Fic: We Only Part To Meet Again (4/5)
We Only Part To Meet Again - Part Four
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: John/Sherlock
Warnings: Sexual situations
Spoilers: The Reichenbach Fall
Beta: lady_t_220
Summary: One year after Reichenbach, John is sent to Corsica on an errand for Mycroft. What he doesn't expect to find is a second chance to say all the things he never said.
Part Three
****
Sherlock is sprawled about halfway down the bed, his head resting on John’s bare stomach, his eyes closed. John is sleepy and content as he plays absentmindedly with Sherlock’s hair.
“Still can’t get used to you as a blonde,” John murmurs, pushing the hair back from Sherlock’s forehead.
“I don’t know why it bothers you so much. It’s hardly the most drastic disguise.”
“It just doesn’t seem very... you. You don’t look as clever.”
Sherlock glares at him in annoyance and John grins in reply, coaxing him up for a kiss.
“And then there’s the fact that the curtains don’t match the carpet,” John says, fighting not to laugh.
“Juvenile,” Sherlock comments with a note of petulance that just makes John want to kiss him again.
He gives in to the urge and after a few seconds of resistance, Sherlock kisses back, his hand resting on John’s hip. There is no intent in Sherlock’s grasp but John’s body has other ideas and he moans low in his throat. When Sherlock breaks the kiss to nose at his jaw and brush his tongue against John’s neck, he lets out a louder moan, hands gripping Sherlock’s shoulders.
“I’m too old for this much excitement,” he says, pulling Sherlock back into a kiss.
“A certain part of your anatomy disagrees,” Sherlock mumbles against his mouth and all of a sudden they both dissolve into giggles. They try to keep kissing but soon have to give up because they can’t stop laughing. Sherlock settles against his side, his body shaking against John’s. It’s ridiculous and John isn’t sure what they’re even laughing about anymore but it feels good, the tension of the last few days seeping away.
Their laughter slowly tails off and Sherlock settles with his head against John’s shoulder as John wraps an arm around him to hold him close.
“I can’t wait to have you back home,” John whispers. “Shooting the walls. Contaminating perfectly good food with your experiments -”
“Your food contaminated my experiments, actually.”
John ignores him and continues.
“Winding Mrs. Hudson up. Moaning at how boring everything is. Spending the whole day in pyjamas because you can’t be bothered to get dressed.”
“This isn’t a very flattering account of my personality,” Sherlock complains.
“And yet, it’s all true. You said no more romantic drivel,” John says with a smile, brushing his fingers against Sherlock’s back.
“Actually, that was you.”
John huffs out a laugh and draws Sherlock against him.
“When you get home, I’m going to tie you to the bed so you can’t go away again.”
They fall silent for a moment and Sherlock reaches out to take John's free hand.
"John... If I don't come back-"
"No."
Sherlock huffs and raises himself up on his elbow.
"You're a rational man. You know just as well as I do that there's a chance-"
"No," John says in a clipped voice.
"John."
"No," John says again, quietly. "This is not something I want to be rational about. You are coming home. I will be waiting. Understood?"
Sherlock nods and leans down to kiss John.
****
It doesn't seem to matter how many times they do this, it still feels like the first time. They have been intimate for three days but the raw intensity of that first time is still there every time they come together. It feels new and yet familiar at the same time. This time, the knowledge that this is their last night hangs heavy over them and they take their time, trying to draw out the closeness as long as possible.
They touch each other reverently, trying to commit everything to memory. They do not know how long it will be until they meet again. They don't know how long they will have only these memories to sustain them. John finds himself feeling overwhelmed and sentimental and he can't stop talking, telling Sherlock everything he thought he'd never get the chance to say.
"You're so gorgeous," John murmurs, brushing his fingers against Sherlock's cheek. "And you don't even realise it. You don't see the effect you have on people."
Sherlock silences him with a kiss and forces him onto his back, settling over him. John wraps his arms around him and holds him close. Sherlock moans into the kiss and deepens it, his tongue sliding against John's. Caught up in the kiss, John barely notices Sherlock shifting, putting all his weight on one elbow so he can reach down and wrap his hand around John. As soon as Sherlock touches him, John bucks helplessly against the warmth of his hand. He breaks the kiss to catch his breath and presses his cheek against Sherlock's.
