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.

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[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock hadn't even noticed about this body temperature. He was having physical reactions to the emotions that he was feelings.

Well, that was unexpected.

There was really no way to make an excuse, so Sherlock steeled himself, closing his eyes for a moment before looking down at the man under him.

"I... made a deal with the Fates. He gave me 48 hours, in which I would feel human emotions." He admitted. By the gods, these emotions were threatening to overwhelm him. He was feeling.. what he assumed was nervousness about talking to John about this. He felt a strange almost queasiness in the stomach that he had created for this mortal-looking form.

[ihadabadday]

John let out a breath and stared at the man above him. "Why did you do that?" he asked. It didn't even register to him that Sherlock might have done it for him. He ran a hand through the man's wild, curly hair.

He watched Sherlock, memories trying to claw their way up. Bits and pieces breaking through. Defending Sherlock in an alley, meeting Cerberus for the first time, arguing with the man loudly...

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock frowned. Could he really not figure out why he would do that? He felt a new emotion, anger, and frustration. Frustration was something he had known before. Mortals frustrated him all the time.. But this was more intense, much more than he had ever felt before.

He let out a long breath. He hated this, the longer he was in the Overworld, the more like a mortal he became. He wanted so badly to go back to Hell where he belonged, and take John with him.

"Think about it, John." he said, low and even.

[ihadabadday]

"For me?" He asked almost unsure. John did not have an entirely supportive family while he was growing up and he'd spent so much time working and going to school, he had forgotten that others would do things, sacrifice things for him.

[seaweed_writes]

"Yes." Sherlock said softly. For you." Always for you, he thought to himself, chiding himself immediately afterwards for being so stupidly sentimental. He hated these feelings, but he cared for John, and he was suffering through it for him.

He would do almost anything for John, other than becoming mortal himself.

"You are starting to remember more, aren't you?" He asked, trying to change the subject a bit. He had seen John with an odd look on his face, like he was trying to think about something that was fluttering just out of reach.

[ihadabadday]

John let out a breath and then kissed him. He... He wasn't entirely sure what he was remembering. There was this flood of emotions. Happiness, love, anger, sadness, relief... They all came crashing into him at once. And he couldn't stop the tears that were starting to fall.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock felt the warm wetness of the tears as they kissed. He held John close, wrapping his arms around the man and holding him tight against his body.

"John. I'm here." He softly whispered in his ear between kisses. He was feeling sadness, anxiousness, and a bit of confusion. Had he caused John to cry? Was he pushing John further away, even as he was trying to get closer to the man? He couldn't fail now. If he lost John, he was sure that he would never get over it.

Gently, Sherlock hand his hands through John's hair while he held the man and kissed him tenderly.

[ihadabadday]

"I'm okay." He said when they broke the kiss for air. John swallowed and reached up to wipe the tears from his eyes.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock leaned in, kissing the corners of his eyes, tasting the salt from his tears.

"What do you remember?" He asked. "I can try to fill in any gaps that you have. I can show you Hell, and Cerberus, and the room that you, well the you before, stayed in for the years you lived there."

[ihadabadday]

"Sherlock.... Not yet. Please." He begged softly, "I'm not ready yet."

But John pulled Sherlock down, pushing his hand under the man's shirt to touch and feel and ground himself.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock nodded his head. Alright, he would wait, he supposed.

He groaned slightly when John rucked up his shirt. He was still hovering over John, on his hands and knees so he wont crush the man under himself.

Sherlock leaned his head down, nipping at John's neck, leaving little red marks, one that would take a while to fade. He growled in to his throat, letting John feel the vibrations of his voice.

[ihadabadday]

John shuddered, his eyes closing at the feeling. He arched up, still just in his bathrobe from earlier. He wanted more. To feel more.

His heart was beating rapidly and he felt... He felt so much.

[seaweed_writes]

One quick tug of his dressing gown, and the the robe was undone. He shrugged the robe of John's shoulders. He was on the bed so it didn't fall way, but it was open and under his body now, between John and the bed.

"Perfect." Sherlock moaned. He licked a stripe down John's chest, from the base of his neck, between his pectorals, and down to his belly, stopping at the line of hair that lead to places down below.

"Yes. Perfect."

[ihadabadday]

John cried out when he felt that tongue on him. Fuck. He tightened his hand in Sherlock's hair, gasping. "Oh god you..." He swallowed and then released Sherlock's hair.

The man was making him lose his mind, and he wasn't sure if it was a bad thing.

[seaweed_writes]

"You like that, don't you?" He growled, licking him again, this time stopping just a little bit further down.

"You want me to take you like I used to, ravage you, fuck you into this bed. I know you do. I can see it in your eyes."

Lust. This was a feeling that he knew fairly well, but it was much more intense now.. by the gods, he wanted this man more than anything else in any of the worlds right now.

