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

[ihadabadday]

John swallowed and took deep breaths, forcing himself to remain relaxed, to breath. He swallowed and pressed his face against the cool floor. A contrast to the slight burning in his arse from not enough preparation. And Sherlock was not a small man at all.

He nearly sobbed when he felt those bollocks hit against his arse. "Sherlock..." He already sounded punch drunk.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock stilled for a moment when he was fully ensheathed in John. His other hand that had been on himself went to John's hip, so he was grabbing him on both sides now holding him tight.

"John... can I move?" It was torture, taking it this slow, and John had no idea how much this was killing him to try to be human, to do this like John did.

[ihadabadday]

John was taking deep shuddering breaths, trying to control himself, get used to the large intrusion inside of him. "In a moment... Oh god." He shuddered, feeling... Feeling. He wasn't sure.

God. Fuck. God. John dragged his nails against the floor and carpet. He took a deep breath and then nodded. "Move, please."

[seaweed_writes]

When John said to wait a moment, Sherlock bit his lip to stop the growl that had come to his lips. But thankfully, he hadn't needed long to adjust.

Finally.. FINALLY he was able to move inside of John once again, after so many decades. He wasn't quite HIS John.. not yet.. but soon, very soon, he hoped. He just had to figure out how to get John to remember.

This was a good start, he hoped.

Surprisingly, even to himself, he was slow at first, pulling until only his glans remained, then he pushed in. He repeated this, going a but harder, a bit faster each time, trying to work John up to a good buggering.

[ihadabadday]

John cried out against the floor. He shuddered and pushed his hips back. Dear god. God. It felt good. So very good. He gasped, everything so... He... Fuck. The blonde felt something... It was right here, but he couldn't quite grasp it.

[seaweed_writes]

"John..." Sherlock moaned. His hand gripped John tighter, leaving bruises on his hips that were going to linger for days, he knew.

Sherlock leaned down, grasping John and stroking him in time with his thrusts. The man was hot and heavy between his own legs, dripping down onto the floor under him. He used John's own pre and the lube that was already on his fingers to stroke John with no friction.

He fought hard not to go hard and heavy inside of John.. he could already feel his bollocks tightened against his body.. He was close, so very close now. He needed to spill inside of John, to mark the man, to make then whole once again.

[ihadabadday]

The pain on his hips radiated through him and he wanted more of it. He groaned and clutched at the floor. He cried out, shaking his head. God. This was... It was fantastic.

Another cried came from him when that hand wrapped around his cock. Fuck. Fuck. The blonde shook his head, moaning. "Sherlock!"

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock leaned his head down, biting John's neck while he pounded into the man.

"Ahhhhh.. Johhhhnnnnn..." He cried out as he thrust hard, spilling himself deep inside of the doctor. His hand still stroked the man, trying to bring him to his own release as as Sherlock's intense high started to fade.

[ihadabadday]

John bit his lip to muffle the scream as he felt Sherlock fill him. No doubt his landlady would be gossiping tomorrow. Her good doctor brought a handsome man home.

It didn't take much until he came under the other man's skilled hand.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock continued to rock inside of John until he felt the man tighten around him, felt his cock pulse, and felt the warmth dribble down his hand.

When John was done, He pulled his hand away, pulled out of John, and sat, panting like a human with his back against the bottom of the couch.

"John.... "He said, breathless. He really wasn't sure what else to say right now.

[ihadabadday]

John slumped onto the floor, making a small noise. He raised his head and looked at Sherlock.

"I meant it. Stay here with me." He moved, groaning as he felt Sherlock's release running down his thighs.

[seaweed_writes]

He had to admit, it was rather nice, watching a part of himself dribble down John's arse. It made for a lovely mental picture that he was going to file away for later.

"Stay. Stay the night, or move in? We don't even know each other yet." Of course that was a lie when it came to Sherlock. He had seen John, known him from when he was only a few hours old. But he didn't need to know that.

[ihadabadday]

John stroked his cheek gently before leaning in and kissing him. This man. This marvelous man. He shrugged after a bit. "So? People have done more with less."

He moved and boldly sat in Sherlock's lap.

[seaweed_writes]

It really hadn't been an answer to the question that he had asked, though he would have said yes to either one.

"I could be a serial killer, or a rapist, or a god." Sherlock said, playfully arching upwards with John in his lap. He had just had two rounds in pretty quick succession, and while he knew that he could go for as long as he wanted, he knew that John had to be drained, literally and figuratively, and would need time to recover.

"It is no small feat, inviting a person you have known for less than 24 hours to live with you."

[ihadabadday]

John scoffed. "Well if you're going to turn down all the fantastic sex you want..." He got up and stepped back.

He was feeling playful tonight.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. He was the one who had been playing hard to get. now John was trying to turn that back on him.

