AN: This is the missing segment from my story Fantasy, Nightmare, Reality. I think you should read it but, you know, I wrote it. If the only thing you want is smut, CTRL F your way to "They bounced back"

I am ignoring the rules that say no MA stuff on FF. (I don't know why people just started listening to that). So if this disappears because they yell at me then I have an ao3 account with the same pen name/title.

Warnings: Swearing. M/M smut. Johnlock. Don't like, don't read. (I like, I read). Not beta-ed. I'm American. (Yeah that's a warning). Enjoy. (also a warning).

"I want you to know that neither of us are carrying each other over the threshold." John warned Sherlock as they neared the door to their flat. Sherlock opened it for him, rolling his eyes behind his back, as John rubbed the ache forming in his neck. He was going to have to ask Sherlock to fix that. He was always great with pressure points and it was his fault anyway.

John brought his hand up the back of his head and raked it over the front of his face, smiling to himself as he felt the cool smooth band of his new ring resting on his cheek. Pulling his hand away for a moment he used his thumb to spin it around and appreciate the gleam it provided. It was odd to see sitting there and felt heavy, only having rested there for the duration of a cab ride. He wondered how long it would take for him to get used to it or for people to notice. Did the cab driver notice it?

They both made their way up the stairs slowly, John slightly slower than Sherlock as Sherlock always seemed to have extra energy hidden away. All that dancing and he was still ready to take on the world. Well, he wasn't about to tell John the real reason for his excitement.

While the wedding had been a complete surprise to John, Sherlock had been planning it for weeks. It had been all he could think about every time he looked at John lying in bed as he waited for him to be well enough to participate. Which meant Sherlock had been waiting for this night for a very long time. John didn't even know the half of it.

"Well I hope you're not too tired." Sherlock teased, snaking his hands around John's waist and pulling him in as tight as possible. He had held him there for most of the night but he would never tire of keeping his John close, especially when he was wearing that tux. The seams lined up perfectly and the dark blue of his tie really brought out the color in his eyes. Completely acceptable. "We leave for the honeymoon in a few hours."

Sherlock had, surprisingly, planned the honeymoon according to the needs of his new husband instead of his own. While John had been relaxing over the past few weeks, as a necessity, it was not in the way the military man wanted. Sherlock tried to make the best of the situation for him but John couldn't enjoy being stuck in the flat. So, Sherlock booked a secluded place in New Zealand where John could relax properly before returning to the crazy life that put him in the hospital in the first place. Even if they decided they were done with relaxing -most likely he would be the one deciding when they tipped over the point of boredom- there would still be plenty to do at the place he chose. Perhaps a nearby village with crime? They would discover when they arrived.

Before they were to do that, Sherlock first planned on giving John a good reason to need to relax.

"What do we do till then?" John asked, rocking the rest of his body into the hold and scooping Sherlock's hips towards him. He could already feel the heat from Sherlock's center pressing against his trousers and he bit his lip in responsive desire. He hoped he was in for more wedding -perhaps consummation related- surprises as he turned his lustful eyes up and caught onto Sherlock's forever deducing pair, trying to give an obvious hint. From under his lashes he couldn't help but notice the hectic night had caused Sherlock's styled hair to fall back in front of his face and he felt the sudden need to reach up to push some of the wild curls back into place. So he did.

"Oh," John's hand ran to the back of Sherlock's head as he leaned forward and gently pressed his lips down, caressing up John's jaw line -the small bits of stubble scratching and catching at his mouth- until he landed at the soft of his ear. He dropped his voice down to a hoarse whisper and lowered it to the level he found -through many completely innocent experiments- would automatically make John hard as a flag pole. "I believe you can deduce that John."

The result was instant as John's hand, lost in Sherlock's hair, yanked hard and his other pulled their hips flush, revealing Sherlock's experimentation to have reliable consistency. Without another word John was smashing their mouths together, bringing his other hand up to grab the other side of Sherlock's, and pulling him even closer.

Many messy kisses and steps were taken as both stumbled from the living room to their bedroom. Sherlock was ripping off John's tie for the second time that night, throwing it somewhere on the floor, as John worked at undoing the buttons that held Sherlock's suit shut. In the craze of tongue and lips crashing against each other, neither noticed the door was closed and both smashed into it with a simultaneous grunt.

