don’t have much to move in, just my clothes and my gun.” John said.
“What about all of my old things?” Sherlock’s voice sounded strained.
John smiled to himself as he lightly kissed the hollow of Sherlock’s neck, “Don’t need them if I have you.” Panic started to rise from the bottom of his stomach, “I have you don’t I?” he tried to not sound needy.
“Always. Whether you like it or not.”
John kissed his neck again, remembering old sensations, but also cataloguing new ones.
Sherlock kissed the top of his head, then his forehead and his cheeks, drawing a symbol on his back with his right hand; the other hand was between John’s shoulder blades drawing him nearer.
After a few minutes Sherlock tilted John’s head upward and slowly descended on John’s lips. The kiss was tentative, but when John responded it became lazy and slow both not needing anything more at the moment.
Sherlock found all of the places John didn’t like to be touched anymore, and some new places that when Sherlock touched John would moan contentedly.
John didn’t like his legs touched, or the backs of his arms. He did lean into Sherlock when he ran his fingers down John’s spine, and John panted when Sherlock touched his chest just below his heart.
John did somewhat the same, but he seemed more concerned with pulling Sherlock closer, wanting to feel the heat of Sherlock’s body through all of their clothes.
John’s hand slipped further down than he intended, he was trying to bring Sherlock’s lower back closer to him needing Sherlock close. When he pulled Sherlock closer he was grabbing Sherlock’s arse, rubbing their half hard cocks against each other. John decided this was a very fortunate accident and lazily rubbed himself against Sherlock again and again.
Sherlock rubbed himself against John, happy to feel John’s body respond to him. He wanted to ask if it was still only him that did this to John, if he was still the only man that could do this, but that could be dealt with later. He put it in a folder in his head and flagged it for later use.
Re: Fill: Welcome Back 18/?revolution25January 7 2011, 10:14:19 UTC
Sherlock pulled their clothes away so skin was making contact with skin, but not taking the time to have them fully naked. Finally John’s thrusts slid his naked cock against Sherlock’s.
Sherlock moaned and met John’s thrusts so their cocks were sliding against each other and rubbing against lower abdomens. Sherlock smiled and licked John’s neck when he saw his precum on John’s cock and stomach.
Sherlock found John’s mouth again, exploring with his tongue. Soon languid strokes and licks became needier, and were replaced with moans and thrusts.
“I need you,” John said when he couldn’t take it anymore.
Sherlock moaned and took both of their erections in his hand rubbing them together.
Instantly the tightness began to collect in Sherlock’s cock and balls while the head and shaft of his cock rubbed against Johns.
John bit down on Sherlock’s shoulder as he tried to muffle his own moans. Sherlock quickened his pace until John forgot he was trying not to be loud and moaned and begged into Sherlock’s neck.
This had always been Sherlock’s favourite part, when John would finally just let go.
It didn’t take long for them to come, both being years out of practice. Sherlock’s hand jerked awkwardly as he came, he aimed himself so his seamen painted John’s stomach, moaning John’s name. John stroked himself twice after Sherlock let go and came long and hard panting his name and digging short fingernails into Sherlock’s shoulder trying to bring him closer.
When Sherlock’s legs worked again he got up and cleaned them both off with a shirt that still had the price tag on it, and fully undressed the both of them. As he was doing this he remembered that this used to be what John did, Sherlock would lie on the bed and watch John clean them up, usually wetting a towel with warm water.
Sherlock looked at the ruined shirt in his hands and felt as if he had done it all wrong, that he needed to do exactly what John did for him.
“I like it,” John said, “you doing it like this; it’s what you would do.”
Re: Fill: Welcome Back 19/19revolution25January 7 2011, 10:16:27 UTC
Sherlock smiled, John was right, Sherlock would never take the time to wet a towel, he would however ruin a shirt Mycroft just got for him with his and John’s come.
He grabbed the blanket from where he had thrown it the previous morning and covered them both. When he settled back down John rested his head on Sherlock’s shoulder and pulled him closer.
They were quiet both content to watch as the room grew darker with the setting sun.
Sherlock’s mobile rang and he cursed as he answered it hoping it wasn’t Scotland Yard, at least not yet.
He put the mobile on speakerphone and said a terse, “Yes.”
“The rings will come with the morning post,” Mycroft said sounding far too pleased with himself.
“What?” Sherlock asked.
“You and John are now married, congratulations to you both.” Mycroft immediately hung up and Sherlock threw the mobile across the room.
“What’s wrong?” John asked sleepily.
“He had us married and didn’t tell us, isn’t that enough?”
“We were going to get married eventually, saves us the trouble.” John said.
“I thought you wanted to be there for your wedding.” Sherlock said unsure of what exactly John was saying.
“Things change. I’m just glad that you didn’t give up on me. Even after I gave up on myself.”
Sherlock let out a couple deep breaths, trying not to show the emotion he felt at John’s words, and held onto John a little tighter.
