In Plain Sight - AU - Locked to seaweed_writes

[ihadabadday]

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.

Comments

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock silently nods his head. Gentle, then.. It doesn't really explain why John had been goading him into some quick and probably painful sex before his memories came flooding back, but that was a question for a another time, or perhaps never

Sherlock figured that the man probably didn't have any lube around, since he had never been with a man, so he waggled his fingers and created a small bowl of something slippery. While his mouth flicked over the top of John's glans, he dipped his index finger in the makeshift lube and ran it down John's balls, his perineum and and then around the outside of his hole, only touching around it at first to relax him. .

[ihadabadday]

He let out a breath, slowly starting to relax. The feeling on Sherlock touching him all over. John whined softly. He wasn't sure what he needed. What he wanted.

He reached down and ran a hand through Sherlock's hair. Touching, holding. He whimpered.

[seaweed_writes]

Hopefully Sherlock was right to take that as encouragement. He put a bit more lube on his finger and then pressed in, just barely, past the first muscle, the entrance to his arse. He worked the entrance for a few minutes, backing off from playing with his cock, as he didn't want John to come before he had even gotten inside.

Oh, by the gods, his little hole was tight. It was easy to feel that he had never had anyone there. He had fucked virgins before, and since he never prepped then, they tended to be the ones he killed, because he ravaged them pretty well.

But this. this was different.

This was John. HIS John.

[ihadabadday]

John let out a low breath. Oh that felt good. He whimpered, letting himself fall into the sensation. He swallowed and nodded. "I true you love..."

He did. He trusted Sherlock. Hades. With all that he was. He shivered and closed his eyes.

"How do people ever get out of bed?"

[seaweed_writes]

"One foot at a time?" Sherlock said that seriously, without even thinking about it. It hit him a moment later that he had inadvertently made a joke.

He chuckled, and it turned into a laugh, something that he had heard himself do in.. well, he had no idea how long really. Maybe ever.

Hmmm.. maybe not all of these emotions are totally abhorrent, he thought.

When he was able to compose himself, he pressed his finger in a bit further, getting past the second ring of muscle and into the tight chasm that he anxiously awaited entering with more than just one digit.

[ihadabadday]

John giggled. He couldn't help it. Sherlock had made a joke and it was just. He smiled, letting his giggles fade away. It still left him flushed and eager.

He gasped when that finger moved more. It was.... It was a grand feeling. Never before had he felt like this.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock was patient, though it went against every fiber of his being. He worked John's muscles for a few minutes before lubing up and pressing a second finger inside. Finally he could start to scissor them apart a bit, to really get John thoroughly stretched and ready for him.

[ihadabadday]

"It... It feels good." John managed. He was grateful that Sherlock was being patient. He knew the man wanted to forego this and just push in. He knew it wouldn't kill him, but he wanted this moment like this. Slow and tender. Just a moment with this love between them.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock's patience only went so far... and he pressed in a third finger not too long after the second.. It wasn't quite as wide as him, with his rather slim fingers, but it would be enough that he should be stretched enough.

A few strokes past his prostate made sure that John was still nice and hard and aching for him through this what he considered long, laborious and tedious process to get to what they both wanted.

[ihadabadday]

"Fuck!" John gasped. Oh... That felt good. The stretch and the burn. He wanted wanted... John tugged at Sherlock's hair, harder than he intended.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock hissed in pain.. he had never had anyone pull his hair. There was an immediate jolt of anger, then his mind caught up half a moment later that this was John.

"Brace yourself." was the only warning that Sherlock gave him. Immediatly, he pulled his fingers out and gripped John's hip. He grabbed himself with his other hand and pushed in, less gently than he had been a moment before, but not too hard or violently.

[ihadabadday]

John couldn't help it, he tensed up. He cried out in pain as Sherlock tried to push in. His body didn't want to yield. He whined and shook a bit. It hurt. But he... He wanted Sherlock to continue.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock stopped pushing, and pulled himself all the way out, a frown of frustration on his face.

"I can't do anything if you tense up, John." He said, pushing two fingers back in to try to get him acclimated again.

"I really don't want to rip you open." That wasn't 100% true, there was a part of him that wanted to go wild knowing that now he could survive, but he knew that wasn't what John wanted right now.

[ihadabadday]

John sobbed and shook his head. It hurt. He was scared. It was silly, but he was. He was scared what it would mean, if Sherlock would be bored after he got what he wanted.