Only a brief moment was given for John to let out a short, shaky laugh before Sherlock closed that distance again, pulling John towards him as he fumbled with the doorknob behind him causing them both to tumble inside. Sherlock leaned back to close the door again, scooping John up with him and turning him so he was the one pinned. Too many times -and yet still not enough- had pinning John down proven to be a thrilling experience for Sherlock. The Captain wasn't one to be held down for long and the challenge to tame was something Sherlock enjoyed greatly.

Sherlock's hands flung to John's wrists, pinning them at his side against the hard wood of the door. A small playful growl emitted from John's lips causing Sherlock to smile and push John's head to the side with the rough of his chin to get better access at the bare skin of John's neck. He sent his teeth to nibble slightly at the exposed neck, only teasing, as his hands lifted to undo the buttons covering John's chest.

John breathed out happily as he pressed his palms against the back of the door to push himself up as high as he could. His time with Sherlock had taught him a few tricks about being with a taller person. For instance, horizontally height does not matter.

As Sherlock managed to pop the first button and make his way towards the second, John's eyes popped open and he let out another small laugh. He seemed unable to prevent such excited noises from coming out as the blissful state that chased him from the reception didn't seem to want to leave him anytime soon.

"You made the bed?" He asked half laughing, half shocked as Sherlock normally didn't find it a worthy thing to do.

Sherlock paused a moment to look over at their queen size memory foam, surprised he missed something like that when stumbling in. Of course he was rather occupied, but how could he have missed the rose petals? "No." There was really no reason to fix the bed up that day. Not with what he had planned. The rose petals were just completely unnecessary. "Mrs. Hudson." Sherlock provided the answer as she was obviously the only other one who had access to the flat that day. As much as she said she was not their housekeeper she could never break her motherly habits.

"Ah." John nodded thinking that she also knew about what the day would hold for both of them while he was left in the dark. She knew he was getting married before he did. He laughed internally at the thought rather than dwell on it and it was only at a second glance that he noticed the rose petals on the bed, coming to the conclusion that this was exactly what she must of had in mind, and chuckled out loud just as Sherlock's mouth reached his skin again. "She's not here is she?" He only asked because if they were headed in the direction where he really, really hoped they were then he would rather his elderly land lady was not around to hear it.

The question earned him an extra hard adrenaline spiking chomp on his neck causing an involuntary fling of his arms which shot out from his side to wrap into the back of Sherlock's dress jacket. The pull made the top of it slip from Sherlock's shoulders as he leaned to a proper position to to scold John. "She is still at the party. Now shut up, I'm busy." He went back down to baring his teeth into the stubble on John's neck, licking his tongue up the rough surface all the way up to the soft spot under his ear. Sherlock had to dip down even more when the John started bending from the tremors it send straight through to his knees.

"What if I want to be busy." John challenged and pushed off the door, flipping them around so he was free from the pin, grabbing Sherlock's dark purple silk tie and wrapping it around his hand until Sherlock's head tilted forward and he had his mouth in a victorious kiss.

Sherlock huffed, annoyed at how little time he had managed before John pushed him off, and pushed off the wall himself, running John back into the room. John blindly tripped backwards as Sherlock blindly walked forwards and before John could realize where he was, he was back to being pinned against another wall. Little did he know that Sherlock chose that spot specifically so that John would not simply throw him back onto their bed, like he had done previously in similar sessions.

With a bit of back and forth, Sherlock cleverly managed to loosen the knot on his tie curled around John's hand, distracting John in order to do so. Every time he rolled John's lip between his teeth he would push up on his heels and pull at the knot making it a complete surprise when he ducked down completely and slipped straight out. John only jumped for a moment at the sudden flash of Sherlock diving to his knees and popping back up again, his cock twitching automatically at the thought of Sherlock getting on his knees again.

John threw the empty tie aside and grabbed Sherlock by the bottom half of his jacket as the top had already fallen all the way to his elbows. With a bit of cooperation he reached out his hands and slid them down until Sherlock started to straighten out his own arms and let the jacket fall.

Before he could get a second to breathe Sherlock was already back on him, running his hands down his arms and sliding his own jacket down. John didn't even realize when Sherlock quickly unbuttoned the cuffs on the shirt bellow. Sherlock's hands just kept roaming everywhere, leading back to his chest and finishing what he started, untucking John's shirt along the way. Button after button popped from the nimble work of the violinist's fingers until all let loose and the fabric fell apart.

