Remix Fic: Artistic License (1/1)
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, slash
Pairings: John Watson/OMC
Beta: lady_t_220
Notes: This was a bonus remix I wrote for the second round of sherlock_remix. It is based on the wonderful There's A First Time For Everything by kate_lear, which is one of my all-time favourite fics.
Summary: John loves Sunday mornings with Rob.
John wakes slowly, squinting against the bright sunlight that streams through the bedroom window. He's warm and content and now that he's awake, he plans to make the most of his Sunday morning. He reaches out a hand behind him, only to find the space next to him empty. He brushes his hair out of his face and starts to roll over onto his back.
"Rob?"
"Don't move."
John freezes mid-roll, then smiles as he finally catches sight of his boyfriend. Rob is perched on a stool in nothing but boxers, sketch pad balanced on his lap, pencil in one hand. It is a look John is more than familiar with. John moves onto his back and Rob gives him an affectionate scowl. John grins in return.
John loves Sunday mornings with Rob. With the hours John works at the hospital, they don't get much time together and so these lazy Sunday mornings are sacred. The warmth of the early-morning summer sunshine makes John's mood even better and he gives a little stretch, fully aware of Rob's eyes on him.
"Come back to bed."
"Busy," Rob replies with a playful smile. He looks at John for a long time in silence, then flips to a new page in his sketch pad and starts to move the pencil across the paper.
"No, you're not," John says, kicking the sheets free of his legs and baring himself in an attempt to coax his lover back to bed. Rob's eyes flick over his half-hard cock and then move back to his sketch pad as his pencil moves faster.
"I'm sure you can find something to occupy yourself for five minutes," Rob teases, intent on the paper. His eyes flick to John every few seconds, his gaze heavy and warm.
John smiles and draws his legs up, his feet planted flat on the bed as he basks in the sunlight. His eyes are fixed on the ceiling but he can still feel Rob's gaze on him, whispery soft like the brush of fingers.
"Touch yourself," Rob says, his voice turned rough.
John doesn't look at him but he does move his hand down, wrapping it around his growing erection. He sighs a little at the contact and strokes himself slowly.
"Just like that," Rob murmurs, and John can once again hear the scratch of his pencil.
John tucks his free hand under his pillow and tilts his face back into the sunshine as he continues to stroke himself slowly. It's a slow burn, the kind of pleasure that can be spread out for hours, and it is only heightened by the fact that he can tell Rob is watching him intently, focused on rendering this image in rushed pencil strokes. It makes him feel wanton and he gives his cock one long, luxurious stroke as he sighs, letting his knees splay wide. He can feel the tension building in his spine.
"Yeah, that's perfect."
John raises his head for a brief moment to look at Rob - flushed and hard in his boxers - and then settles back down, speeding up his strokes. The slow burn has turned into a fire and he moves swiftly closer to what promises to be a spectacular orgasm.
"Wait."
John’s head jerks up in surprise and Rob smiles widely.
"I don't want you to come until I'm fucking you."
John moans and has to squeeze hard at the base of his cock to stop himself from coming right that instant.
"Hurry up," he breathes, closing his eyes, and he hears the low rumble of Rob's laugh.
John starts to move his hand again, slowly, just enough to keep him hard but not enough to send him over the edge.
"Finger yourself."
"Not helping," John groans, his hand stilling once again as he fights to keep from coming.
"I'm almost done," Rob promises. "And when I am, I'm going to fuck you into the mattress, so you'd better be ready."
John reaches out with his free hand, groping about blindly on the bedside table until he finally finds the bottle of lubricant that was flung there last night. His hand is shaking - his whole body is shaking - by the time he flips the top open and smears lube over his fingers.
This is not a time for flirting, or modesty, and John reaches down to slide one finger inside himself. He's still a little loose from last night, which helps, and he adds a second finger as he returns his other hand to his cock.
"Fuck," he whines, writhing on his own fingers. "Rob."
"Yeah, okay. God, John, you -"
Rob cuts himself off and John lifts his head as he hears the thud of the sketch pad hitting the floor. The pencil follows and then Rob is on his feet, stripping his boxers off and rushing to the bed.
Rob crawls onto the mattress, bending low over John, and crushes their mouths together as he guides John's fingers away. John hitches his legs up, wrapping them around Rob's torso, and lets out a breathless moan as Rob sinks in, inch by slow inch.
"Move," John urges. "Now."
Rob moans as he withdraws but then he shoves back in, his hips slapping against John's skin, and it's perfect. John can feel the tension in his body coiling and he tugs on his cock quickly, overwhelmed with need.
"Fuck," John grunts, lifting up into Rob's thrusts. "Fuck, this is - Oh God, yes."
Rob's mouth finds his again and John kisses him hungrily, tongues sliding together, as Rob thrusts into him. John moans low in his throat and falls apart, spending over his stomach as Rob buries himself inside John and comes as well.
Rob lets out a huff of breath, his head pressed to John's shoulder, and then rolls off, collapsing next to him. John smiles and closes his eyes, loose-limbed and sated.
"I'll have no energy left for the match at this rate," John says breathlessly, smiling widely.
Rob laughs and leans over to press a kiss to John's shoulder, his arm settling over John's stomach. John rests his hand over Rob's and sighs in contentment.
As he lies basking in the afterglow, tucked up against Rob's larger frame, John remembers the conversation he had just the day before with an army recruitment officer. He contemplates what he has learnt of the Medical Corps and the experience it would give him. He turns his head to tell Rob and smiles when he sees that the other man is asleep, nose pressed to John's shoulder. He rolls onto his side and Rob snuggles up against his back, arm secured around John's waist. John links their fingers together and lets out a little yawn as he settles. He'll tell Rob about the Army later.
