ihadabadday | In Plain Sight - AU - Locked to seaweed

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In Plain Sight - AU - Locked to seaweed_writes

No one knew how long Gods had walked among the mortals. They just knew they had. Some remained in their country of origin, some branched out and traveled. Others started business or charities. Some just went through existence simply being. Belief didn't have much to do with how the Gods chose to lead their lives.

This tale though, it focuses on the Greek Gods of old and Mount Olympus (which is a real place and traditionally is where Zeus is said to live with Hera).

John Watson didn't care for the politics of the Gods that surrounded them every day. He had other things to focus on, to pay attention to. Like medical school, and then the military. It wasn't until he was shot and laying in the desert, bleeding, did he whisper things to the God of Death, to Hades. To a god he didn't believe in. Blood whispers they were often called. And gods hardly paid attention to them, most believed they were the whispers of dying men.

But John Watson survived when others with the same injury had died. What was different about him?

He returned to London on an army pension and a cane. He shuffled through his life, a constant ache in his chest, like there was something missing. Though he had little to no idea of what was missing. He helped others where he could, donating his time and what little money. A homeless veteran (it boiled him so to see those who helped their country be left behind) once called him a beacon of light.

A beacon of light huh?

Most days he didn't feel like one. Most days his mood was dark and everything was shit.

One night when he was limping slowly back to his dismal bedsit, something caught his attention. He glanced down an alley and saw a tall man dressed in black, being mugged by some ratty youth. The man was far too posh for this neighborhood. So why was he here? But that didn't matter. John, on two strong legs, charged into the alley and used his cane to knock the criminal away. He didn't notice, but there seemed to be a light around him, an otherworldy aura to him.

He held the cane like a sword and pointed it at the would be thief. "You need to leave here." John commanded. It had been easy for some to forget that he had been Captain John Watson of the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers in Her Majesty's Army.

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"Ohhhh.." It was all he was able to get out before he was swallowed up by his lover. His cock, which had been flaccid up to that point, was starting to fill. Sherlock carded his long, thing fingers through John's short hair. "Ahh yes. Like that." He encouraged the man, making sure not to arch forward or push John's head towards him. He certainly could do either or both, but for now, he wanted to enjoy this moment.

John looked up at him as he moved his head up and down, sucking on his length. They had never done this. He had never sucked Sherlock's cock. The man had merely fucked him.

He shifted a bit, his own cock hardening.

Sherlock's fingers scraped across John's scalp. He may be in his 'human' form, but his fingernails were closer to claws than human like nails. He was careful not to dig too deep, not to make him bleed, but enough to make sure that John felt it.

At this angle, there was nothing that Sherlock could do about John's hardening cock. He didn't have to look down. He could smell it on the man, the arousal.

His own cock filled and swelled, engorging with the attention that John was paying it until it was jutting out, straight and hard and flushed in front of him.

"John. I want you to taste me." He growled, as much of a command as a suggestion.

He groaned and nodded. John pulled back slightly and licked the tip of his cock. "How? Do you want me to suck you down or do you want to come over my face?"

John knew what he was doing. He knew what he was saying. He swallowed before leaning back in and taking the tip in his mouth.

Yes. Yes wanted that, and every thing else, anything else that John could give to him. He knew that John.. this John had never been with a man before.. And yet, he seemed to be quite good at what he was doing. HIS John had never fellated him either, they had always just gotten right down to brass tacks. Sherlock was not the type for foreplay or sweet words.

Sherlock didn't answer, instead he pushed his hips forward, pressing more of his impressive length down into John's mouth. Sadly, he knew even if the man knew how to deep throat, which he didn't he still couldn't get all of himself inside, so he had to make do with what he could.

John, that wonderful John, was still breathing, even though Sherlock was almost certain that he didn't have to any more, it was a hard habit to break it seemed, but at least he wouldn't have to worry about cutting off his air supply.

He hoped.

John closed his eyes as he moved his head up and down, sucking happily. He just... He wasn't sure what he was doing felt good to the man. But he hoped it was.

