ihadabadday | The Black Book - AU - Locked to seaweed

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The Black Book - AU - Locked to seaweed_writes

He was lucky with his expertise he was able to find a job relatively quickly in a field he was familiar with. John looked down at his mobile as the alert came through. Christ. It was going to take him at least twenty minutes, if he was lucky, to get to the scene. But, he packed his things into the case and headed out.

He had been in Afghanistan for five years. First as a medic, then a doctor, and finally a hunter. He still was a doctor, but he had been assigned to an elite unit in the desert. Part of him felt a bit odd about all of it. But he didn't quite mind.

He made sure he had everything before he left.

He heard the annoyed voices, before he saw anyone as he entered the room.

"Oi. Who're you?" A man with two days of stubble and mussed black hair asked.

John paused and looked him over before his eyes landed on the gentleman in the suit with salt and pepper hair. There he was. "DI Lestrade? I'm Doctor John Watson, the new Occult Specialist, I just started last month." He gave him a smile, wanting to be nice, but not too friendly. People got jumpy around the occult. He saw it all the time in Afghanistan, and even here in London.

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"I know. I'm sorry." Sherlock shook his head and started to dress himself as well, being careful not to move the dildo any more than he had to, but of course that mostly backfired, and he ended up pulling up his pants and trousers with a raging hard on.

"I can't wait to see what my treat may be." He joked, with a little wink. "I'll be sure to be good until then. Or.. do you want me to be bad?" SHerlock chuckled.

John chuckled and then slapped his arse, right over where the dildo was embedded in him.

"Be as good or as bad as you want..." he grinned. He pressed on the dildo, moving it in a bit further.

"AHHHH!!!!" Sherlock cried out at the slap. Between the stinging pain of the slap and the quick movement of the dildo in and out, he was honestly surprise that he didn't come right there and then.

Of course John teasing him further was just making it worse.

"JOhhhhnnnnn...." He whimpered loudly, not even caring that he sounded desperate and pathetic. He needed to will this horrible hard on away.. or he needed to get rid of it another way, though there really wasn't time for that, sadly.

John grinned and moved to unbutton Sherlock's trousers and take his cock out. "Can't have you messing up your trousers..."

He ran his hand over Sherlock's still covered arse before slapping it again. And again. Making sure to hit over the dildo.

"Such a pretty pet." He said with praise.

"Nnnngg..." Sherlock groaned when John pulled his length out.

"AAhhhhh... J-j-j-ohhnnnnn!!!" His cock twitched,leaking pre with each slap to his arse, the pleasure and pain and aching need all rolled together.

"H-h-hurry... p-p-please...." He pleaded.

John began to stroke him as he kept slapping his arse. His gorgeous round arse.

"Look at your plush arse. It always seems to be begging for a cock sunk into it." He leaned in and licked a stripe up one arse cheek.

He tasted so good. So very good. He kept stroking his mate's cock as the slaps continued.

"MMmmfff.. Johhhhnnnn.." His voice was low and growly and more than a little desperate. He arched up and humped at the air, his whole body was rigid.
"Y-y-es... John.." He begged. Your cock, a dildo, any cock.."

He rocked harder and faster.. "S-s-so.. c-c-lose... m-m-ore..:

"Come for me good boy..." he purred.

He slapped Sherlock's arse again. And again. He loved the red that it was turning. And the faint remains of his handprints.

John could feel himself grow hard, but he ignored it.

"Nnnnn... Johhhnn... JOOOHHHNNN!!!" Sherlock threw his head back and screamed to the ceiling. His body tensed, his cock twitched, and with a guttural cry he was coming, in thick hot ropes all over John's hand and wrist.

He moaned and thrust and rode through the orgasm, panting as he started to slow, and then with one last little pulse, he was done.. He leaned hard on John's shoulder, trying to catch his breath, still riding that last little bit of the high.

John kissed his back. "Good boy." He whispered, "Now get dressed and go pick up William."

He pulled back and went to get a warm, wet flannel to clean himself up.

Sherlock was still panting when he leaned away from John. "W-what about you?" He asked as John got up to get the wet flannel. It was obvious that John had been enjoying it as well, but time was starting to run low.

"I'll have you make it up to me later." He promised as he wiped his hand and wrist down.

And he did intend to have Sherlock make it up to him.