Cool air skimmed against John's now bare chest, replaced by Sherlock's warm hands scratching their way up his front and falling around his shoulders, tugging the shirt along with them. John's hips rolled forwards as the stinging tracks of his nails tightened the tension he felt inside. Frustrated, he rolled them again, searching for some kind of contact and breathed out a moan when they found Sherlock's leg and a wave of pleasure rushed through him. Sherlock pushed him back, rotated his hips to the side and gave John better access to his erection and therefore the friction they both sought. The reaction was immediate as the sensitive and restricted bulges made contact. Their simultaneous moans were not lost in the muffle caused by their lips being glued together.

A moment was taken as they pulled away and looked one another in the eyes. They were dark and heavy with the lust that filled the room but a secret communication was still held between the two.

Are you sure?

Oh God yes.

It was hard to tell who was actually asking and who was actually answering as they both had reason to ask and to answer the same. The boys had been pressing their relationship to the extreme in the time they had been together. It had only been a short while since Sherlock had returned and only in that short while that they were actually together. Sex was a subject that had been brought up -to Sherlock's annoyance- multiple times. The relationship had grown to be quite intense, very fast, but neither were ready for it before this night.

That is not to say the want was not there.

In the short time before John's 'accident' much had grown between the two. It was the first time either had had a relationship like this and it was new and it was exciting.

But there were issues.

The major issue for John was that he had to learn to trust Sherlock again. As much as he found himself falling back into habit, there were things he could not ignore. For one, there was the drug use. Sherlock had promised to stop, and had been on his way, but addictions were hard to break. John needed to help him more than he needed to push their physicality any further.

Then there was Victor. Sherlock had made a deal with Moriarty and Moran to stay with John in 221B though John did not know what that deal was. He did know Victor was a part of it. Sherlock would be called off randomly and disappear without explanation with Victor, only to return and ignore all of John's questions. John had accepted it but he still didn't trust it.

The worry John had that Sherlock would up and leave again at any moment was yet another reason for his trust issues. He had promised to stay but John knew that promise could be broken. Even the hospital showed that. The hospital also fixed that slightly. Even before the marriage, it was safe to say John trusted him completely already. Actually the marriage solidified that for John. While no vows were given, yet, he knew how big a step it was for Sherlock and what he was trying to say.

There were just other factors. The most obvious factor being that neither had been in a relationship quite like this. For John, it was about embracing his new found homosexuality and the new challenges it came with. The emotional commitment and relationship things, loving Sherlock, that all came easily but he had to wrap his head around the idea of being with a man. A man who he knew would be competitive and to want to run the relationship, even with no previous experience. It was not what John was used to but he was going to have to get used to it.

He was also going to have to get used to the idea of what others would say and how he could react to them. While they did not flaunt their relationship, he knew that people would notice and there were homophobes out there. He dealt with enough of them with his sister and got into enough trouble defending her. Only, at his age, he wouldn't just get kicked out of school. He would have to find a way to face those assholes when they came and protect Sherlock without getting arrested.

For Sherlock, it was pretty much the opposite. Sherlock did not care about what others thought and knew he could take down anyone he met with just the power of his words and his deductions. He knew John pretended not to care but he knew better and he wouldn't let anyone get away with a damn thing when it came to his John.

Physicality was nothing to be scared of for him. The human body was just that and he had done his research. The emotional commitment and relationship things were something he was learning about slowly. He was trying, for John's sake, but it was something difficult. Even facing how he felt about John, realizing it as soon as he returned home, was a lot to handle. It took him so long just to admit that he loved John back.

Even with these obstacle, they were all but a dirty dream from actually sleeping together.

When they started to share a bed it was all the more painful, waking up next to each other, hard as a rock. They hadn't shared it for long but it was the cause of many new experiments for both of them, most of them ending pleasantly.

There had been uncomfortable moments as well. Such as the time Sherlock admitted to taking John's samples without him knowing and testing them for STIs. Good news was that they were both clean, Sherlock already knowing he was himself, and John was a bit confused as to how that all happened.

Then there had been the time where Sherlock confessed as to how far he had actually gone before with others. Mycroft had called him a virgin and he didn't deny it. John had just always assumed it was true and in Sherlock's mind he was. Then he told John the story.