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, slash
Pairings: John Watson/OMC
Beta: lady_t_220
Notes: This was a bonus remix I wrote for the second round of sherlock_remix. It is based on the wonderful There's A First Time For Everything by kate_lear, which is one of my all-time favourite fics.
Summary: John loves Sunday mornings with Rob.
John wakes slowly, squinting against the bright sunlight that streams through the bedroom window. He's warm and content and now that he's awake, he plans to make the most of his Sunday morning. He reaches out a hand behind him, only to find the space next to him empty. He brushes his hair out of his face and starts to roll over onto his back.
"Rob?"
"Don't move."
John freezes mid-roll, then smiles as he finally catches sight of his boyfriend. Rob is perched on a stool in nothing but boxers, sketch pad balanced on his lap, pencil in one hand. It is a look John is more than familiar with. John moves onto his back and Rob gives him an affectionate scowl. John grins in return.
John loves Sunday mornings with Rob. With the hours John works at the hospital, they don't get much time together and so these lazy Sunday mornings are sacred. The warmth of the early-morning summer sunshine makes John's mood even better and he gives a little stretch, fully aware of Rob's eyes on him.
"Come back to bed."
"Busy," Rob replies with a playful smile. He looks at John for a long time in silence, then flips to a new page in his sketch pad and starts to move the pencil across the paper.
"No, you're not," John says, kicking the sheets free of his legs and baring himself in an attempt to coax his lover back to bed. Rob's eyes flick over his half-hard cock and then move back to his sketch pad as his pencil moves faster.
"I'm sure you can find something to occupy yourself for five minutes," Rob teases, intent on the paper. His eyes flick to John every few seconds, his gaze heavy and warm.
John smiles and draws his legs up, his feet planted flat on the bed as he basks in the sunlight. His eyes are fixed on the ceiling but he can still feel Rob's gaze on him, whispery soft like the brush of fingers.
"Touch yourself," Rob says, his voice turned rough.
John doesn't look at him but he does move his hand down, wrapping it around his growing erection. He sighs a little at the contact and strokes himself slowly.
"Just like that," Rob murmurs, and John can once again hear the scratch of his pencil.
John tucks his free hand under his pillow and tilts his face back into the sunshine as he continues to stroke himself slowly. It's a slow burn, the kind of pleasure that can be spread out for hours, and it is only heightened by the fact that he can tell Rob is watching him intently, focused on rendering this image in rushed pencil strokes. It makes him feel wanton and he gives his cock one long, luxurious stroke as he sighs, letting his knees splay wide. He can feel the tension building in his spine.
"Yeah, that's perfect."
John raises his head for a brief moment to look at Rob - flushed and hard in his boxers - and then settles back down, speeding up his strokes. The slow burn has turned into a fire and he moves swiftly closer to what promises to be a spectacular orgasm.
"Wait."
John’s head jerks up in surprise and Rob smiles widely.
"I don't want you to come until I'm fucking you."
John moans and has to squeeze hard at the base of his cock to stop himself from coming right that instant.
"Hurry up," he breathes, closing his eyes, and he hears the low rumble of Rob's laugh.
John starts to move his hand again, slowly, just enough to keep him hard but not enough to send him over the edge.
"Finger yourself."
"Not helping," John groans, his hand stilling once again as he fights to keep from coming.
"I'm almost done," Rob promises. "And when I am, I'm going to fuck you into the mattress, so you'd better be ready."
John reaches out with his free hand, groping about blindly on the bedside table until he finally finds the bottle of lubricant that was flung there last night. His hand is shaking - his whole body is shaking - by the time he flips the top open and smears lube over his fingers.
This is not a time for flirting, or modesty, and John reaches down to slide one finger inside himself. He's still a little loose from last night, which helps, and he adds a second finger as he returns his other hand to his cock.
"Fuck," he whines, writhing on his own fingers. "Rob."
"Yeah, okay. God, John, you -"
Rob cuts himself off and John lifts his head as he hears the thud of the sketch pad hitting the floor. The pencil follows and then Rob is on his feet, stripping his boxers off and rushing to the bed.
Rob crawls onto the mattress, bending low over John, and crushes their mouths together as he guides John's fingers away. John hitches his legs up, wrapping them around Rob's torso, and lets out a breathless moan as Rob sinks in, inch by slow inch.
"Move," John urges. "Now."
Rob moans as he withdraws but then he shoves back in, his hips slapping against John's skin, and it's perfect. John can feel the tension in his body coiling and he tugs on his cock quickly, overwhelmed with need.
"Fuck," John grunts, lifting up into Rob's thrusts. "Fuck, this is - Oh God, yes."
Rob's mouth finds his again and John kisses him hungrily, tongues sliding together, as Rob thrusts into him. John moans low in his throat and falls apart, spending over his stomach as Rob buries himself inside John and comes as well.
Rob lets out a huff of breath, his head pressed to John's shoulder, and then rolls off, collapsing next to him. John smiles and closes his eyes, loose-limbed and sated.
"I'll have no energy left for the match at this rate," John says breathlessly, smiling widely.
Rob laughs and leans over to press a kiss to John's shoulder, his arm settling over John's stomach. John rests his hand over Rob's and sighs in contentment.
As he lies basking in the afterglow, tucked up against Rob's larger frame, John remembers the conversation he had just the day before with an army recruitment officer. He contemplates what he has learnt of the Medical Corps and the experience it would give him. He turns his head to tell Rob and smiles when he sees that the other man is asleep, nose pressed to John's shoulder. He rolls onto his side and Rob snuggles up against his back, arm secured around John's waist. John links their fingers together and lets out a little yawn as he settles. He'll tell Rob about the Army later.