"God, your hands."
He can feel Sherlock's smile and he kisses his temple, smoothing his palms down the other man's back. He keeps going until he can get a good grip on Sherlock's backside and pull him against him.
"That arse."
Sherlock huffs in amusement but he removes his hand and rocks against John, his cheek falling against John's shoulder. By the angle of his head, it's obvious that he's watching them move together.
"We look good together," John says, looking at the way they slide against each other.
"We do," Sherlock agrees breathlessly.
Sherlock pushes harder against him, the best kind of friction, and he moves his mouth to John's ear.
"The next time we see each other, I want you to fuck me," he says, his voice a low purr. "I want to feel you inside me."
"Oh, God."
John’s imagination runs away with him and he lets out a groan, dragging Sherlock’s mouth back to his. He has one hand in Sherlock’s hair, one hand still on his arse, and it could all be over in a matter of seconds but instead he forces himself to a stop and tears his mouth from Sherlock’s. Sherlock makes a choked noise at the loss, but he seems to understand and he stops moving and leans back to look at John.
“I don’t want this night to end,” John admits.
“As pleasant a thought as that is, it would be against the laws of physics,” Sherlock says, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
John rolls his eyes and rubs the back of Sherlock’s neck affectionately.
“Is there a sentimental bone in your body at all?”
“Of course,” Sherlock replies. “Otherwise you’d still be in London.”
“Yes. Miserable and alone. Can’t wait to get back to that.”
“John-”
“It’s fine,” he cuts in, pulling Sherlock down into a kiss now that he's had a chance to calm down. He doesn’t want to think about what happens after tomorrow; doesn’t want to waste what precious time they have left agonising about the weeks, months, maybe even years ahead.
He rolls them over and settles over Sherlock, pulling back from his flushed mouth to smear kisses down the length of his neck.
“You’re brilliant. You amaze me. Every single day you amaze me.”
“John,” Sherlock gets out hesitantly, but John continues.
“I was so alone before I met you. I didn’t even realise it. I just knew something was wrong, something was missing.”
He presses kisses to the base of Sherlock’s neck and draws his tongue over his collarbone.
“You make me feel alive. You give me a reason to live.”
Sherlock is panting now, but whether it is as a direct result of his words or the swipe of his tongue over Sherlock’s stomach is unclear.
“Without you, I’m nothing.”
“John, you are-”
Sherlock breaks off helplessly as John’s tongue flicks against his navel.
“You are everything,” John murmurs. “And I won’t live in a world without you again.”
Before Sherlock can say anything, John swallows him down in one smooth movement and Sherlock can only moan, his hands clutching at John’s shoulders. It is only the second time he has done this but any hesitance is wiped away with Sherlock’s moans. John groans around him and takes him deeper, savouring the taste and smell, the very essence, of Sherlock.
Sherlock is gasping his name over and over as his nails dig into John’s skin. John moves faster, desperate to push him over the edge. Sherlock twitches against him, fighting his body’s urge to thrust, and John grins and swallows him down as far as he can go. Sherlock moans loudly, tries to muffle the sounds by biting down on his hand, and then he is coming, his whole body shuddering underneath John.
John is barely recovered himself when Sherlock starts tugging on his arms, drawing John up the length of his body and sealing their lips together as he wraps his hand around John's cock. John kisses him harder and loses himself in the feel of Sherlock’s hand. It is over in only a few moments and he groans as he finds release, and then collapses against Sherlock.
“I love you,” John breathes, as Sherlock loops his arms around him, not allowing him to move.
“John. I love you. You know that, don’t you?”
“I know. I know.”
They finally disengage from their embrace and clean themselves up quickly, before settling down to sleep. John wraps an arm around Sherlock’s shoulder and holds him close, presses his face against Sherlock’s hair.
“I am going to miss you so much.”
Sherlock remains silent but he presses his face into John’s neck and John can feel him tremble. He kisses the top of the other man’s head and relaxes into the pillows with a sigh. In the moments before he falls asleep, he hopes that tomorrow will never come.
