A Righteous Return - AU - Locked to
seaweed_writes
Jan. 7th, 2019 09:25 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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.
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.
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Date: 2019-02-18 12:37 am (UTC)He was still inside the man, his cock quickly softening when there was a loud knock at the door.
"Bloody buggering fuck." There was no way whoever was there couldn't have heard something, they had literally just finished.
And even worse, there was no way not to make the entire place not look and smell like sex.
But hey, atleast it killed the last of his erection in one quick move.
Sherlock gently but firmly pulled out, and pushed John off his lap and to the side. He stood up and tied his robe back around himself, then threw one of Mrs Hudson's knitted Afghan throws over John's lap. She was going to kill them both if she ever found out they got thier essences all over it.
He grabbed his wallet and opened the door, quickly paying the somewhat stunned looking man, and giving him a huge tip, hoping it would keep him quiet. A moment later, he closed the door again and turned back to John, food in hand and a terrible smile on his face.
"Well." He said, still slightly breathless. "That was... interesting."
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Date: 2019-02-18 01:28 am (UTC)Oh dear god. No doubt the deliveryman heard them climaxing. And it was hilarious.
All he could do was smile at Sherlock as he turned back with the food. "It certainly was. Get over here and lets eat."
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Date: 2019-02-18 01:35 am (UTC)Sherlock put the food down on the low coffee table in front of the couch, then went to the kitchen to retrieve a couple of glasses of water, some plates, silverware, and napkins. He brought them all (carefully) back in and set out getting the food plated, all while watching John, who was still trying to control the occasional giggle.
In all the movement, Sherlock's now also defiled dressing gown had opened, revealing a soft cock and a mix of both of their come on his body, but he shrugged. Now was the time to eat. Even if they wanted to, they had refractory periods to think about.
"Budge over." Sherlock shoved John playfully, then picked up his plate and went to work. Usually it was a chore getting him to eat, but with all of the... extra curricular activities that they had been doing, he'd worked up an appetite.
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Date: 2019-02-18 01:54 am (UTC)Once Sherlock returned, he shifted over, smiling. "You look absolutely defiled." He grinned at the man as he folded the afghan into a nice pile and tucked it to the side.
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Date: 2019-02-18 02:01 am (UTC)"I'm going to need a very long, very hot shower after this." He admitted, through bites of his Yellow Curry Chicken. He could have closed his gown as well, but chose not to, preferring the look on John's face when he saw himself all over him.
"You are going to be quite sore in the morning, I am afraid." Sherlock said, once again not sounding sorry in the least that he'd been buggered twice in a day.
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Date: 2019-02-18 02:04 am (UTC)"You're welcome." He laughed, "You quite enjoyed buggering me to completion."
He took another bite and then shrugged. "I've had worse pain, and hell, I'd let you bugger me all day long if it meant keeping us inside."
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Date: 2019-02-18 02:14 am (UTC)To repay him, Sherlock used his chopsticks to steal a piece of John's chicken as well. He hadn't tried it before, but he made an almost sinful noise as he chewed and swallowed it. It was exquisite. He made a note to order that next time.
And you enjoyed being buggered over the table and on the couch. We are going to defile this entire flat if we keep going like this." He chuckled and went back to his curry. "Don't think that the idea of buggering you on every single surface of his flat is not appealing, or bending you over all day."
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Date: 2019-02-18 02:17 am (UTC)John laughed when Sherlock stole a piece of his chicken. He honestly didn't mind. He was glad that Sherlock was eating.
"I did. Quite a lot. I would like you to tie me to our bed and bugger me with toys, your fingers, tongue, cock..." He said casually, "Until all I can do is spread my legs for your pleasure."
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Date: 2019-02-18 02:29 am (UTC)"I think we might need to take a short raincheck for those things. But be warned, John. I WILL remember, and I WILL be returning to this conversation another time."
He was quiet for a few moments, before he dropped a bomb of his own. "And what if I said that I wanted you to do the same to me?"
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Date: 2019-02-18 02:48 am (UTC)"I will cash that raincheck for you anytime." John told Sherlock.
He paused and then smiled. "Then I will do it. I promise."
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Date: 2019-02-18 02:53 am (UTC)That made him shift again.
"I don't want to make you, if you don't want to, John." He knew John liked to let Sherlock take control. "Don't do it because I want you to, do it because you want to."
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Date: 2019-02-18 02:55 am (UTC)John reached out and cupped his cheek. "I love you and want to make you happy."
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Date: 2019-02-18 03:03 am (UTC)But his heart skipped when John said those three little words. This was so new for both of them. And it wasn't that Sherlock didn't care for him, and love him, but it was harder for him to say those little words.
"John.." He said softly. It was all he could say and he was quiet for a moment before he repeated the word. "John." What was it about this man that drove him to speechlessness? No one else in his life could render him speechless like John cold in three little words.
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Date: 2019-02-18 03:07 am (UTC)John pulled back and then continued to eat his food.