Sherlock had always been adventurous. As a youth, he wasn't going to let a little think like sex escape his experimentation. He had never really shown interest prior to the night he decided to see what fornication was about and he honestly didn't that night either. A few people had shown interest in him, being the mysterious and good looking kid he was. It didn't matter how many people he pushed away, some would always come back for more. One night, corrupted by his experimentation with alcohol, he had decided to take up a couple on their offer. Their offer to get the 'freak' into the sheets with them. It was his first time, he was half drunk, and he did not like it at all. He didn't like it with the girl or the boy and he never wanted to try that again. So he didn't.

Sherlock still phrased it as he never really had sex with anyone before John. Then he explained and John got a bit stuck on the subject. Really Sherlock just didn't count it as he was not in his right mind. John accepted a lot of things but he was not as understanding about this. Sherlock really didn't know why. It only happened the one time. They both let it go though. It wasn't really brought up again. Sherlock was sure John was being extra gentle with him and treating him like it was a traumatic experience, waiting on having sex until he was ready -no matter how many times he told John he was.

So they continued experimenting and pushing and just as soon as they started to push up even more, something would happen. Something always got in the way. Whether it be a call from Victor or Lestrade, or a realization for a case, or being stuck on a case, or being sick, or an ambulance flipping over (leaving John in no condition to push anything), it seemed that something always happened in their hectic lives. As much as they wanted to, they never got the chance.

Not until that night.

As soon as they came to that decision:

Are you sure?

Oh God Yes.

They bounced back into action.

Sherlock's hands pushed John's arms down as he rid him of the rest of his white shirt, ignoring it when the pesky thing stuck between John and the wall until John started rolling his hips against Sherlock's again and it slipped down between the movements, pooling on the floor, forgotten. John tried to return the favor, continuously pulling at the buttons holding Sherlock's shirt shut while rolling his hips, keeping his lips moving as Sherlock's pushed back. Then Sherlock darted his tongue forward, pushing John further into the wall, positioning his hands behind him as he ground his hips harder, making the man beneath him shake as he tried to manipulate his fingers against the tricky, silk covered buttons.

With a groan mixed in frustration and pleasure, John took his mouth away from Sherlock's and placed his forehead against his as he looked to his fingers and mentally commanded them to start working properly while Sherlock continued to pound him up the wall, knocking him against the sheetrock. Each distracting thrust made the heat spread through him quicker, taking his concentration with it and making him lose focus on what he was doing. He growled with half a thought to just rip the damn shirt if it would mean it was off.

"Do it." He heard Sherlock order from above him, his voice commanding even while lost between gasps sucked in through closed teeth. Well, that was one order the Captain could take. He stopped fumbling and gripped a side of the shirt, one in both hands, and pulled apart hard. Buttons could be heard falling to the ground but it was lost on both of them as their lips found each other again and so did the newly uncovered flesh on both their toned chests.

Sherlock was done with the teasing and wanted to reach all he could of John properly. The only way to do that was to get him off his legs. Grabbing either side of John's face he started to walk back. Their tongues faltered as their bodies fumbled and yet their intentions were stable as Sherlock managed to slip off his shoes and felt John bounce as he followed suit. The smaller man also managed to reach up and grab the back of the ripped shirt still hanging onto Sherlock and in one rough tug he tore it from behind. It caught on the cuffs that were still buttoned but another good tug and those buttons ended on the ground as well as the others.

With a twirl, reminiscent of the spins they made dancing earlier, John landed flat on his back on their bed, his legs hanging off the edge. Before he could even think of moving to a better position, Sherlock was there between his legs running his mouth all along his torso. John let himself sink into the foam and sigh against Sherlock's mouth as he paid extra attention to the body laid before him, running his lips in randomized lines and circles, stopping only at John's most sensitive areas, making him wriggle even more under his touch.

John continued to favor vocal reactions, sliding his body in any direction Sherlock planned to point him, until he felt his mouth travel up to his shoulder and run his lips over to the dark scar that webbed out from the bullet that had brought him back to London. Sherlock always made a note to pay extra attention to this scar above even the most reactive parts of his body as it was the one that had brought him John. He wanted to tell John how sorry he was it happened but also how happy he was that he was there with him. All he could think to ever do was gently run his mouth along the harsh pattern, giving it gentle kisses and small passes with the tip of his tongue.