[ihadabadday]

John cried out as he felt that tongue lower and and... He nodded. He ached for it. To be taken roughly, without care. Hr Could feel the desire for it bubbling in him.

He yanked Sherlock up and kissed him with teeth and tongue. He then moved his lips to kissed against Sherlock's ear. "Fuck me like you own me Hades..."

[seaweed_writes]

Oh, there was the John... HIS John... the man truly was in there somewhere. He wanted to revert to his normal self, but changing into a 9 foot tall, bluish skinned demon of Hell, might take the list out of him.. so he abstained.

He knew that he had to be careful. He couldn't ravage this John the same way. He still could die.As far as they knew he was still mortal, but oh how he really wanted to ravage him, to take him with no compunctions. no holding back.

Sherlock bit down on John's neck after reverting his teeth to thier more normal, sharp form. It was enough to draw a small line of punctures, the tiniest bit of blood trickling from them. He licked at the wound, savoring the irony taste of his lover's essence, truly his lifeblood.

He didn't care if John saw him use magic now. With a wave of his fingers, his own clothes disappeared, leaving him naked, hard and aching above his lover.

[ihadabadday]

John gave a moan at the wave of want and lust and desire that filled him. Was it coming from Sherlock? He didn't know. He didn't care.

All he cared about was having this man, letting himself fall and tumble into all of this. These memories that were rising up. Understanding the emotions and sensations he felt.

He saw the use of magic and let out a breath. "Amazing..."

[seaweed_writes]

There was so much more he could do, he could show John with his magic. But not right now. There was a time for that, and right now all he wanted to do was bugger this man.

Sherlock bit his way down John's torso, leaving small red puncture wounds the whole way, until he got to his cock. He reverted his teeth back to normal, licking at the base of his cocks, down over his bollocks and down the cleft to the pucker between his cheeks.

"Roll over." He demanded. This was going to be a lot harder to do with John on his back.

[ihadabadday]

"Or what?" He demanded, "You won't fuck me? I know you want it. I want it. I desire it. I ache for you. But I seem to remember you told me you can change your cock into any form."

He was sure it was true for Sherlock's being. He licked his lips, heart racing.

[seaweed_writes]

"Or I'll turn you over myself, and you won't like it." Sherlock growled, meaning every single word of what he said. He may look like a mortal, but that didn't mean he was as weak as a mortal. He could pick John up with one hand and not exert any energy.

"If I was my true form, I'd rip your mortal body apart." Lust and anger mixed in his voice. He wanted John, and now he was trying to be coy and argumentative? He was playing a dangerous game.

Just to prove that he wasn't kidding, he easily picked John up off the bed, holding him over his head, almost flush with the low ceiling in his flat.

He turned John over and dropped the man onto the bed, simply letting go, so he actually bounced slightly as he fell back to the mattress. But he was on his stomach, like Sherlock wanted him.

[ihadabadday]

John gasped when he was picked up and moved. And then he hit the bed, the air rushing from him. He gasped, working to get his breath back before Sherlock dove in.

He moved and looked over his shoulder at Sherlock. "I may have to get another partner to satisfy me. I love rough sex." He hoped Sherlock knew that. Rough sex, multiple partners at once...

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock couldn't understand why John was egging him on so. Did he not realize that he *HAD* to hold back, or else he was going to kill this man? He was the God of Death, capable of ripping the life out of any mortal. And this man was goading him into getting angry and ravagin him.

Did he... want to die?

That was the only explanation that he even slightly made sense.

But it didn't, because he thought that John cared for him, why would he want to die at his own hands?

Sherlock bit hard down on John's neck, his sharp fangs not holding back this time, leaving two deep, bloody holes in the back of his neck that ran down the sides f his neck and stained the sheet under him red.

"Do you want me to kill you?" He growled in John's ear. "I can, with no hesitation." He pulled John's hair so his head was back against his neck, further opening the puncture wounds and matting his hair with blood.

"I can make my cock big enough to rip out your intestines while I fuck you as you slowly die under me. Is that rough enough for you?"

[ihadabadday]

"Sherlock!" He gasped as the dam broke and the memories came flooding back. The memories and the power.

John sobbed as it felt like he was being ripped open. The power, whatever it was, settling into him. Reaching to Sherlock, wanting to twine together. To become one. To bring this mortal to the realm of the Gods. John Watson eternally belonged to Sherlock. To Hades. He was the God's Persephone.

[seaweed_writes]

"John!" Anger and frustration quickly turned to fear. He could see the pain on John's face, the agony as something was tearing at him from the inside out.

"FATES!" He yelled out, not sure if they man could hear his call.

Immediately his arms went around John, cradling the man to himself, holding the former demigod tight, helpless to stop whatever it was that was happening to him.

"FATES! TO ME!" If Greg didn't show in about 5 seconds, Sherlock was taking them both to Hell and summoning Fates by a more direct means.