He dressed and went out into the kitchen to get dinner together.

"I will. " He chuckled while John dressed. He cleaned himself up and then re-dressed, being careful of the dildo that was still in his arse.

"Be careful in the kitchen." He said, kissing John deeply, then gathering his hooded coat and gloves to go get William.

Since he was only half Vampire, William could spend more time in the sun than his father could, though he still had to be careful, and he mostly stuck to hoodies and shady trees when they had recess outside.

With a wave of his hand, Sherlock was gone, in an interestingly bumpy taxi ride to go pick up William, and an equally bumpy ride back where he had to keep his legs crossed to avoid being quite embarrassed.

Perhaps, he thought, as they headed back to 221B, this hadn't been the best of ideas. Maybe he hadn't thought it through well enough.

Things got a bit crazy after that.

The little family got moved into the new house and settled into their new routines.

John was rapidly approaching his eighth month of pregnancy. His mother was around more, and even Mycroft came around more.

He was browsing pet adoptions. Maybe once Elizabeth and Thomas were born...

Time flew and crawled at the same time. Inbetween trying to make sure that John wasn't overexerting himself and getting William to and from school, fed, homework done, story read and into bed, they somehow found time to move into a new house.

William loved it. His room was gigantic compared to John's old room upstairs at 221B. The walls had been painted blue with white fluffy clouds drifting towards the ceiling.

The babies would eventually have the two rooms on either side of him once they were a bit older, but they were going to start in the master bedroom, just like William had.

John was huge now, and he couldn't move all that well. His bladder was tiny and his back and feet ached a lot. Sherlock helped how he could, but mostly he helplessly listened while John became more and more frustrated at what he could no longer do.

But he was just over a week away from 8 months, and that in and of itself was a little miracle.

John was looking at his laptop when Sherlock came into bed. "William's asleep, the house is locked down for the night. Do you need a foot rub, John?" It wasn't every night, but sometimes it helped John sleep.

John had been having some slightly worse back pains than usual, which could mean something or it might mean nothing. With this pregnancy, there were so many unknowns.

John was about to answer when he doubled over in pain.

He grabbed onto his mate's hand and squeezed it tightly.

"I... The babies." He gasped.

In a heartbeat Sherlock was on his feet, his heart beating a drum in his chest.

"Shit." He said, looking around for his phone.

"We have to get your mother here, to look after William. We need to get to the healer. How bad was the pain, was it the first one? If not how far apart are the pains?" Sherlock rambled while simultaneously trying to get dressed and trying to find where he put his phone, which caused him to fall over in an ungraceful heap on the floor, his trousers around his ankles.

John blinked and stared at his mate. He grabbed his phone and sent his mother a text before getting off the bed slowly. "Mum is on her way, our hospital bag is packed." He informed Sherlock.

"The contractions are three minutes apart, but rapidly decreasing." He rubbed his face.

"Fuck.. three minutes... That isn't long. " He gets himself out of his tangle of trousers, stands up, and gets properly dressed just in time to hear a loud knock at their bedroom door.

She'd portaled in, of course.

He threw on a t-shirt, still no socks and shoes, and opened the door. "William is asleep. We need a portal to the healer. He's three minutes apart and we need to get him there now.

"Well hello to you too." She quipped, apparently still a bit grumpy at being woken up. But she nodded and created a portal.

"Take good care of my son, and my grandchilden." To anyone else it would have sounded like a statement, but Sherlock heard the underlying threat in it.

Like he had any say in what happened with the birth, he thought to himself, or that he wouldn't want the best for his children. But he wisely kept his mouth shut. He looked to John, trying to help his very rotund form off the bed.

"Ready, love?
He asked. "It's time."

John eyed his mother and his mate before rolling his eyes. "Please do not murder one another. Or Mycroft." He had texted the vampire as well.

Once he was off the bed, he held onto Sherlock, taking a deep breath.

"I know it is time. I have two babies kicking my ribs, or my bladder constantly."

Sherlock chuckled. "Well, all that's about to change-" He was cut off from John having another contraction, and squeezing Sherlock's hand hard enough to almost break the bones in his fingers.

When it was over, he nodded to John's mother and held John's hand as they stepped through the portal.