It always slowed them down a bit but neither minded. John always knew what Sherlock was thinking while he spent his time there and he wanted him to know he felt it to. He took the chance to run his hands up Sherlock's arms, glide them up and slide onto the freshly exposed skin on Sherlock's back, dipping with the bones and contours of his shoulder blades. John would never get over how smooth his skin was. Even with all the scars he had obtained in one ridiculous way or another, he stayed perfect.

They had shared many stories as they grew to know each others' bodies. They each had a few of the usual scars: fell out of a tree, bitten by a dog, fights from high school days or a pub, knife in the kitchen cutting vegetables. Also, they each had a few of the unusual: bullet wound, knife fight gone wrong, chasing after criminals, ambulance flip, drug use, chemical experiments, burn from torture. Each mark brought about a story and with it a reason to care even more. So John let his finger tips move gently, tracing all those stories until Sherlock felt content with what he was doing and moved back to trying to make John squirm.

It started innocent enough, lips moving down, little nibbles here and there, then Sherlock decided to go lower. He mouthed the soft skin of John's stomach, slipping his tongue forward and sucking it between his teeth. Each new movement sent a jolt of desire through the receiver, causing his hips to involuntarily jerk forward like they had when he was pinned. Sherlock grinned into John's underbelly, making sure that he kept his distance and that no matter how much friction John's body was seeking he wouldn't get it, earning him a frustrated grunt.

The more John shook under his touch, the more Sherlock wanted to push him. He circled his mouth down until it hovered just over the edge of John's trousers, stuck out his tongue, and slid it just along the outside -only pausing to push John's hips back into the bed. Another, louder, sound of irritation emitted from the man on his back but before John could try and press himself up any further Sherlock's tongue was already gone and licking a line up to circle around his left nipple which had been found to be rather distracting. While the rough of Sherlock's tongue worked in a circle, already making the nipple pebble beneath it and John's body rise with every swipe, John secretly worked on removing his socks with his toes. Each new lick caused another pull to spiral out from his member and all muscles around it contracted with his tremors but he was able to get the task done.

With a bound -not even Sherlock saw coming- he pushed up, turned them both and managed to twist Sherlock until he flipped with his back landing on the bed instead. Before either could make another move, petals started falling down from the sky, turned up from the wind the sudden movement caused. John watched silently as two landed on the side of Sherlock's face and he huffed in annoyance as John chuckled from the hovering position above him.

"Useless things. Why are they even here?" Sherlock groaned as he tossed the two from his face, only making them land in his hair. John bit down on his smile but was sure Sherlock could see right through it.

"I think they're meant to be romantic." He decided to do him the favor and reach forward to brush them out of his dark curls. Not noticing Sherlock's legs unwinding from beneath him.

"Romantic? They're a nuisance."

"Shut up." John said with a bit of a chuckle. He was always the romantic one anyway. Appreciated or not.

"Why don't-" In a flash Sherlock pushed off the floor and grabbed John by the waist pulling them both up to a sitting position with John straddling his lap, the move causing another wave of petals to fly through the air. "-you make me?"

John decided to take him up on that offer as the boiling blood rushing through his system egged him on. Ignoring Sherlock's desperate attempts to grind John down on him, he got up without a word and stood to the side of the bed. Using his 'captain's voice', as they were calling it, crossed his mind. It was always pleasant for him to watch Sherlock take the orders for a change and it was extra pleasing to see how Sherlock enjoyed it himself. But this night was different. This night was not about pushing the limits. This night was about the two of them. Together.

Sherlock was a bit shocked at John's sudden shift off the bed but allowed him to stand without much fight. For a moment he was worried that he did something wrong, that calling out the petals for being stupid made John mad, but John wasn't showing any signs of it. Sherlock twitched as he continued to stare as he was too brimming with the physical signs of want and lust and was very close to letting them overpower him. His skin was burning and his trousers were near breaking point and John standing there with the moonlight shining in from the window and sculpting his figure only made it worse. It took him quite a bit of will power not to reach out and drag his man back on top of him.

Sherlock was about to ask John what was wrong when John put a finger over his lips, effectively cutting off the question. Instead he knelt to the ground where Sherlock sat and ran his hands up the black fabric of his pants, over his knees and around to his thigh. Just as John had hoped, Sherlock seemed to be at a loss for words and he let his hands roam up higher, crossing over the bulge that was stretching the limits the trousers could take. John could feel Sherlock's cock twitch under his palm and in turn his did the same. John's fingers, now steady as he was not cracking sheet-rock, started to work at unhooking the pants and pulling them down.

