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]

John was entirely too coherent at the moment, Sherlock thought. But there were ways to fix that.

One hand went to his balls, where he started to massage them in small circles. The other went to the base of John's cock. He wrapped his hands around the very bottom, so he could stroke lightly, but also hold it tight, like a cock, ring, so he wouldn't go off too soon.

When his hands were set, he moved his mouth again. His tongue played around the hole, teasing the pucker, then finally, finally pushing in slightly. He sadly couldn't go far, he hadn't been blessed with a particularly long tongue, but it was enough to explore inside the first ring of muscle and all the nerves that came with it.

[ihadabadday]

He shouted and jerked and bucked. Oh god! Fuck! He swore and grabbed at Sherlock's hair. It didn't matter if he didn't have a long tongue, what he was able to reach... John sobbed and squirmed.

Fuck.

Oh fuck.

He was wrecked. Sherlock had wrecked him.

[seaweed_writes]

There was something primal, something animal about having your hair pulled. Before John, only one person had ever done it, that had been a one night stand (he'd had plenty of those) and he hadn't known that he'd liked it until the man did it, it had made him come with the first tug.

This time, he wasn't so far gone that he was going to climax right now, he was too focused on John at the moment.

He held the base of John's cock tight, intent on making the man beg for release. As long as Sherlock kept a good hold, it should stop him from coming. He'd done the research, on himself, finding just the right amount of pressure, and he applied the same to John.

While his hand gripped, his tongue explored, one moment pushing in as far as he was able to, the next outside of the hole and licking at the nerve filled rim,. then back in again, setting a bit of a rhythm to it.

[ihadabadday]

Oh. God. Fuck.

Those words ran on a continual loop in his head.

Oh god. Oh god. Fuck.

He sobbed and squirmed. He pushed his hips down between that far too talented tongue and the hand holding his cock tight. John wanted... He wanted more.

"Please..." he begged, "Please..."

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock grinned. He loved to see John come apart.
He leaned back just far enough to speak, his breath still hot on the man's skin.
"Please... what John? You need to be a lot more specific than that."

The moment he finished speaking, he plunged his tongue deep back into John, before the man could even try to respond. He wanted to hear John beg and plead for release.

[ihadabadday]

John shouted and sobbed before he could find or register words to respond to Sherlock. He tightened his hands in that hair and tugged.

He sobbed. Oh god.

"Oh please Sherlock. Fuck me. Please. Please. I want to come..."

[seaweed_writes]

"Nnnnnngg.." Sherlock groaned when John pulled on his hair harder, his tongue still inside of John, the vibrations sending a new sensation to his lover.

He had to back out again to speak. "How?" He asked simply. He wasn't sure if John could come simply by him using his tongue, or whether he wanted Sherlock actually inside of him. "I have loosened you a little, but I would still have to stretch you.." he warned. There was no way he could take John as he was now, even though the tongue had loosened him a bit, it wasn't enough for his cock to go in without more stretching, he would need a couple of fingers at least..

[ihadabadday]

He sobbed when he felt those vibrations. Oh... John was so hard, he wanted Sherlock inside him, wanting to feel his lover moving in him.

"P... please. In me. Please." He begged, "up... Upstairs. Ring..." he had some toys up in his room, and there was a cockring that snapped among them.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock couldn't help but growl once more while his tongue was inside of John before he pulled away again, gave John one more lick up from his hole, up his perineum and balls, and stopping where his hand was around John's cock.

"Oh, holding out on me now, are you?" He grinned, still holding John. "Well, it won't be hard to find your... toy box I am sure." he finally let go of John, got up and off the bed, and padded off, out of the bedroom, down the hallway, and up the stairs.

As he predicted, he had no trouble finding the box. He took his time, taking a few minutes to look at the.. surprisingly extensive collection that John had. He grabbed a cock ring, some extra lube, and one more small toy, then went back down, walking at an even pace. He wanted to give John a few moments to come back from the edge and calm a bit.

He took a detour to the loo, where he washed his mouth out with mouthwash, so John wouldn't feel weird kissing him. He wasn't sure how John felt about it, it was a conversation for another day.

