Into the Night - AU - Locked to seaweed_writes

[ihadabadday]

Sex sold. It could be seen in marketing for businesses across all sorts of industries.

And for John Watson, his business was booming.

He worked out of a club in London that catered to certain... Tastes. Men and women who looked to dominate someone sexually. Some would look down on a man having that job, scoffing. Sex work was legal though. But those who were interested in BDSM, found sex workers to be lacking.

John was sitting at a bar at the club he usually worked out of, nursing a soda. He rarely drank when he was working, preferring to stay sober.

He looked around the room, seeing if there was anyone who caught his interest tonight.

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[ihadabadday]

John walked over to Sherlock and kissed his cheek. "I'll be back soon." He promised.

He left the flat and headed to his flat to get some clothes. And other things.

[seaweed_writes]

The moment John was gone, he texted his brother.

What the hell was that about in the park, trying to scare John off, and why did he recognize you from Afghanistan?

[ihadabadday]

I was merely curious. He was quite the soldier. And that's state secrets.

John walked down the street until he got to the entrance for the Tube. He hummed softly as he paid. Mycroft Holmes. Why hadn't he made the connection sooner? The man had seen him shortly after he had been shot and Sebastian Moran had been apprehended.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock frowned. State secrets. Sure.

Seems like an awful strange coincidence, doesn't it? Though the world is rarely that lazy. Your words, brother mine.


There was something more going on here, Sherlock was sure of it, But what? It wasn't like him to not be able to put the pieces together. Of course, if anyone could keep him on his toes and guessing, it was Mycroft.

[ihadabadday]

I happened to be in the area to bring home a wanted criminal.

John got off the Tube and bounded up the steps to the street level. He was happy. Sherlock was making him happy. It was an odd feeling.

[seaweed_writes]

Just happened to be.

And now, one of the soldiers from this mission to apprehend a wanted criminal, which I am sure was successful, was seen int the company of none other than your little brother. And what does the British Government have to say about that?

[ihadabadday]

There was no answer from Mycroft.

John packed a duffel and then left the flat. He would get the rest of his things. For now he had clothes and his laptop. He started back to the Tube station.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock waited for a witty retort, but when it was clear that one was not coming, he threw his phone onto his chair and went back to the kitchen, where he had set up a rather interesting experiment involving bee pollen and cat dander. He lost himself in the microscope, in The Work, and lost track of time.

[ihadabadday]

John returned to the flat and saw Sherlock was busy. So he went into the bedroom. He began to unpack, putting his clothes in a neat like.

He would wait for Sherlock to see where things could go.

[seaweed_writes]

There was a small part in the back of Sherlock's brain that heard John come back in, and he knew that he was supposed to say something, but the rest of his mind was so preoccupied with what he was doing, that it was immediately overruled, and he continued The Work.

It was hours later, already getting into the late afternoon when he finally completed his experiments. He wrote the last of his results down, and leaned back in the chair, a satisfied sigh escaping his lips.

That's when the rest of his brain kicked in again.

He got up fast enough to toss the chair to the floor.

"John?" He looked around desperately for the man.

[ihadabadday]

"Yes?" John's voice came from the living room. He had made himself comfortable in a chair and was browsing on the internet.

He set the computer to the side and got up. He made his way over to the kitchen. "Are you okay?"

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock had no idea why he had suddenly just felt so empty. He let out a long breath that he didn't even know he had been holding.

John was here, he was safe, he wasn't in some camp in Afghanistan being shot at, or being shot. That was before Sherlock had even known that John Watson existed, and yet.

It still filled him with fear.

He couldn't stop the soft smile on his face when he saw John come into the room. He closed the distance between them and kissed him deeply.

"Yes, I do believe that I am now."

[ihadabadday]

John returned the kiss and then pulled away. He reached up and ran a hand through Sherlock's hair. "I didn't like the frantic look on your face." He admitted.

Running into Mycroft had jarred him a little. It brought back memories he didn't want. So he settled for kissing Sherlock again.

[seaweed_writes]

"I guess... I was just too deep inside myself." It was about the closest to an apology that Sherlock normally got.