He was purposefully not looking at Sherlock as he pulled down both trousers and boxers, sliding his hands against the lean muscle of his thighs and calves, pulling them around his ankles taking his socks with him, tossing it all somewhere off to the side. Because he was purposefully avoiding eye contact and focusing only on the miraculous sight of Sherlock's member being freed from its confinement and bouncing up in release, he could not see the stare Sherlock was giving him. Sherlock's thoughts had completely derailed the instant John's knees touched the ground. His hands gripped the formerly-made bed sheets and lips parted involuntarily at the thought of John taking him into his mouth. It was not unheard of for John to give oral sex but he appreciated the receiving end much more. In Sherlock's time with John, he had become rather skilled at the act and had indeed put John's oral fixation to good use. Sherlock was appreciative and enjoyed when John went down on him but he rather enjoyed all the sounds he could have John make. Sherlock usually was the one to present the situation first as he liked to perform more. It was a treat when John initiated.

Sherlock's fingers dug into the foam of the bed when he felt the restrictions release his lower half. All too quickly the chill of the room swept around his warm skin and goosebumps started to form on his flesh. Without a word John was back with his hands to bring the heat that was lost as he trailed his nails up and over Sherlock's thighs, circling around and tracing the hip bones of the naked man's body. Sherlock would never admit it out loud but the movement was kind of ticklish and confused his body as the hands kept tracing closer and closer to his aching erection before going back to the tantalizing movements.

John grinned as he could see all of Sherlock's muscles convulsing under his touch. Each circle he brought his nails in closer until he was raking them through the well trimmed curls framing Sherlock's member and he stopped. He leaned up further and gripped either side of Sherlock's hips, still refusing to look at him. Ignoring the need he had to stop teasing Sherlock and get rid of his own pants so he could jump up and fuck him already, he leaned down, down until only centimeters separated his parted lips and the tip of Sherlock's head. Pausing for a few moments he then let himself peek up for the first time at the man above him and open his mouth to let him inside. He took utter and complete satisfaction as Sherlock's mouth fell open followed by a swallowed gasp as Sherlock tried to look back at him but failed, his eyes fluttering behind his lids instead.

All the need in Sherlock's body rushed around and spiraled inside him as John's hot mouth took up the first few inches of his throbbing cock. Slowly, teasing again, John slipped out his tongue and circled it around every inch that he held inside. Again Sherlock's body reacted by jerking his hips which he felt firmly grasped back into place by John's strong grip as payback for Sherlock doing it earlier.

Rolling his lips around his teeth, John pulled back up and pushed down again letting the hot and wet feeling of his mouth send another curl down to Sherlock's toes. John could feel Sherlock want to struggle and push him faster though he had only just started. It was just the way he was. So he gave him the courtesy and picked up his pace while taking in as much of him as he possibly could, swallowing more and more, inch by inch. He kept in mind all he had learned, relaxing his throat and moving his tongue to support, all while keeping his lips tight. Each motion down brought more and more sound from the man struggling under his tongue so he figured he had to be doing something right.

Again he picked up the pace, dropping his hands from their grip on Sherlock's side and bringing one over to wrap around the rest of the length of Sherlock's cock. He moved his hand in motion with his head, bobbing up and down, and only glancing a few times to catch Sherlock twitching and ripping the bedsheets from their place. Satisfied as he was, John wanted to do even more. Remembering the trick Sherlock showed him, he slowed his movements down and wrapped his thumb into a fist on his free hand. Holding his thumb closed, he slowly lowered his mouth even more, guiding it down with the hand wrapped around his cock, slowly lowering down further and further until he could feel Sherlock's head brushing the back of his throat. He didn't move, only allowed himself to relax around it, breathing from his nose, swallowing around it, before moving again.

Sherlock was trying very, very hard not to push further back into John's throat as he felt the soft ridges within. It proved a challenge with John there, on his knees in front of him, wedding ring gleaming in his fisted hand, head bobbing back and forth, causing wave after wave of illogical need to ripple through him. After a few more bobs he couldn't take it anymore and tried to call for John to stop so he could bring him back and get them in a proper position where John would be the one panting uncontrollably.

