A Righteous Return - AU - Locked to seaweed_writes

[ihadabadday]

Once Upon a Time in a kingdom far away and filled with magic and dragons, there was a King and his Wizard. Together they did great things, bringing peace to the world and to its people. They were the best of friends, as close as any two men could be. Until one day the King was gravely injured defending his Wizard...

He gasped as the arrow struck his shoulder. Just between the gap in his armor. Too low to be anything but fatal. He knew that. But he was the King of England. He wielded Excalibur. He would not go down with out a fight. Of course /he/ would call him foolish for this. For defending him in this way. He was a sorcerer, a wizard, after all.

His knees gave out as the blood loss started to affect him. He barely noticed as strong arms came around him.

"It's okay." He assured the man, "You'll be okay. If... I'll return." He coughed a bit, feeling the pain. But it was all okay. His friend. His Wizard was alive. He pressed Excalibur into the man's hands.

"Return this to the Lady of the Lake. Please. It needs to be safe." He knew what would happen if it was in the wrong hands.

He didn't have much time. He knew that. He reached up and touched his Wizard's face. "Find me again." He managed before he closed his eyes, arm falling limply to his side.

The King of the Brits, of England, was gone.

---

John shot up in bed, gasping for breath. He pressed a hand to his face and took a deep breath. Another nightmare. So many had piled up over the years. Loosing Arthur, the two Great Wars. Even recent events were enough to make him frightened. He got out of bed and walked over to the window. After opening the blinds, he stared out at the blinking lights. Albion had changed so much in recent time. Just the past hundred years alone. He let out a sigh.

There had been one time in all these years the had started to feel Arthur return. During the second Great War... The need for him was great then than it had been years earlier during the first. He pressed a fist to the window and sighed. "Arthur, we need you..." There was the unspoken, I need you. It was always unspoken. He had never dared tell the King. He couldn't, not when he had a Queen that adored him so and who he adored in return.

He let out a long held breath and looked back out to the night sky. He didn't need this flatshare, but it was convenient to be around people again.

---

He had been living with Sherlock Holmes for three months now. Just long enough to know he could stand the man, but not long enough to really know how he felt about the man. Other than... Okay.

John had left Sherlock lying on the couch when he went off to work. The A&E. He loved working in emergency medicine. He could help people and keep an eye out for Arthur and the Knights.

Of course, this was the day when a psych patient broke out and started to wave a scalpel at everyone. John stepped in front of a nurse only to get stabbed in the neck. He put his hand up to press against the wound, trembling. Oh, shock. He slowly sunk to the ground as he heard his coworkers starting to swarm.

And it was about fifteen minutes later that Sherlock's mobile started going off.

Comments

[seaweed_writes]

"Good." He whispered against John's lips. "Because I don't want to regret what I am about to do."

Sherlock closed his eyes and closed that final distance between them. Where as the first kiss had been brief and tentative, this was charged and firm, but not sloppy or too forceful or too needy. There was no tongue, just a press of lips, a few heartbeats, and then Sherlock pulled away again.

"Tell me, that wasn't unwarranted." He needed to hear it from the man's lips.

[ihadabadday]

His heart was beating so rapidly he thought it might burst from his chest. John licked his lips when Sherlock pulled away. No. He needed the man. More. Please.

"I wanted you to kiss him. I want you to do so much more." John managed.

He wanted to beg and plead. For Sherlock to know how much he wanted the man.

[seaweed_writes]

Oh, how he wanted to take this beautiful, wonderful man apart.

But he didn't want to rush into anything. He had learned a lot of things today- John was magical, he was not only just magical but he was *THE* Merlin the magician. And John.. or Merlin.. had feelings for him, feelings that he returned.

And to add to all of that.. he was... descended.. or maybe reincarnated, he hadn't asked... from Arthur. THE king Arthur.

Sherlock wasn't sure that he could deal with much more this day.


"We can, John. We can. But.. here is no rush.. We have waited a thousand years, we can wait a few more moments." He smiled softly.

[ihadabadday]

"Tease..." John pouted a bit. He wanted to be broken down and built back up by him. He wanted to feel Sherlock, explore every part of him. He wanted. He ached.

"But I suppose we can wait a few more moments..." but what was a moment?

John licked his lips and sat back a bit. He pressed a hand to his lips. He swore they tingled a bit. But those kisses were addicting. He needed more of Sherlock. To devour him and be immersed in him.

[seaweed_writes]

It was easy for Sherlock to read the disappointment on John's face, even when he was trying to keep it light and make a joke.