"Ah, I thought you might be on your way." The healer said, with a smile on his face. He didn't look like he had just been sleeping, but then Sherlock had to remind himself that time moved differently around here.

"Can we get him to a bed please? The contractions are between two and three minutes apart."

Between the two of them, they helped the enormous John onto the rock bed with its cool pillows and into a position where he could give birth.

"Even with the contractions close together, it still might take some time, so get comfortable. Especially with twins, there is usually 10-15 minutes between births, sometimes more."He said while he started to mix something in his mortal and pestle.

"A salve, to lessen the pain." He made up a good batch, then rubbed it around John's entrance, which immediately dulled the pain and made it tingle. "It will not hurt the babies. I promise."

John nodded. He trusted the healer. The demon had helped bring William into the world.

He gripped Sherlock's hand, taking deep breaths. After eight months of waiting... It was almost here. It was almost time for the two of them to meet their twins. Elizabeth Irene and Thomas Richard. He hoped that they were everything they wanted. The perfect combination of the both of them.

Soon enough, or perhaps not soon enough, it was time to push. Thomas was born first, followed by Elizabeth only five minutes later.

But of course their twins couldn't follow regular convention. Thomas was born just before midnight and Elizabeth just after midnight.

It didn't take any time at all, it seemed, before John was dilated and ready to push. Sherlock really had no idea how long it was, he was too busy holding John's hand and grimacing as he squeezed through another contraction.

And then when it was time to push, the squeezes became even more powerful. Sherlock was sure that his hand was bruised, but he he tried not to think about it while the healer, who had summoned two helpers while John was in the beginning pars of labor, was helping his mate through the birth.

When Thomas was born, the bigger of the two, he let out a giant wail, letting the entire world know that he was around and that he didn't like what had just happened.

In moments, the cord was cut and one of the Demoness helpers was washing and weighing and checking him over.

But they hardly had time to think about it. John went back into labor surprisingly quick, and Elizabeth, the much smaller of the two, was born to a much quieter room.

Tension filled the air. She was quiet, and the healer worked on her, clearing her airway and rubbing her back.

And then, finally, a tiny little mewling cry. It was small and soft, but it was there. She was breathing. But she was a lot smaller than her brother, and Sherlock knew instinctively that she would need more attention when they were brought home.

By the time John passed the placenta, they were dried and weighed and examined and wrapped in tiny nappies that were too big for their tiny forms, and hats that dwarfed their little heads, and blanket that swaddled them several times over.

Typical for twins, especially ones born early, they were small, Thomas was 4lbs 6 oz, a bit over normal for a twin born at 31 weeks. Elizabeth was under the weight curve, at 3 lbs, 14oz, half a pound smaller than her brother. Thomas was 17 inches, about normal for a preemie twin, while Elizabeth was 14 inches.

But they were almost miraculously breathing on their own, and they didn't seem to be showing any signs of jaundice. They seemed to be pretty healthy, if not undersized and weight.

John was exhausted. Two new little lives had joined the world. He laid back, smiling. He squeezed Sherlock's hand and then let it go.

"How do they look love?" He asked his mate.

He heard Thomas's cry, and Elizabeth's smaller one. He would do whatever it took to make sure that they were healthy and remained so.

He sat up with his mate's help, wincing slightly. He was sore, but he wanted to hold one or both of his children. William was going to be over the moon.

"Is this a bad time to tell you I was thinking that we should get a dog?"

Even though he had no idea why, he felt almost as exhausted as John looked, though of course this was a dumb thought because he'd just stood there while John did all the work.

"Tiny." Sherlock remarked, while staying out of the way while the three healers did their jobs. He very tenderly helped John to a sitting position, feeling awful at the wince of pain. Even small babies hurt a lot to push out, even with a salve to help the pain, it could only dull it so much.

"Looks like Elizabeth got my curly hair, Thomas' looks more like yours, but I can't see much else from a distance." They were almost done, and they would be able to hold their children in just a moment.

Sherlock looked at John, incredulous. "We are about to have two tiny screaming babies and a 7 year old in our house. I'm not sure that this is really a good time to get a dog." He sighed. "I had a dog when I was younger, an Irish Setter named Redbeard, like the pirate. He died shortly before I was turned. I do love dogs, but are you sure this is a good time, my love?"

The Black Book - AU - Locked to seaweed_writes

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