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Date: 2019-02-18 03:12 am (UTC)The rest of the meal was mostly a companionable silence. Sherlock made a couple of smartarse comments about the documentary that had still been playing even though they hadn't been watching it.
Sherlock finished first, and he sat quietly while waiting for John to finish. When he was done, he took the plates in and washed them off, then went into the bedroom and threw the soiled dressing gown in the hamper. He walked naked into the loo and started the shower, stepping in and sighing happily at the hot water hitting his sore muscles.
"Ahhhh."
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Date: 2019-02-18 03:34 am (UTC)He went into their room and stripped off his clothes. He placed them in the hamper and went to join Sherlock in the shower.
Wrapping his arms around the man's waist, he pressed himself against him. Not sexually, just wanting to be close to the man.
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Date: 2019-02-18 03:41 am (UTC)There was some kissing, and a little soft groping, but nothing overly sexual, more exploratory. They took turns washing each other. Sherlock groaned when John massaged the shampoo into his hair, his hair and scalp had always been quite sensitive, for better or worse.
When they were done, Sherlock toweled off John, taking his time to get very part of him, then let John towel him. He took his hand and led him back into the bedroom, giving him another kiss as they started to settle under the covers.
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Date: 2019-02-18 04:02 am (UTC)A knight perhaps.
Or something more.
Perhaps the dragon? He hoped it wasn't Morgana. But he had to do this without Sherlock.
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Date: 2019-02-18 04:22 am (UTC)But something was coming and now was the time to let down the disguise
He walked out of the alleyway, a couple of blocks from where Merlin was walking, and walked in a pattern to intercept John.
The watcher was even more ancient than Merlin, and had been guarding and watching over the man in the guise of Mike Stamford since Merlin came back from Afghanistan. It was time to reveal his full form.
"Oi, John! fancy seeing you here!" Mike said, for now still using his shielding magic to cover his true form. He would drop it soon enough.
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Date: 2019-02-18 04:26 am (UTC)He paused when he saw Mike Stamford come across him. Odd.
"Mike. How good to see you..." He said with an arched eyebrow. In the middle of the night? Odd.
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Date: 2019-02-18 04:31 am (UTC)"I know an all night cafe. Wanna join me for a coffee? My treat!" The owner of the bar was another immortal dragon, and there was a back room where they could speak in perfect privacy. A sound spell kept anyone at all from hearing what was going on. That was the reason it was open both day and night, it catered to the very few old and immortal beings who needed to congregate from time to time.
And they made a very good latte, to boot.
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Date: 2019-02-18 04:44 am (UTC)He walked with Mike to the cafe, mind racing. There was something going on in London. He hated it. He hated the idea of not knowing. He wanted to protect Sherlock and London.
He sighed and rubbed his face as he followed Mike.
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Date: 2019-02-18 04:53 am (UTC)They made some small talk until they reached the cafe. The owner looked like a typical middle aged Londoner, a bit stocky around the middle, and a retreating widow's peak of hair. But he was using the same magic to cover who he really was.
His eyes went slightly wide when he saw Mike walk in with John. He knew who John REALLY was, and realized what was most likely about to happen.
:"Ah, Mike. Yer usual table?" The man asked in a rather thick Cockney accent.
"Yes please. Thanks, Sean. And two large lattes, please." The two drinks were served up a few moments later, then Mike led them to what looked like the door to a closet. Sean had a spell on it that only he or the other immortals could open it. It also worked as a safe room if needed.
Mike opened the door to a small room with a few tables and chairs some shelves with provisions, including food and toiletries on it, and another door in the back.
"Take a seat, please. We have some things to talk about." Mike closed the door (which magically sealed behind him) and then sat down.
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Date: 2019-02-18 05:02 am (UTC)"Are you just wearing my friend's skin?" He asked coldly.
John had his hand behind his back, gathering a spell in it.
He didn't trust a lot of people and he had trusted Mike Stamford. If this wasn't Mike and just someone wearing his face, he was going to bring this place down around their heads.
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Date: 2019-02-18 05:10 am (UTC)"I can assure you that I am not wearing anyone's skin but my own." Well, it wasn't a total lie. He had been Mike Stamford for many, many years now, he wasn't imitating anyone, but he wasn't showing his TRUE skin, either.
"You know, I could ask the same of you, Merlin the Magician." He said, still as Mike, though the accent was dropping slightly.
"Ic i becnāwe hwa unc fristmearc." He said, in old English.
"I can assure you that I am not wearing anyone's skin but my own." Well, it wasn't a total lie. He had been Mike Stamford for many, many years now, he wasn't imitating anyone, but he wasn't showing his TRUE skin, either.
"You know, I could ask the same of you, Merlin the Magician." He said, still as Mike, though the accent was dropping slightly.
"Ic i becnāwe hwa unc fristmearc." He said, in old English. <I know who you are.>
He made sure the entire time that he smiled, and showed that he was no threat, as he spoke, he continued to sip on his latte.
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