ihadabadday | Into the Night - AU - Locked to seaweed

"I do sir..." He answered. John hoped his slight did not anger Sherlock. He wanted to be able to come tonight, to get some relief.

He bit his lip and squirmed a bit, feeling the plug move inside him.

Sherlock was silent. He moved until he was hovering over John. He reached down and started to move the plug in and out again, listening as it was making a satisfying slurping noise as it moved around the come and lube that covered John's insides.

"I wanna see if I can make you come without even touching you." he said, shifting the angle of the plug so that it would brush against his prostate. "Can you do that for me? Can you be a good little toy and come all over yourself for me without me touching you?"

John tensed and gasped as he felt the plug move. And move and move. It was rubbing over and over against the bundle of nerves that was his prostate.

And...

And...

He cried out as he reached his climax, unable to stop it, not wanting to stop it.

Sherlock watched with a broad smile as John shot up to his chest, then the rest covered his stomach, a long trail of his come striping his body.

"Mmm... Good boy." He continued to push the plug in and out even after the orgasm was done, milking every last bit out of the man. Finally the pushed it back in hard with a shove.

"You were so good. Do you feel better now?" He asked with a grin.

John was trembling from the effects of his orgasm and Sherlock pounding that plug into him. He sobbed and nodded.

"I do. Thank you sir." His entire being seemed to relax and droop a little. Sherlock had worn him out.

Immediately, he dropped out of his dom head space and adopted a much softer tone. He got up and went to the loo, coming back a moment later with a wet flannel. As much as it was tempting to let him wear that to bed, it would feel awful soon, and it would get all over his sheets.

He cleaned John up, then himself, tossing the flannel in the bin. "Come on, Let's get you into bed." He gently helped John onto the bed and under the covers. " Get some rest. I'll come back to bed soon." He was worn out from earlier but his mind was still racing. He needed time to come down and relax before he would be able to sleep himself.

John was asleep the moment he curled up on the bed. He looked content in the bed, relaxed and at ease.

He slept through the night, nightmares not plaguing him for the first time in ages.

Sherlock watched him for a few minutes, then went into the living room and opened up his laptop. It was hours later, in the wee hours of the morning, when he finally shut the laptop and crawled into bed. John was so deep in sleep, he hardly even shifted.
Sherlock wrapped and arm protectively around him, and was in a deep, restful slumber in just a few minutes.

John woke close to dawn, as had been his habit for many years. He rubbed his face and then shifted to get out of the bed. He looked at the sleeping Sherlock and smiled. He kissed his head before going into the bathroom to use the loo and wash his face. Upon exiting, he found his pants and donned them before going to the kitchen to see about breakfast.

Sherlock stirred a bit when he felt a kiss upon his head, but he quickly fell back asleep, and was out for another almost hour before his bladder screamed at him that it was time to get up.
He didn't bother putting on any clothes, he used the loo and did a quick tooth scrubbing, then wrapped the bed sheet around him and walked into the hallway, where the smell of breakfast led him to the kitchen. He rubbed his eyes sleepily with the back of his hand.

"You're up early." He said. "Do you...er.. have a job that you go to? Or was the club your job?" He realized that he didn't even know a simple thing like that about John.

John looked up and smiled at Sherlock. "Water for tea is warm and your breakfast is in the oven to keep warm." He answered before taking a sip of his tea.

"The bar was my job. After I quit, I saw some clients here and there. Private practice always brings in more money."

Tea first, Sherlock decided. He needed some caffeine. He made himself a nice strong cup, with plenty of sugar, and then pulled the plate out of the oven, sitting down at his kitchen table.

"I didn't even know I had all these ingredients in my house." He admitted, taking a bite and a sip. He was a bachelor, and never actually made much of anything. "Did I have all of this, or did you go shopping?"

John watched and smiled at him. "I went out and got it. Figured we both needed a decent meal after last night." He pointed out.

He finished his tea and then got up to make himself another cup. The scars along his body could be seen better in the light of the day.

Sherlock stopped in mid bite, his fork still wavering in the air in front of him. He reached out, touching John as he brushed past to get more tea.

"What.. happened?" He asked in a low, almost breathy whisper.

John paused and looked at Sherlock. "I was a soldier. I suffer PTSD..." He said, "My time in Afghanistan was not a happy one."

Sherlock put his fork down and stood up, not caring that his sheet was falling off of him.
He stood in front of John and leaned down, kissing the site of the wound, gently, layering soft kisses and lightest of licks upon it.

"My brave, brave soldier." He said softly, giving it one more kiss before looking into John's eyes. He knew the man wouldn't want to talk about it, and he would never pry. He may open up about it in the future, and if he did, Sherlock would be ready to listen. But for now, he hoped that this was enough.

John raised his head to look at Sherlock. He smiled at him and reached up to stroke his cheek. "Thank you." he said before kissing him back.

He wasn't sure if he would ever be ready. But knowing the offer was there... It meant so much to him.

He hummed into the kiss, then gathered his sheet (as best he could, at least letting it pool around his waist as he sat down) and continued on with his breakfast. There was a little bit of an awkward air, Sherlock wasn't really sure what to say after that, so he just ate in a companionable silence.

John looked at Sherlock for a moment before he moved to start to clean up the mess that he had made with breakfast. His mind was wandering... Thinking about the should, coulda, wouldas... He set the sponge down and looked out the window over the sink.

He noticed that John's mind seemed a million miles away. He got up, not caring about his sheet this time, he stepped out of it and walked up behind John, wrapping his arms around the man's waist, kissing his neck gently, not sexually, but in a comforting way.

"John." He said simply, not even sure what else to say, He was content to be there for the man.

He tensed at the touch before relaxing back, letting out a breath. John sighed and reminded himself that this was Sherlock. Sherlock was safe. He brought a hand up and put it over Sherlock's. He closed his eyes, not saying anything. He wasn't sure how well the man would take to hearing what had happened to him when he had been kidnapped by the enemy soldiers.

Sherlock was silent, he let John linger there, with his hand over his for as long as he needed to. To some, it would seem an oppressive silence, but to Sherlock, it was comfortable, a comfortable, domestic silence, that they could share together.

"I was a POW for three months." John said after a moment. He let out a breath, not looking at Sherlock. He stared down at the sink, hand gripping Sherlock's tightly. He swallowed.

"I was grabbed because I'm a doctor. They wanted me to fix someone. I couldn't save him." No matter who it was, John was always the doctor.

Sherlock nodded his head, to show John that he was listening, but he stayed quiet, letting John continue in his own time, if he wanted to. There were a lot of questions that Sherlock wanted to ask, but he kept his mouth shut and continued with the physical contact. If John wanted to stop there, that was fine, Sherlock would never press him for more.

He couldn't bring himself to say anything more. He just closed his eyes and hung onto Sherlock. John swallowed and let out a breath.

The memories flooded and he couldn't help but start to buckle in Sherlock's arms.

Into the Night - AU - Locked to seaweed_writes

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