"You like a tease, do you?" Sherlock asked with a quirk of an eyebrow. His hand, the one that had been touching Excalibur, ran up and down the side of John's cheek.

Sherlock leaned in again, this kiss was longer, more sensual. after a few moments, he opened his mouth, trying to gain access to John's mouth with his tongue. His hand moved back to John's hair, gripping him tightly and pulling him forward.

[ihadabadday]

He flushed at those words. "Yes..." John answered.

But then he was kissing Sherlock again. That hand gripping his hair. He moaned into the kiss. Fuck. Fuck. He was glad they were kneeling/sitting because he may have dropped to the floor.

Sherlock was quite good at this. Kissing. Making him weak in his knees. He brought one hand up and gripped Sherlock's shoulder. He didn't push or pull, just holding. He wanted... more.

[seaweed_writes]

They were both still kneeling, and Sherlock shifted so he was kneeling in front of John- almost over him, with his own legs on the outside of John's, almost hovering over his lap.

The kiss deepened, Sherlock moved his tongue inside of John's. He let their tongues wrestle for dominance, but he didn't put any further. He wanted this, they both wanted this, but he didn't want to rush it. They had all the time in the world.

Or so, he hoped.

[ihadabadday]

John could feel the heat coming off Sherlock's body. The blonde shivered and put his other hand on Sherlock's waist. It was so warm. Warm and comforting.

Sherlock was nearly in his lap and he could feel his body responding. How he didn't constantly walk around with an erection was a miracle. Absolute miracle.

Sherlock was addictive and he wanted. He wanted.... The blonde moaned, tasting Sherlock.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock broke the kiss, leaning back just enough to take in a few large gulps of air. He felt John's obvious arousal against the inner thigh of his trousers. A quick look down confirmed that he was attaining a similar state.

"John..." He breathed. He couldn't call him Merlin, it seemed too wierd, too much. He was John, he would always be John.

His John.


That though scared him, but it was what they both wanted, that much was painfully obvious.

Literally painfully, as his length was aching and straining in his bespoked trousers.

[ihadabadday]

There was that next step... John shuddered and smiled at the other man. That had been something. He pulled the hand from Sherlock's shoulder and reached down, touching his covered groin.

The heat was intense. He wanted to feel more, taste more. John met Sherlock's eyes and smiled almost shyly at him.

"You're a fantastic kisser." He had to admit, he loved how Sherlock had taken control.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock groaned at the light touch. He leaned his body down, letting their bodies rub against each other, feeling one hardness against the other.

"You aren't terrible at it yourself." He said, with a bit of a wicked grin. Before John could respond, Sherlock leaned in, kissing him fully, with nothing held back. Their bodies pressed and rubbed, their tongues danced, two bodies as close to being one as possible while they were still both clothed.

[ihadabadday]

All words vanished when Sherlock kissed him again. Pressed against him. Oh god. His mind blanked and he grabbed ahold of Sherlock. He wanted to ground himself. Rock against him. Feel him.

After a moment, he moved one hand to start to unbutton Sherlock's shirt.

Touch, feel, taste. He wanted to swallow and lick. He wanted to map every part of Sherlock and memorize him.

[seaweed_writes]

The kiss broke again. Sherlock leaned back and gave John access to his chest, letting him undo the buttons. While John was working on his buttons, Sherlock did the same, pulling John's shirt out of his trousers and unbuttoning from the top down, occasionally breaking to lick and nibble at John's neck, leaving soft pink marks that he knew would fade quickly.


"John..." He would never get old of saying the man's name, like a mantra, a prayer.

[ihadabadday]

John pushed Sherlock's stupidly tailored shirt off his thin shoulders and leaned in to nip and lick at his nipples. He wanted to bring Sherlock to the edge. See how he reacted to being kissed, bit, sucked...

"Sherlock... don't stop. Never stop." He begged, "just love me."

He moved one hand to move along Sherlock's back towards the curve of his arse.

[seaweed_writes]

"Never, John. Never." He swore to the man, and he meant it.

He shrugged his shoulders, helping the shirt fall off, letting it pool behind him. He ripped off the last couple of buttons, not paying the least bit of attention to the plinking of the buttons as they skittered across the wooden floor.

Sherlock's head went back when John's warm mouth found his nipples, and he ground down again. His legs were aching, being in this rather awkward position, but he didn't want to move, for fear that the moment would break and everything would become awkward and strange.

