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]

Sherlock only pressed the head in before he paused. The sudden arch and yell startled him, and a sudden fear filled him.

"John!" He said, his voice full of concern. Was he too big? Had he not stretched him enough? John was so tight around him, had he torn something?

"John...." He said again, a question in his name.

[ihadabadday]

"Don't.... Stop. Good..." he managed. He wasn't sure how he was forming words. But he knew if Sherlock stopped, he was going to be very cross with him.

The pressure was intense with just a hint if pain. But it had blossomed into pleasure and god how he loved it. The sensation of Sherlock in him.

He shuddered and clutched at the sheets under him. His cock was hard and leaking across his belly.

[seaweed_writes]

"Never." Sherlock whispered again, leaning down into John's ear to breath the single word.

He was slow and steady, pressing in further and further, until his bollocks pressed against John. Oh God, he was fully seated inside him.

For a few moments, Sherlock stilled, letting John get used to the feeling of being so full before he started to move, oh so slowly at first, setting a steady rhythm. He leaned down and licked and kissed at any part of John that he could get his mouth on, nipples, neck, chest, every bit of exposed skin was fair game.

[ihadabadday]

John lost the ability to think when he felt Sherlock bottom out in him. That long cock buried in him. He trembled and waited. He didn't want it to end too soon. No...

He wanted to be wrapped up in this man forever. Just letting him touch him, kiss him, hold him. He shuddered and finally brought his hands up to touch Sherlock's shoulders.

John smoothed his hands over Sherlock's shoulders and arms as he felt the man kiss him all over. He wasn't going to want to do much of anything after this. Oh...

"Move... Please..." he begged.

[seaweed_writes]

"Ahhhhh.. John...." It was sheer ecstasy, being inside, feeling him around him. Even if Sherlock had wanted to stay still, there was no way that he could have.

As much as he tried to move slowly, all of the buildup to this moment meant that he was already close to the edge... He wanted to keep this going as long as possible.

Sherlock gripped John's hips tight, hard enough to leave bruises, but neither of them cared at this moment.

He sped up his thrusts, a fine sheen of sweat on his brow.. He couldn't even form words any more, he could only groan and grunt, showing his feelings physically that he couldn't speak any more.

[ihadabadday]

He could only focus on the pinpoints of pleasure that came from the penetration and Sherlock gripping him so hard. Oh he loved it, wanted it, ached and ached.

The fact that they were here now. God. What a feeling...

And then he started thrusting and John cried out. He squirmed the best he could in Sherlock's hold, trying to push down. More. More...

[seaweed_writes]

He tried, tried so hard, but he couldn't hold himself back. Soon, Sherlock found himself pounding into John, grunting softly each time he bottomed out into his lover.

Hard and fast he filled the soldier, each thrust bringing him closer and closer to the edge. When he was just on the precipice, he reached down and gripped at John's length, using the left over lube that was on his hands to keep the strokes smooth and quick.


"Ahhh.. J-j-ohn... Nnngggg.." It was the only warning that Sherlock gave before he thrust once, hard enough to shift them both on the bed, then he was coming, deep and hot, rolling his hips with each pulse of his seed.

[ihadabadday]

He felt like he had been folded in half with how Sherlock was holding him, fucking into him. John just... He wanted it. To be owned so completely.

He nearly came apart when Sherlock grasped bis cock and stroked. He jerked and shouted. He was nearly there. So close. He could feel it. Building. Building. He sobbed and clawed at Sherlock's shoulders.

He felt Sherlock coming inside him. Nothing between them. Just the sensation of that hot seed being deposited into his body. And a thought came over him. If it was possible, Sherlock would get him pregnant.

He shouted as he climaxed, to that thought and the feeling of his lover so deep inside him. But it wasn't enough. More. He needed Sherlock deeper.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock pounded John through his orgasm, only partially aware that his lover was coming apart underneath him. He could feel the warm liquid on his fingers, dripping down his hand to his wrist, but it almost felt like an out of body experience- which was an odd sensation due to all the weird visions he had been having over the last few days.

It seems to last a lifetime.. but slowly.. Sherlock started to come back to himself, and his orgasm faded... His movements slowed to to a soft roll of the hips and long low sounds of pleasure as he milked as much as he could out of himself and into John.

His hand started to slow as well, his body shaking, his breath quick and ragged.

[ihadabadday]

It was... Overwhelming. The sensation of being with Sherlock like this, his body clamping down around the intrusion. Feeling his lover's hand on his cock. Everything had narrowed down to that point as Sherlock worked him through his orgasm.

He shuddered and gave a small moan. It felt like too much. But he didn't want it to stop. No. Never stop. He wanted to be wrapped in Sherlock forever. Forever.

He clung to the man as everything finally stopped and settled.

[seaweed_writes]

For a time, there was nothing but the panting of breaths and the soft sounds of London outside the window.

Sherlock waited as long as he could, but eventually he was softening, so he pulled out with a soft sigh, taking a small dribble of a mix of lube and come with him. He got up, went into the loo, cleaned himself up a bit, them put warm water on a flannel and came back in.

"John. Roll over so I can clean you." He was gentle with his touch, knowing that John would be quite sensitive. He wiped the man down gently, then threw the flannel in the laundry bin.

He was quiet again. observing his friend.. but now something more.

[ihadabadday]

John gave a strangled moan as Sherlock pulled out. Part of him wanted to keep the man in him forever, just feeling that cock in him. He just seemed boneless, enjoying the aftermath of some fantastic sex.

Sherlock was talking. He was vaguely aware of being asked to roll over. So he did. John was feeling a bit knackered, but wanted to try and stay awake.