He came back in, put the three items on the bedside table, and looked at John. He hadn't come yet, but he already looked so thoroughly wrecked.

[ihadabadday]

John's entire body was flushed and he was shifting on the bed, his hard cock bobbing as he did. The man sobbed and finally opened his eyes.

He looked at Sherlock, his lips parting. He looked like... like... sex personified. He was gorgeous.

And when had he left?

John whined and spread his legs. "Oh please..."

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock took the cock ring and attached it to John before he did anything else. It wouldn't give him any relief, but at least he wouldn't just go off like a rocket.

"I will, John. I will." He promised. He leaned down and gave John a long, languishing kiss, one that had the lingering taste of mint mouthwash. His hand wandered over his chest and arms and neck, anywhere he could reach, to connect to John, to touch him.

He knew he could do this all day, but John needed release, so after one last kiss, he moved down to kneel over John.

"Do you want yo be on your stomach or on your back?" He asked.

[ihadabadday]

The kiss was grounding and he relaxed into it with a small smile. John looked up at him, still trembling. That cock ring was also a grounding point, bringing him back from that continual edge.

He swallowed and shifted a bit. "Sherlock..." how did he want to be? How...?

"Stomach." John answered.

[seaweed_writes]

"Okay then. Roll over onto your stomach." Sherlock said softly. He liked both positions for different reasons. On his back Sherlock could see John's eyes and kiss him and watch him come apart.

But when it came to sheer pleasure, for the both of them, the stomach was much more desirable. He could penetrate deeper and find the position to rub against his prostate with every thrust. It usually took a little adjusting his angle, but he could find it, and when he did, it set John off, which of course set Sherlock off as well.

"On you go." he said, watching John roll onto his stomach. And while he did, he took the lube and started to stroke himself softly, making sure not to get himself too aroused yet. He was rock hard and aching, but he knew he could hold off, he wasn't nearly as far gone as John.

[ihadabadday]

He whimpered and swallowed. Dear fucking god. John ached and wanted. He rolled onto his stomach and rocked his hips against the pillow that was under them. The sensation against his cock causing him to sob.

John wanted Sherlock to touch him, feel him, claim him. He wanted it. Wanted it all. And never wanted it to stop. Ever. He hiccuped and shifted. God. Oh fucking god yes.

"Please." He begged again uselessly.

[seaweed_writes]

He could never get used to John, so strong and capable, being the same man that Sherlock knew how to turn into a beautiful begging mess when it came to the bedroom. It never ceased to amaze him that he was capable of this- and it would only ever be him.

Or would it? If he really was Merlin (and Sherlock believed that he was) had he had other lovers in the past. If he was immortal, would Sherlock die and John live on to love someone else?

He shook those thoughts out of his head. He couldn't let doubt or jealousy get the better of him now.. He had John and John had him and it was enough for now, it seemed.

Sherlock took another squirt of lube and warned it in his hands for a moment, then gently started to massage around John's entrance, trying to banish those blasphemous thoughts from his head.

[ihadabadday]

John just ached. He pleaded and begged. He wanted this. Wanted Sherlock. He wanted to feel the man push into him, claim him. He shuddered and gave a moan.

Sherlock was his world, his friend, his lover. In such a short time, he had become so much, and that was before he discovered that the man was Arthur. But those were thoughts for another time.

He gasp came from him as he felt those fingers around his entrance. Touching. Stroking. The idea that soon those long fingers would push into him, claim him...

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock didn't want to torture John or make him wait any longer. He pressed a well lubed finger in, Slowly at first, not to tease but to get him used to the feel. Slowly, slowly he pushed his way in until he was bottomed out. He started into a slow rhythm, every time he pushed in he tried a slightly different angle until he..

Oh.. there is was.. he found it.. the little bundle of nerves that he knew that would make John's pleasure spike.

He added a second finger, scissoring them apart so he could hit the prostate with each thrust, but still work him open. He was almost ready now..