****
Part Five
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: John/Sherlock
Warnings: Sexual situations
Spoilers: The Reichenbach Fall
Beta: lady_t_220
Summary: One year after Reichenbach, John is sent to Corsica on an errand for Mycroft. What he doesn't expect to find is a second chance to say all the things he never said.
Part Three
****
Sherlock is sprawled about halfway down the bed, his head resting on John’s bare stomach, his eyes closed. John is sleepy and content as he plays absentmindedly with Sherlock’s hair.
“Still can’t get used to you as a blonde,” John murmurs, pushing the hair back from Sherlock’s forehead.
“I don’t know why it bothers you so much. It’s hardly the most drastic disguise.”
“It just doesn’t seem very... you. You don’t look as clever.”
Sherlock glares at him in annoyance and John grins in reply, coaxing him up for a kiss.
“And then there’s the fact that the curtains don’t match the carpet,” John says, fighting not to laugh.
“Juvenile,” Sherlock comments with a note of petulance that just makes John want to kiss him again.
He gives in to the urge and after a few seconds of resistance, Sherlock kisses back, his hand resting on John’s hip. There is no intent in Sherlock’s grasp but John’s body has other ideas and he moans low in his throat. When Sherlock breaks the kiss to nose at his jaw and brush his tongue against John’s neck, he lets out a louder moan, hands gripping Sherlock’s shoulders.
“I’m too old for this much excitement,” he says, pulling Sherlock back into a kiss.
“A certain part of your anatomy disagrees,” Sherlock mumbles against his mouth and all of a sudden they both dissolve into giggles. They try to keep kissing but soon have to give up because they can’t stop laughing. Sherlock settles against his side, his body shaking against John’s. It’s ridiculous and John isn’t sure what they’re even laughing about anymore but it feels good, the tension of the last few days seeping away.
Their laughter slowly tails off and Sherlock settles with his head against John’s shoulder as John wraps an arm around him to hold him close.
“I can’t wait to have you back home,” John whispers. “Shooting the walls. Contaminating perfectly good food with your experiments -”
“Your food contaminated my experiments, actually.”
John ignores him and continues.
“Winding Mrs. Hudson up. Moaning at how boring everything is. Spending the whole day in pyjamas because you can’t be bothered to get dressed.”
“This isn’t a very flattering account of my personality,” Sherlock complains.
“And yet, it’s all true. You said no more romantic drivel,” John says with a smile, brushing his fingers against Sherlock’s back.
“Actually, that was you.”
John huffs out a laugh and draws Sherlock against him.
“When you get home, I’m going to tie you to the bed so you can’t go away again.”
They fall silent for a moment and Sherlock reaches out to take John's free hand.
"John... If I don't come back-"
"No."
Sherlock huffs and raises himself up on his elbow.
"You're a rational man. You know just as well as I do that there's a chance-"
"No," John says in a clipped voice.
"John."
"No," John says again, quietly. "This is not something I want to be rational about. You are coming home. I will be waiting. Understood?"
Sherlock nods and leans down to kiss John.
****
It doesn't seem to matter how many times they do this, it still feels like the first time. They have been intimate for three days but the raw intensity of that first time is still there every time they come together. It feels new and yet familiar at the same time. This time, the knowledge that this is their last night hangs heavy over them and they take their time, trying to draw out the closeness as long as possible.
They touch each other reverently, trying to commit everything to memory. They do not know how long it will be until they meet again. They don't know how long they will have only these memories to sustain them. John finds himself feeling overwhelmed and sentimental and he can't stop talking, telling Sherlock everything he thought he'd never get the chance to say.
"You're so gorgeous," John murmurs, brushing his fingers against Sherlock's cheek. "And you don't even realise it. You don't see the effect you have on people."
Sherlock silences him with a kiss and forces him onto his back, settling over him. John wraps his arms around him and holds him close. Sherlock moans into the kiss and deepens it, his tongue sliding against John's. Caught up in the kiss, John barely notices Sherlock shifting, putting all his weight on one elbow so he can reach down and wrap his hand around John. As soon as Sherlock touches him, John bucks helplessly against the warmth of his hand. He breaks the kiss to catch his breath and presses his cheek against Sherlock's.