“I forgot to say,” Sherlock spoke finally kissing the top of John’s head.
In his tired state all John could reply with was a “Mmhh?”
Re: Fill: Welcome Back 19/19dayjaJanuary 7 2011, 23:18:59 UTC
A brilliant story. The ending is exactly what one would want...and yet still leaves me feeling a bit unfulfilled...like it's perfect in this moment and you know they will heal...but you left off before they actually got there. John won't magically be over the war and Sherlock won't magically be over the silence even if he does understand it. (it doesn't help that John never really acknowledged what he did to Sherlock.) Actually, I think what effected me the most is that there is a lot of angst and emotions and no real 'villain' for me to aim anger or annoyance at. So I want to get annoyed at John for hurting Sherlock and not ever facing that fact, but I can't really be annoyed with him which leaves me annoyed in general...which is not to say that I found your story annoying. Just...emotional. So good job.
Re: Fill: Welcome Back 19/19 OP againrevolution25January 9 2011, 12:03:34 UTC
Wow, you've ended this marvelously. Very beautiful. Things between them aren't quite right yet but that's good because it echoes relationships in the real world. Thank you very much for this wonderful story.I hope we all see more from you in the future!
Re: Fill: Welcome Back 19/19revolution25January 9 2011, 15:56:10 UTC
OMG. What an emotional rollercoaster. But a great one. I was bawling through most of this. But then you made it better in the end. Absolutely beautiful work of art. Thank you so much for filling this prompt so wonderfully. ♥♥♥
Re: Fill: Welcome Back 19/19aslipperyslothJanuary 17 2011, 14:17:23 UTC
I loved this. I think what made it hurt the most was it was only John's issues stopping contact and not something like disappearance or death. This kind of thing happens so often in real life, and while John's is an extreme case we've all been to that place where you just don't know how to explain or say something to someone and then the more time goes by the more awkward it would seem to try.
He wanted to see it. He wanted to see the scar, to see the pain John had been in while he was away, what he had to go through. And to show John that he wasn’t going to be freaked out by it, that he could help.
He reached for the top button to John’s button down, when John flinched he stopped but didn’t take his hand away. He learned this from John. John’s steady hands would always stop when he needed them to, but he wouldn’t back down.
John gave a ragged exhale, and Sherlock continued. Sherlock was very slow with his movements, and gentle with his touch.
“Which side?” Sherlock asked when he was finished.
John didn’t say anything, didn’t look at him, he just motioned his head a little to his right.
Sherlock opened the shirt little by little allowing John time to stop him. He lifted the shirt over John’s shoulder so it hung by the cuff on his wrist.
The scar was on his chest, next to the shoulder. It was still very red, and deeper towards the center. It had tendrils, mostly pointing to the left, jagged and deep. John had to have dug the bullet out himself, where ever it happened they must have been miles away from help and no way to get there.
Sherlock carefully put his hand on John’s arm, testing if he’d flinch. John did flinch, but quickly eased into Sherlock’s touch. Sherlock bent down and kissed gingerly, right above the scar. John didn’t flinch, but he did become rigid beneath Sherlock’s hands. Sherlock kissed below the scar, then on each side of it.
He moved his head away just a fraction and John’s body eased under him. He was at a loss; he didn’t know what else to do to prove himself to John. He decided to do the thing he wanted to do since he saw John again. Sherlock rested his head between John’s clavicle and his neck, breathing him in.
It was like coming home. He felt safe and content in a way that had escaped him since John went away, something he never knew how to classify before.
John started to breathe heavily, and one arm carefully went around Sherlock’s back and tentatively touched him. When Sherlock didn’t move John’s arm crushed him to John as the other wrapped around him and did the same.
When John let go of the cane Sherlock had to support some of John’s weight, but he didn’t mind, he could never mind.
* * *
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Sherlock
His mind filled in for him. He opened his eyes, still puffy from crying apparently. He saw Sherlock’s shirt in front of him, the colour different because of the sun, it was either setting or rising he didn’t know how long he had been asleep.
All he remembered was Sherlock kissing around his scar, unafraid and not disgusted by it. He also remembers pulling Sherlock close, needing him near, but after that his mind was a blank.
They were both fully dressed, even shoes were still on, and they were lying down face to face.
“Where am I?” John’s scratchy voice asked.
“Our room,” Sherlock sounded like he had been awake for a while.
John closed his eyes and nuzzled into Sherlock’s chest. It was just like Sherlock to assume such a big leap had occurred between them; that John would be living here now and sharing Sherlock’s bed. Presumptuous, but damn him he was right; he always was.
“We still have our shoes on,” John said.
“With the death grip you’ve had on me I couldn’t reach them.”
John started to move his arms away from Sherlock but was stopped, “I didn’t say it was a bad thing.”