Once Sherlock was done cleaning him off, he rolled onto his side and closed his eyes.

[seaweed_writes]

Gently, tenderly, Sherlock ran his hand through John's hair. They still had a lot to talk about, and Sherlock still had dozens of questions, but they could wait. Between explaining about Merlin and Arthur, and thier tumble into bed, it was almost morning.

"Sleep, John." He whispered into the man's ear, still gently petting John's hair. He wasn't tired, and he was fascinated by the idea of watching the man sleep. He had seen him asleep before, but never like this.

Never this intimate.

Sherlock continued to gently rub at John's hair until his breathing evened out and he was asleep. He pulled his hand away and watched, observed, marveled at the man in front of him.

[ihadabadday]

John couldn't really reply before he was drawn into sleep. The tension bled out of him and looked so relaxed in Sherlock's bed.

He shifted a bit before cuddling further into the soft mattress. Knowing that Sherlock was here... It helped. It relaxed him. There were no nightmares. Just peace.

He slept until close to eleven in the morning, groaning as he started to come around.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock spent the time moving between observing John, and opening a new wing in his Mind Palace, one devoted to himself and John, with an offshoot room for Arthur and Merlin.

He was still the entire time, knowing that shifting around on the bed would wake John, and the man needed his sleep.

When he started to stir, Sherlock's hand immediately went back to his hair, not enough to really wake him, but enough that as he woke, he would feel the connection between them.

He was quiet, giving John as much time as he needed to wake from his restful slumber. Sherlock had been calculating how long he spent in REM sleep, so he knew that it had indeed been deep and restful.

[ihadabadday]

He opened his eyes and the memories of last night came flooding back. Oh.

It hadn't been a dream. John slowly sat up and shifted closer to Sherlock. He kissed the man before pulling back to get out of bed.

He went into the loo to take care of his business and wash his face. His arse was a little sore, but nothing he couldn't live with.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock tensed when he saw the realization dawn on John's face. For a single, terrifying moment, he was afraid that John regretted what happened.

Until that was, he leaned in and kissed him.

It lasted way too little time, in Sherlock's opinion, before John leaned away and got up.

He couldn't help but smile when he saw John walk just a little bit tenderly. The lizard brain of his was proud that he had caused that.

He was quiet and still, still sitting exactly where he was, waiting for John to finish. He was still nervous about the conversation that needed to happen- as Englishmen, of course they were shite about talking about feelings, but it was inevitable, it had to happen eventually.

Better to get it over with sooner rather than later.

[ihadabadday]

John came back into the bedroom and smiled at Sherlock.

"You look rather nervous. D... Do you regret what happened?" He asked.

He didn't want Sherlock to regret it. The mere idea made his stomach clench and he... He didn't know what he would do. He bbn couldn't loose Sherlock. He cared for the man immensely.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock smiled softly and shook his head. "No." He said simply. "Not at all." His smile faded. "You?" John had kissed him, but there was still a nagging doubt in his head. This was so much to deal with at once, it was all coming at him fast.

[ihadabadday]

John shook his head. "No. Not in the least." He answered with a smile.

He didn't. He couldn't. No. It had always been Sherlock.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock let out a little sigh. He knew it was the case, but for whatever reason, he just had to hear the words from John's own mouth.

"Alright." He said simply, looking down, suddenly feeling self conscious, and he wasn't even sure why.

"I... suppose... we should speak with Greg." He said, after a short pause. "I wonder how he will take learning about me."

[ihadabadday]

John looked at him. "Probably a mix of shock and awe." He laughed, "Which is usually par for the course."

He was stupidly, incredibly happy. He and Sherlock... John just smiled and kissed him.

"You're remarkable." He said before pulling away to find clothes.

[seaweed_writes]

As much as Sherlock would have liked to have what John called a "lie in", which was what the man had done in the past the days he was not scheduled at the clinic, he knew that they really needed to start their day. It was already close to noon, and so far he had languished in bed all day. He loved watching John, but his body was itching to get out and do something.

"We should call him over." Sherlock had to admit that he wanted to see Greg's reaction, and he also wondered how he would react to the man now that he knew what he did. Would thier relationship change? Not like his and John's of course. He had never held those sort of feelings for the man. He was more the big brother he would have chosen instead of Mycroft.

Speaking of Fatcroft...

"You said you hadn't found any others, other than Graham and myself." He said, watching John dress with a bit of disappointment. "You don't suppose that my brother, or Molly could be members, do you?" He couldn't see his brother doing any sort of legwork, but so far both of the other members had been connected to him, and he had few friends- certainly not the 11 that would make up this ancient Round Table.

[ihadabadday]

John picked up his phone and shot a text over to Greg.

'Emergency, please come over ASAP.'

He set it down once more and smiled at Sherlock. "Done." Honestly, he wasn't sure how things would change between Sherlock and Greg. He wasn't sure how things changed between him and Greg. It felt like such a mess. But they would carry on and forward.

He paused as he was about to pull on a shirt. "They could be. I haven't spent too much time around them. But it's very probable. "

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock could deduce what John had done, which made him smirk. "He's not going to like being lied to, like the boy who cried wolf." Yes, he had deleted a lot of things from his 'hard drive', but he'd always liked that story for some reason.

"How are you going to determine if they are a part of the round table?" Sherlock asked, while getting dressed himself. He chose dark slacks and a purple shirt, forgoing pants.

He really didn't want either of them to be a part of this, he had no idea how dangerous it would be, but of course despite being the reincarnation of Arthur he had no choice in the matter who was whom.