He leaned into the fingers in his hair. Normally he couldn't abide by anyone but himself touching the carefully coiffed curls, but John.. well, John was another story.

Sherlock eagerly returned the kiss, spreading his fingers against the back of John's head, pulling him closer even as he ducked his head down to deepen the kiss. It wasn't easy having someone 15cm shorter than you, but they seemed to make it work out alright.

[ihadabadday]

John made a soft noise. Being tugged and pulled and maneuvered made him a little weak in the knees. Images of being pinned to the wall, his legs around Sherlock's waist as the man had him flashed through his mind.

Or sitting on the counter with Sherlock crowding his space and kissing him.

He whimpered softly into the kiss.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock broke the kiss and looked at John, a salacious smile on his face.

"You're thinking about sex on the counter. I saw your eyes cant over there, and then back to me." He said in a low, sly, sexy voice. "You want me to sit you up there and have my way with you, don't you?" He was almost growling now.

Sherlock pressed his hip up against John's so he could feel what the man was doing to him, just thinking about what they could debauch in his kitchen.

[ihadabadday]

John whimpered and nodded. He had been. The counter, the wall, bent over the table, on the floor. Being made to cook with nothing but an apron and the ever present butt plug inside him.

He pressed his hips back against Sherlock's, gasping. Oh fuck.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock smiled again. He excelled at reading people, and John was a man who wore his heart on his sleeve, if you could look past the silly woolly jumpers he seemed to like wearing. Even only after a few days of knowing him, he could see the man's thoughts, his intentions.

"Well then, John Watson. Get the hell on with it." He backed John up until his arse was against the counter. Sherlock had a wiry strength, he probably could have hauled John up there bodily, but he preferred not to possibly hurt his back,so best to let John do it himself.

[ihadabadday]

John whimpered and then nodded. He backed up until his arse hit the counter. He hauled himself up onto the counter. He spread his legs, inviting Sherlock in.

He didn't mind that Sherlock could read him. It resulted in fantastic sex.

[seaweed_writes]

It was so hard to turn off this part of him, the part that wanted to dominate John, to fuck him against the back splash behind the counter, and give a shit about the mess they were about to make.

But he had promised John, not outside a scene.. and he took a second to compose himself before he stepped forward. He was still wearing his clothes, well, they both were, but that would be remedied soon. The only problem was that the counter was a b bit high, he would have to be up on his toes to be inside John, that was not really going to work long term.

But.. at least they could start here...

[ihadabadday]

John licked his lips as he watched Sherlock step closer. He bit his lip, moaning.

"Sir..." he whined.

He loved it when Sherlock dominated him, took him without remorse. He shuddered and squirmed on the counter.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock's eyes widened, and then grew hard and cold.

"Do you want... a scene?" He asked. He hated that he had to pull John out of the moment a bit by asking, but he was never, ever in all the years that he lived, going to assume that he was getting into a scene with someone without expressly asking first, so he knew exactly what to expect.

And if it broke the moment for a short time, so be it. It was worth it for not having any miscommunications or worse later.

"Use your words like a big boy..." He teased, pretty much already knowing the answer. It was a bit of a break from his own rules, but mostly harmless banter, not getting into anything hot or heavy yet, until John confirmed it.

[ihadabadday]

He let out a breath and nodded. "Yes. Please." He appreciated that Sherlock asked. He swallowed and shifted. He could feel the plug inside him move. It was... It was huge and pressing and it made him ache.

Knowing he had Sherlock's come trapped inside him, filling him. It marked him. Reminded him who he belonged to.

[seaweed_writes]

"Alright." He said, in a soft, calm voice. That was the last of that, though. In an instant, he was the dom, his eyes cold and distant, his posture straight, his voice firm, demanding, no nonsense.

"You know the position, boy. Get to it." The warmth in his tone was gone. In its place was a voice that he knew that John dare not disobey. He had done so once, and he knew what the punishment was.

[ihadabadday]

He slid off the counter and dropped to his knees in front of Sherlock. John lowered his head and put his hands on his thighs.

The blonde swallowed. He was aching, his cock pressing against his trousers. He wanted to be fucked, to be held down and used as nothing more than a glorified Fleshlight.