He shivered and brought his hand up to stroke what wasn't in his mouth. He wondered if he was going to be able to get all of that length down his throat. It was huge, but he... John moaned around Sherlock.

Sherlock closed his eyes, his body shivering with pleasure. He was fully hard, aching, dripping for John. He pushed more of himself inside his lover's mouth until he hit the back of the man's throat. He had been able to get about half of his length inside John's mouth, but that was as far as he could go, until he taught John how to deep throat.

It would have to do for now.

"Use... your tongue..." He advised John while he started to move in and out of John's mouth, fucking his face much more gently.. so far.. that he would have ravaged his arse.

He looked up at Sherlock as he moved his tongue, stroking, teasing, tasting. John swallowed and kept moving his hand along the length not in his throat. Even as Sherlock fucked and took. He thrived on it.

To be used like this. John moaned, unable to stop himself. His own cock ached and pressed against the form flattering trousers he wore. He could feel himself leaking, soaking into the fabric.

"Fuck..." Sherlock growled. If John kept up like this, he would be coming down that lovely throat in no time.

His thrusts became harder and faster and deeper, starting to push into the territory of his throat, but never moving too far down. His clawed hands dug harder into John's scalp, finally breaking the skin, causing little dots of blood to mat his hair, but Sherlock knew he could take it.

"Don't you care touch yourself.." He growled a deep, low threat with the promise of something behind it. He was chasing his own pleasure now, and John could either come untouched, or wait until Sherlock had finished coating his mouth in his come.

He wanted... He wanted. He couldn't. John pressed his palm against his hard cock. Trying to stave off his own release, but also to goad Sherlock.

But they sensation of the man fucking his face, forcing more and more of that large cock down his throat. He wanted... Wanted. Yes, more. Please more.

The moment Sherlock saw John with the palm of his hand against his cock, Sherlock pulled his own cock out of John's mouth.

"Couldn't even obey a command for a few seconds, could you?" He growled low and dangerous, sounding quite like the predator that he could be.

In a flash, Sherlock created a tall mound out of the ground and a length of rope. He tied John's hands together, then tied them to the mound, so he couldn't go anywhere.

"I think you didn't believe me. Well, believe it." Sherlock took his own cock and started to stroke it. "You are going to watch me get off time after time, and there is nothing that you will be able to do except watch me and wish you could finish.

He created a cock ring out of steel, fitting it to John's length at the base. He wouldn't be able to come while that was being worn.

"Enjoy the show." Sherlock growled, and started to stroke himself in earnest.

John knew if he wanted to, he could break the bonds that held him. But that wasn't the point. No. He licked his lips and then gasped when that cock ring was placed around his cock. He groaned and then tried to push his hips forward. But no luck.

He whined softly as he watched Sherlock stroke himself. Over and over. John didn't tug at his restraints, he just leaned forward, wanting...

"Please. Use my mouth to get yourself off. It's just another hole for you to fuck."

If the bonds had been normal, John could have easily broken them. Magical bonds though, that was a horse of another color.

Sherlock watched him, still an pliant, glad to see that he was taking his punishment.

Well, mostly.

"No." Sherlock replied. He was not going to touch the man.. At least, not for a bit.

At first, Sherlock tried to tease John, making himself hard but not getting himself off. But he had no sense of foreplay. or patience, and it quickly grew in to how fast could he wank himself off.

Sherlock went hard and fast, knowing just the strokes to make himself feel good, that little twist on the upstroke, and the tighter grip on the down stroke.

Soon enough, he was closing his eyes and leaning his head back, spilling his molten hot seed over his hand and letting it sizzle on the ground in front of his feet.

The good thing about being a god, was that he only had to let is body calm down for a moment, before he started stroking again.

John was desperate, his own cock hard and leaking. He sobbed and tugged at his restraints.

He had seen Sherlock come so many times and... Fuck. He ached and wanted. He wanted so bad. To have Sherlock, to feel the man inside him one way or another. He shook his head, making small noises.