[ihadabadday]

That single finger wasn't enough. No. John sobbed and begged. He would have come if it wasn't for the ring. He clutched at the blankets under him, begging Sherlock for more. More.

But oh. Glorious then. That finger found his prostate. He gave a yelp and then pushed his hips back towards that finger. They only had sex the once before, but this time... It was glorious. So good. Everything he wanted.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock splayed his fingers as wide as he could inside of John, stretching him wide and teasing his prostate with his long, slender fingers.

When he was convinced that John was ready, he pulled his fingers out and wiped the off on one of the discarded shirts, then grabbed the lube again,. He gave himself another few strokes, spreading the lube around well.

"Are you ready John?" He asked, while reaching around and pulling the cock ring off. He doubted it would take long for either of them, but right now, there had been so much build up, that he was fine with that. There was time for slow and steady another day.

[ihadabadday]

Those fingers. Oh those fingers. He shuddered and then whined when they were pulled out. Not fair no... But he heard the lube open and he knew. Sherlock was going to push into him. He shuddered. Oh god.

"Yes..." John gasped, "Yes, please. Fuck me." He begged.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock saw how tense John got when he pulled out his fingers. "Trust me, my wizard." He whispered in the man's ear.

He couldn't help but smile when he heard John beg Of course there was a feeling of power that came from it, something deep inside of him, perhaps a bit of the King trying to show itself.

"I'll take care of you, Galdre." Sherlock hadn't even known that he knew the word, but he understood it was the old English term for 'wizard', and the nickname that Arthur had for Merlin so many hundreds of years ago.

"I hast thou." Sherlock whispered as he took himself in hand and pressed in lightly, only pressing his head inside at first.

"Ic broforscipe ou." The words came out as a tiny whisper in a language that Sherlock didn't have any knowledge of himself.

[ihadabadday]

He shuddered at the words, the weight of him.

But then... Oh. Oh god. That single word. It had so much weight. And there was no way that Sherlock would just randomly use it. No. That was Arthur, his King. He opened his eyes and stared up at the man, his own eyes gold. An indicator of magic in the area. Whether it was his, or something coming from Sherlock.

"For ðâm ðe yfel lufr¯æden êow..." He replied. Oh he did love Sherlock. Arthur. The one in the same. Oh how his heart had hurt for years and years. But now here he was.

John gasped and pushed down as he felt the head push into him. Oh yes. God yes.

[seaweed_writes]

Even through the haze of pleasure, he saw the flash of gold in his eyes. He wasn't sure what it meant, but he had seen it happen when John had shown his magic before, so he was sure it had something to do with that, but John wasn't using magic now.

Or at least he didn't seem to be.

Sherlock filed that way, yet another thing to ask about later.

But for now....

"Fæger..." He groaned as he started to press in. "Fulfremed."

Sherlock let the weight of the words between them, in a language long dead, settle between them as he started to move inside of John, ever so slowly, getting the man used to the feel of him being inside.

This relationship was new, and there were so many things to explore, and yet it was as ancient as the hills, or even more so.

Sherlock grunted quietly when he bottomed out inside of John, staying still to let the burn fade into something more pleasurable. "Ahhhh.."

[ihadabadday]

John cried out when he felt Sherlock bottom out. Oh god. He clung to the man, letting the words flow over him. Oh... God.

He grabbed Sherlock and held onto, whispering words into his ear. Words of endearment. He loved him, he cherished him, respected him... Sherlock, Arthur, was his everything. Everything he had done was for the man.

John shuddered and pushed his hips down, back. Yes. More. More.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock shut his eyes as John whispered to him. It was a strange mix of Old English and modern English. He didn't even try to think about how his brain understood the words that his ancient lover said to him.

When John moved his hips, that was Sherlock's cue to start moving. He pulled back until only his head remained, then pushed in, harder and faster than the first time. He pulled back and snapped his hips forward again, increasing in speed and pressure. He held onto John's hips hard enough to bruise.

"John... my Merlin... Nnngg..." He grunted through his thrusts, a fine sheen starting to ghost the edge of his hairline.