"There is really no shortage of places to get sex when I want it." He replied. It was true, anonymous sex was easy, and if he accidentally, or not so accidentally killed his partner, what was one less drugged out twink found dead on the streets? He could make it look like an accident. He had plenty of times in the past.

Before HIS John.

"But... if you insist." He said, sounding rather put out about it, a playful, evil smirk crossing his lips.

[ihadabadday]

John laughed and held out his hands to Sherlock. "True. But you liked being inside me. Probably better than anyone else you've had before."

He smiled. John wasn't sure why he was doing this. Just that he was and it was the right thing to do.

[seaweed_writes]

"Well, that is rather presumptuous of you." Sherlock scoffed. "You have no idea how many sexual partners that I have had. And I can tell you that I have been inside almost all of them," This was true. He never received, he either fucked them to within an inch of their lives (or sometimes beyond) or he made them suck him off. (And sometimes that ended up bad for them as well).

Of course he would never admit that obviously except for HIS John, he was better than anyone else he had ever been inside. He didn't need to know that.

Sherlock hardly had any worldly belongings. Why would he need stupid mortal comforts? If did indeed move in with this man, he would need to buy.. whatever it was that humans had, to keep his cover.

[ihadabadday]

John shrugged a bit at that answer. "Why don't you just start by staying the night then?" He offered.

After a moment he got up. "Or you can go home." He said. John wasn't sure anymore about his burgeoning feelings for this man. He seemed doubtful. John knew wasn't he doubtful, that he felt something for Sherlock. But if the man was just using him for a quick shag...

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock could sense the man's disquiet. He wasn't trying to pus John away of course, but he really had no idea what he was doing when it came to these mortal emotions that he was trying to figure out.

"I would like to stay the night." he said, getting up and standing close to John. "This wasn't just a shag and leave." He continued, not even sure why he was still speaking or what he was going to stay. "This was..." He trailed off, trying to figure out how to complete the sentence. "..Nice"

It wasn't great, but hopefully it was enough for John, for now at least. even saying that simple thing had been inordinately hard.

[ihadabadday]

He reached up and stroked Sherlock's cheek. He smiled at him and then nodded. "Alright then. I want to shower." He informed his new lover.

John stepped away and headed back towards the bathroom.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock watched John go into the loo and close the door. He had no idea what the protocol was now. Was he supposed to join John in the shower, or just wait here until he was done? All of his other shags were a fuck and then gone. There was no lingering, there was no talking, and there was certainly no showering afterwards.

He looked down at himself, he was a bit of a mess himself. One quick sweep of his fingers would get him clean, but then how would he explain that to John?

Sherlock sighed, and decided that staying slightly messy and naked was preferable to dirtying the only pair of clothes that he had with him.

So he slumped down on the couch and waited for John, trying to occupy his mind so he didn't die of boredom first

Not that he actually COULD die, but he was sure he was going to if the man took too long.

[ihadabadday]

John came out of the bathroom only ten minutes later, wrapped in a fluffy blue robe. He smiled when he saw Sherlock. "You look like you might melt into my couch." He moved over and sat next to Sherlock, but not close enough to touch.

He glanced at the man and then away. "If you want to clean up, I did lay out a fresh towel for you."

[seaweed_writes]

The couch, for all its rather ugly camel brown pleather look, was much more comfortable than it had any right to be. If he had needed sleep, he might have actually taken a nap.

As it was though, he just sat there for 10 minutes and sank into his thoughts until John returned.

"Oh.. umm.. thanks." He had never taken a shower before, but it seemed the prudent thing to do.

He got up and headed into the loo. It was still warm and steamy from when John had been there, and he sighed softly. It reminded him of Hell, of home. He actually kind of missed the place, and he decided then that after John he was going to spend a bit of time there. It was odd to be homesick, but he spent so much time there in the past that it had just become a part of him.

Except, of course for the past 30 years.

He turned on the shower as hot as it would go, the dial all the way to the left, and decided that if John had taken about 10 minutes, that was what he would do.

Sherlock used his magic to clean himself, but thought that he might should smell like he cleaned, so he rubbed something from a bottled called 'shampoo' all over himself and lathered it in, so he would smell clean. it smelt like John's hair, and he found himself twitching softly at the thought. He had rather liked how John's hair smelt.

Almost exactly 10 minutes later, he got out, wrapped the towel almost dangerously low on his hips, and went back into the living room, feeling surprisingly refreshed.

Maybe he would have to take these.. shower things more often.

[ihadabadday]

John had actually drifted off to sleep, looking so peaceful and at ease. He had a long day at the A&R, and a rather full night. His phone was on the table and buzzing slightly with a text.

He didn't think his day would end up like this. Meeting someone like Sherlock, bringing him home.