Of course Sherlock was watching John, observing how many times he would have to do this for John to get the point. He figured once, maybe twice more at the most.. At least he hoped so, because he would much rather be with John, or more preferably IN John right now, but a point had to be made.

It took his less time the second time, as his body was already aroused and primed. He stroked and pulled and made rather obscene noises, and soon enough a second orgasm hit, just as intense as the first, and his seed started to form into a puddle in front of him.

He was still hard, even after that, a god's stamina was never ending, but instead of starting on a third time, he watched John, and his reaction.

"Sherlock please..." John begged, finally breaking, "Please... I'll do anything."

He wanted. He didn't know what he wanted. But he wanted Sherlock, whatever the man could give him. He swallowed and shifted a bit.

"Anything..." Sherlock smiled. He stroked himself lazily, not getting himself off, but going back, for the moment at least, to a more teasing motion.

He stepped closer to John as he quickened his pace, almost close enough for John to reach out out and lick him, but not quite.

Quickly, he sped up again, groaning as a third orgasm approached.

"AHHH.. HAA...." He gave himself just the right little twist and with a groan his seed was pulsing and splattering all over John's face, in his hair, his cheeks, his lips, his mouth.

Sherlock undid the magic bonds. "Clean yourself off, lick it all clean. Do a good job and maybe, just maybe, I will reward you. But don't miss a drop." He growled low for the last few words. "Not a bit."

John watched Sherlock, closing his eyes as the god's seed started to hit his face. He opened his eyes after a moment. He let out a breath and nodded. He nodded and then began to clean himself up. He obeyed Sherlock, he licked every drop he could get.

When he was done, he looked up at Sherlock, remaining on his knees.

Oh, it was glorious, watching him. Sherlock kept up a lazy pace of touching himself while John cleaned every bit of his essence off of him.

And when he was done, Sherlock smiled, and in a magical poof, the cock ring was gone, leaving John free, hard, and dripping once again.

"Now, you aren't going to touch yourself, right?" He asked as he moved close again, teasing John by rubbing the head of his cock around John's face, lips, even his cheeks and and nose, letting John smell and feel and almost taste him.

The blonde nodded. "No sir... I won't touch myself." He assured Sherlock.

He wasn't going to disobey right now. No. Not when Sherlock was this close, when he'd been giving him what...

"Would you like me to suck you sir?"

Sherlock nodded, once against pressing the head of his cock to John's lips. He knew that this time John would be good, and not palm himself through his trousers like the had before.
His head pushed against John's lips, seeking and then gaining access, pressing in just a tiny bit before pulling back and letting John take over.

He wrapped his lips around the head and began to move his head up and down, sucking on the man.

John was trembling slightly, eager and aching for whatever came next.

Sherlock stayed still.. at first, letting John get back into a rhythm.. He could feel the slight tremor in his body. The man was most likely beyond aroused now. Sherlock wondered if he could get John off without even letting him touch himself? It wasn't easy but he was well aroused. It could be an experiment.... And if ti didn't work, it wouldn't take but a tiny grope to set John off.. A win/win either way.

As John set into a rhythm, Sherlock started to push forward at the same time John was at his deepest, pushing Sherlock's length to the very back of his throat. At the same time He grabbed John's hair and tugged hard but not recklessly or needlessly too hard.

"Yes... more.... you are so good." He encouraged John onwards.

John whimpered when Sherlock tugged his hair. It was... He liked it. The rush of pain and everything that went with it.

He was glad that he was pleasing him, giving into what he wanted. What they both wanted. John groaned as he kept moving his head, trying to get more of that length down his throat.

"Nnnngg... Johhnn.. Joooooohhnn!!!" Sherlock leaned his head back forcing every little bit of himself that he could inside of John;s throat, filling the back of his throat and down his gullet with his molten hot seed, spurt after spurt, much longer and more intense than the ones that had come before it.

Sherlock rode the wave of pleasure, thrusting even after the flow had slowed, and then stopped altogether.

"Ahhh. Johnnn..." He groaned softly, well aware that John hadn't gotten off yet.

In Plain Sight - AU - Locked to seaweed_writes

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