[ihadabadday]

John moaned and worked his shirt off, wanting to let Sherlock have the expanse of skin. His hands both moved and cupped that stupidly gorgeous arse. God damn bespoke trousers. They made his arse look good. So very good.

He ran his tongue around that little nub and nipped gently. Very gently. More. He wanted it forever. To feel Sherlock ontop of him. Moving. Taking.

His head spun with pleasure and and... he moaned and nipped a bit harder. He ached in his denim trousers.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock ground down hard, a loud moan escaping his lips. His nipples were hard, every little touch sent a spark of heat up his spine and through his body.

"Bed... We need a bed." Sherlock growled. The fear of awkwardness was still there, but they couldn't continue like this.

Sherlock pressed hard enough against John that it almost knocked him over. He was in the blone man's lap down, his trousers, tight and sporting the tiniest of moist spots where it was tented the most, ground down into John's thigh and hip and stomach as Sherlock rolled his hips.

They needed to get horizontal, and now.. before he came in his pants like a horny teenager.

[ihadabadday]

John was nearly lost with pleasure and want. He wanted to have Sherlock pressing down on him, holding his wrists. Fucking into him. Over and over. He shuddered and nodded. He was only vaguely aware of what Sherlock was saying.

Bed. He pulled off of one nipple and blew on it before tilting his head up. "The faster we move, the faster I can have your cock in my arse."

[seaweed_writes]

Well, that made Sherlock groan yet again, and left little doubt about what was going to happen. At least there was little chance of awkwardness, they were both way too far gone to stop this now.

Reluctantly, Sherlock moved off of John, grunting a bit as his legs complained at the change of position. He stood up, and then offered John his hand, helping him to his feet.

Once John was standing, Sherlock didn't let go of his hand, instead he practically drug the man through the room, down the hallway, and into his bedroom, all but throwing him down on the bed.

"Trousers." He grumbled, already reaching for his own flies.

[ihadabadday]

John let himself be tugged and pulled. He didn't argue. No. Not when there was sex in his future. Sex with Sherlock. He would be lying if he had never noticed the man's unique brand of beauty.

Once in Sherlock's bedroom, he started to work on removing his trousers and the pants that lay under. Soon enough he was nude for Sherlock. Every part of him was open for the man's perusal. He swallowed, but didn't shift to hide. No.

[seaweed_writes]

Somehow, John had been faster than Sherlock when it came to removing his remaining clothing. Sherlock paused with his hands on his pants, his trousers already pooling around his ankles to see John in all of his glory.

By God, he was beautiful. Despite that fact that was an ex- soldier, and over a thousand years old, he was still mostly trim, with just the smallest amount of softness around his middle. He could still see the muscles of his abdomen under the layer of softness.

He licked his lips and groaned. "John." He pulled his pants down and was in the same state as the blonde was.

[ihadabadday]

John stepped out of his trousers and pants. He stared at Sherlock and moved over to the man. He moaned softly and went to his knees in front of him.

Without any hesitation, he leaned in and nuzzled the cloth covered bulge. "I want to taste you, for you to fuck my throat, balls slapping against my chin. I want you to own me body and soul."

He mouthed at the tip through Sherlock's pants. John shuddered and closed his eyes.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock quickly divested himself of his pants and kicked them off to the side, giving John unfettered access to whatever he wanted to touch or suck or lick.

He found it hard to say anything, so he just whispered the man's name again.

"John... yes.." He was rock hard and leaking. It was flushed a deep red, angry and needy for attention. He put his hand through John's hair, encouraging him to do what he wished.

"Please."

[ihadabadday]

He took Sherlock's cock in his mouth and groaned. It was heavy on his tongue and he loved the feeling. With a shiver, he slowly began to move his head up and down. Back and forth. He wanted Sherlock to enjoy this, to revel in the sensation. Fuck.

John was hard and aching and leaking. But he made no move to touch himself, relieve himself. He whined around his mouthful. It was causing his head to pound slightly. The pleasure was... It was intense.

[seaweed_writes]

It took all of his willpower to stop from thrusting into John's mouth. He wasn't particularly thick, but he was a bit longer than average, tall and skinny, like the man who owned it.

His whole body felt like it was on fire. John was a skilled lover, his tongue was finding all of the nooks and crevices that drove Sherlock wild. He could only hope that he would be able to hold off, so he didn't go off too soon. He didn't want any of this to end.

"Nnnnggg..." John had reduced him to simple syllables now, he couldn't even say the man's name. His fingers tightened in John's hair, tugging at him, pulling him closer.