They were silent for a long while, and then Sherlock answered a question that wasn’t asked, “You cried. You held onto me and cried. It’s okay that you don’t remember, nothing happened. I mean if you don’t want this to be our room-“
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John kissed the front of Sherlock’s shirt and nuzzled upward towards Sherlock’s neck.
“I don’t have much to move in, just my clothes and my gun.” John said.
“What about all of my old things?” Sherlock’s voice sounded strained.
John smiled to himself as he lightly kissed the hollow of Sherlock’s neck, “Don’t need them if I have you.” Panic started to rise from the bottom of his stomach, “I have you don’t I?” he tried to not sound needy.
“Always. Whether you like it or not.”
John kissed his neck again, remembering old sensations, but also cataloguing new ones.
Sherlock kissed the top of his head, then his forehead and his cheeks, drawing a symbol on his back with his right hand; the other hand was between John’s shoulder blades drawing him nearer.
After a few minutes Sherlock tilted John’s head upward and slowly descended on John’s lips. The kiss was tentative, but when John responded it became lazy and slow both not needing anything more at the moment.
Sherlock found all of the places John didn’t like to be touched anymore, and some new places that when Sherlock touched John would moan contentedly.
John didn’t like his legs touched, or the backs of his arms. He did lean into Sherlock when he ran his fingers down John’s spine, and John panted when Sherlock touched his chest just below his heart.
John did somewhat the same, but he seemed more concerned with pulling Sherlock closer, wanting to feel the heat of Sherlock’s body through all of their clothes.
John’s hand slipped further down than he intended, he was trying to bring Sherlock’s lower back closer to him needing Sherlock close. When he pulled Sherlock closer he was grabbing Sherlock’s arse, rubbing their half hard cocks against each other. John decided this was a very fortunate accident and lazily rubbed himself against Sherlock again and again.
Sherlock rubbed himself against John, happy to feel John’s body respond to him. He wanted to ask if it was still only him that did this to John, if he was still the only man that could do this, but that could be dealt with later. He put it in a folder in his head and flagged it for later use.
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Sherlock moaned and met John’s thrusts so their cocks were sliding against each other and rubbing against lower abdomens. Sherlock smiled and licked John’s neck when he saw his precum on John’s cock and stomach.
Sherlock found John’s mouth again, exploring with his tongue. Soon languid strokes and licks became needier, and were replaced with moans and thrusts.
“I need you,” John said when he couldn’t take it anymore.
Sherlock moaned and took both of their erections in his hand rubbing them together.
Instantly the tightness began to collect in Sherlock’s cock and balls while the head and shaft of his cock rubbed against Johns.
John bit down on Sherlock’s shoulder as he tried to muffle his own moans. Sherlock quickened his pace until John forgot he was trying not to be loud and moaned and begged into Sherlock’s neck.
This had always been Sherlock’s favourite part, when John would finally just let go.
It didn’t take long for them to come, both being years out of practice. Sherlock’s hand jerked awkwardly as he came, he aimed himself so his seamen painted John’s stomach, moaning John’s name. John stroked himself twice after Sherlock let go and came long and hard panting his name and digging short fingernails into Sherlock’s shoulder trying to bring him closer.
When Sherlock’s legs worked again he got up and cleaned them both off with a shirt that still had the price tag on it, and fully undressed the both of them. As he was doing this he remembered that this used to be what John did, Sherlock would lie on the bed and watch John clean them up, usually wetting a towel with warm water.
Sherlock looked at the ruined shirt in his hands and felt as if he had done it all wrong, that he needed to do exactly what John did for him.
“I like it,” John said, “you doing it like this; it’s what you would do.”
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He grabbed the blanket from where he had thrown it the previous morning and covered them both. When he settled back down John rested his head on Sherlock’s shoulder and pulled him closer.
They were quiet both content to watch as the room grew darker with the setting sun.
Sherlock’s mobile rang and he cursed as he answered it hoping it wasn’t Scotland Yard, at least not yet.
He put the mobile on speakerphone and said a terse, “Yes.”
“The rings will come with the morning post,” Mycroft said sounding far too pleased with himself.
“What?” Sherlock asked.
“You and John are now married, congratulations to you both.” Mycroft immediately hung up and Sherlock threw the mobile across the room.
“What’s wrong?” John asked sleepily.
“He had us married and didn’t tell us, isn’t that enough?”
“We were going to get married eventually, saves us the trouble.” John said.
“I thought you wanted to be there for your wedding.” Sherlock said unsure of what exactly John was saying.
“Things change. I’m just glad that you didn’t give up on me. Even after I gave up on myself.”
Sherlock let out a couple deep breaths, trying not to show the emotion he felt at John’s words, and held onto John a little tighter.
“I forgot to say,” Sherlock spoke finally kissing the top of John’s head.
In his tired state all John could reply with was a “Mmhh?”
“Welcome back.”
~END~
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Still, I loved the reunion but I am curious on how they got together...will you be writing anything else in this universe?
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<3 Anyway, great work.
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