He loved the man, he knew he did. But he was scared. He'd never loved anyone before. Never been with anyone. It had been a lonely time.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock sighed. He was trying his best not to let his frustration get the better of him. He pulled his fingers out.

"Another time then. You clearly aren't ready." Perhaps this was not HIS John then.. he was beginning to wonder if Fates had been wrong, after all, or perhaps he had failed in some way himself.

Sherlock stood up and with a wave of his fingers, his own clothes were back on himself.

[ihadabadday]

John just seemed to crumple in on himself. He nodded mutely and then got up. John made his way to the bathroom and got in the shower. He turned the water on cold and got in.

He shivered and barely noticed as ice and vines began to form on the outside of the door.

Did Sherlock not want him now? He was confused and hurt.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock watched John go. He still felt like he was no closer to understand him that he had been before Greg gave him the power to feel emotions. Just when they seemed to be on the verge of a breakthrough, John closed up and Sherlock felt like he had taken two step back instead of forward.

Her was seriously considering either just leaving, or forcing Greg upon pain and torture to tell him what the fuck was going on, when he noticed a chill in the air.

He looked over to the door. Ice was creeping up from the bottom upwards, and vines were entangled in the ice..

What the fuck was going on? m

[ihadabadday]

John sat in the cold shower, shivering and struggling to stay awake. Sleep sounded like such a good idea. Sleep.

His eyes closed and he seemed to tilt forward a bit. "Hades..." He breathed, not registering the power behind the word.

He needed Hades. And Hades needed him.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock felt a shiver reverberate through him, like all of the heat had been sucked from the room. It was bone deep, a chill that he couldn't shake, one like he had never felt before.

That was when he heard it.. it wasn't with his ear, but it was in his mind.

John was calling him, using his true name.

In a flash Sherlock was up, using his strength to break open the door that had become lodged with ice and vines.

Fear gripped him a fear greater than anything like he had ever felt stronger than any emotion before it.

"John!" He ran over to the shower and stepped in, not caring that he was still clothed, or that the water was ice cold.

"John. Stay awake. For me!"

[ihadabadday]

The man didn't respond, limp in Sherlock's arms. He just looked... Exhausted.

Fates might not have suspected this outcome.

John wasn't dying. His power was manifesting in a new way. The power of Persephone. He would need to be removed from the Overworld soon, less it would mess with the seasons.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock lifted him up easily and took him into the bedroom. He laid the man down and toweled him off as best he could, then put him back into bed on the other side where the sheets were dry, covering him with the sheets as well as a comforter.

He had no idea what was going on with John. He looked exhausted, so Sherlock figured that he needed more sleep, even though he has just rested. Perhaps it wasn't enough.

He sighed as he plopped back into the chair next to the bed, wishing that Fates had told him more. He was, for once, at a total loss here.

[ihadabadday]

The wind started howling outside the window, the skies darkening. And snow falling.

John's eyes opened and he gasped. He felt... Everything felt like it was dying arouns him, muted and muddled. He reached up and tangled his hands in his hair.

What was going on?

"Hades... It hurts." He gasped, not realizing the man was there. "Everything's dying..."

[seaweed_writes]

A quick look outside confirmed what John was saying. Winter had fallen, the skies were dark and forboding, the wind howling wildly outside their door.

Suddenly, it dawned on Sherlock.

"We are leaving. NOW."

Without waiting for John to respond, he grabbed the man's arm, and a moment later, they were back in Hell, the gigantic form of Cerberus looming on front of them.

It started to growl, but when it sniffed the air, it knew that scent, it was the mortal that its master had under his protection. It went quiet, going back to its guard position that it has previously been at

[ihadabadday]

John relaxed in Sherlock's arms the moment they were away from the Overworld.

He blinked wearily at the man before reaching up and touching his cheek. "I'm sorry..."

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock still held him, almost bridal style, as they went past Cerberus and into the main throne room. Unfortunately, in a fit of anger, Sherlock had pretty much destroyed HIS John's room not long after he had become a mortal again.

He put John down gently on his throne while he used his magic to put the room back the way it was, even with a toilet and shower again, like he had had in the past, though he wasn't sure if this John was going to want them or not.

When he was done, he gently picked John back up and laid him down in the human style bed.

"You can't go back to the Overworld." He said, simply. "Not until the first day of Winter, the Winter Solsctice. You are Persephone, and you must spend the entirety of the other seasons here, with me, from the Spring Solstice to the Winter Solstice, this is your home."