"God, your hands."
He can feel Sherlock's smile and he kisses his temple, smoothing his palms down the other man's back. He keeps going until he can get a good grip on Sherlock's backside and pull him against him.
"That arse."
Sherlock huffs in amusement but he removes his hand and rocks against John, his cheek falling against John's shoulder. By the angle of his head, it's obvious that he's watching them move together.
"We look good together," John says, looking at the way they slide against each other.
"We do," Sherlock agrees breathlessly.
Sherlock pushes harder against him, the best kind of friction, and he moves his mouth to John's ear.
"The next time we see each other, I want you to fuck me," he says, his voice a low purr. "I want to feel you inside me."
"Oh, God."
John’s imagination runs away with him and he lets out a groan, dragging Sherlock’s mouth back to his. He has one hand in Sherlock’s hair, one hand still on his arse, and it could all be over in a matter of seconds but instead he forces himself to a stop and tears his mouth from Sherlock’s. Sherlock makes a choked noise at the loss, but he seems to understand and he stops moving and leans back to look at John.
“I don’t want this night to end,” John admits.
“As pleasant a thought as that is, it would be against the laws of physics,” Sherlock says, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
John rolls his eyes and rubs the back of Sherlock’s neck affectionately.
“Is there a sentimental bone in your body at all?”
“Of course,” Sherlock replies. “Otherwise you’d still be in London.”
“Yes. Miserable and alone. Can’t wait to get back to that.”
“John-”
“It’s fine,” he cuts in, pulling Sherlock down into a kiss now that he's had a chance to calm down. He doesn’t want to think about what happens after tomorrow; doesn’t want to waste what precious time they have left agonising about the weeks, months, maybe even years ahead.
He rolls them over and settles over Sherlock, pulling back from his flushed mouth to smear kisses down the length of his neck.
“You’re brilliant. You amaze me. Every single day you amaze me.”
“John,” Sherlock gets out hesitantly, but John continues.
“I was so alone before I met you. I didn’t even realise it. I just knew something was wrong, something was missing.”
He presses kisses to the base of Sherlock’s neck and draws his tongue over his collarbone.
“You make me feel alive. You give me a reason to live.”
Sherlock is panting now, but whether it is as a direct result of his words or the swipe of his tongue over Sherlock’s stomach is unclear.
“Without you, I’m nothing.”
“John, you are-”
Sherlock breaks off helplessly as John’s tongue flicks against his navel.
“You are everything,” John murmurs. “And I won’t live in a world without you again.”
Before Sherlock can say anything, John swallows him down in one smooth movement and Sherlock can only moan, his hands clutching at John’s shoulders. It is only the second time he has done this but any hesitance is wiped away with Sherlock’s moans. John groans around him and takes him deeper, savouring the taste and smell, the very essence, of Sherlock.
Sherlock is gasping his name over and over as his nails dig into John’s skin. John moves faster, desperate to push him over the edge. Sherlock twitches against him, fighting his body’s urge to thrust, and John grins and swallows him down as far as he can go. Sherlock moans loudly, tries to muffle the sounds by biting down on his hand, and then he is coming, his whole body shuddering underneath John.
John is barely recovered himself when Sherlock starts tugging on his arms, drawing John up the length of his body and sealing their lips together as he wraps his hand around John's cock. John kisses him harder and loses himself in the feel of Sherlock’s hand. It is over in only a few moments and he groans as he finds release, and then collapses against Sherlock.
“I love you,” John breathes, as Sherlock loops his arms around him, not allowing him to move.
“John. I love you. You know that, don’t you?”
“I know. I know.”
They finally disengage from their embrace and clean themselves up quickly, before settling down to sleep. John wraps an arm around Sherlock’s shoulder and holds him close, presses his face against Sherlock’s hair.
“I am going to miss you so much.”
Sherlock remains silent but he presses his face into John’s neck and John can feel him tremble. He kisses the top of the other man’s head and relaxes into the pillows with a sigh. In the moments before he falls asleep, he hopes that tomorrow will never come.
****
Part Five