"John-" It came out as a pleading groan and that only egged John on more as he started to pick up the pace again. "John I-" Another moan escaped him as John's tongue worked a particularly sensitive spot directly under his head and his hips rolled forward into his husbands mouth. "F-fuck-John-"

Not many things made Sherlock Holmes swear. John knew he would swear occasionally but only a little here and there, nothing ever really too bad. So when Sherlock really swore, losing all self control, all because of what John was doing to his body, John took it to heart.

And it was hot.

John hummed around the cock in his mouth in appreciation, causing another thrust from the hips below him. His own hips were aching for something, anything, to rub against as they were left to the emptiness of the floor. Taking a second to breathe, John popped his mouth off of Sherlock only to be grabbed quickly by either side of his shoulders and forced up into Sherlock's mouth.

Crushing down his lips Sherlock could taste himself there but couldn't have thought more on the matter because all he could see was the image of John there, kneeling, bobbing again and again. He pulled John up and off the floor, pushing up himself and tossing John back on the bed. He knew John was a bit surprised as he pushed him up even more, his head crashing into the pillows as he quickly undid John's trouser button and zip and raked them off his body, along with his boxers, and tossed them somewhere on the floor. Without so much as a hmph from John, Sherlock jumped forward and brought their nude forms together, quickly lining up his slicked erection with John's newly freed one.

A pleasure filled sigh escaped John as Sherlock whipped off his trousers and lay over him. Without needing to be told he was moving on top of him, grinding them together, causing pleasure and heat to pass between the two as John gripped tight to Sherlock's back and Sherlock gripped to the bedding by John's shoulders. Lips tried to press on lips but all of it became just too much and they allowed their swollen mouths a break as Sherlock continued to roll down and John continued to thrust up.

Pass after pass made them both shudder, breathy gasps and moans filling the space between them as the sensitive bundle of nerves at the tip of their erections ran into each other repeatedly. John's nails dug in deeper and he moved his hands lower as he pulled at Sherlock's hips and became more and more desperate to push the muscles past their teasing tension and into climax. He knew he wanted to push things further with Sherlock but his mind was clouded by the haze that fell over him and he couldn't think that far.

They had the entire honeymoon anyway.

However Sherlock, of course, was thinking past his haze and stopped the movement of his hips. John whined in frustration and Sherlock gave a small chuckle as he silenced the sound with another kiss. Keeping John as close to him as he possibly could, he rolled them to their side and reached back towards the nightstand where he blindly found the lube he had tucked away for this night specifically. He rolled John back over to his side and handed him the bottle.

Confusion passed over John's features as he held the bottle in his hand. It was a bit of the hormonal fog that was keeping him from making the connection rather than wondering what was in the bottle. He had used it before after all. The question on his mind though was; what now? They hadn't exactly talked about who would top and who would bottom and they were both trying new things so what was he supposed to do?

"Do you want me to...?" He left the question open ended but hoped Sherlock would answer soon as he was desperate to move along and get that high feeling back in his system.

"You should be on top John. You have the most experience with sex, including anal. Plus your experience with women means you are more comfortable in that position, especially for a first time." Sherlock explained as he saw the confusion in John's eyes, starting to trace a hand over John's open chest as he missed the contact they just had. Silly because it was only moments ago but only part of him was thinking rationally.

"Can we not-?" John groaned out with a sigh.

"You don't want to?" Sherlock asked, worried that John had changed his mind.

"No. Yes. I mean. Yes I want to." John stumbled around his words, trying to get the meaning across as he felt the heat start to recede and turn into an antsy tick instead. "Can we just not talk about my former sex life while we're...in bed...together?"

"If you are worried about me being jealous, I can assure you that I do not hold that emotion towards your former relationships. They are in the past and I see them that way."

"That's not what I meant." John gruffed, annoyed that the steamy heat he felt before was slowly starting to deflate. Sherlock's hand trailing him now only felt slightly ticklish instead of making him squirm with anticipation.

Sherlock cocked his head to the side as he tried to understand John's sudden lack of enthusiasm. He was still ready to go but it seemed John's mind had shifted to other thoughts. "You don't seem pleased to-"

"No. It's fine. Just...timing Sherlock." John half wanted to throw the lube against the wall he was so pent up. Something needed to happen or this night was going down fast.

"I've turned you off." Sherlock internally yelled at himself as he watched his blogger deflate moment by moment. Instead of answering him, John just coldly nodded his head and went back to turning the lube in his hands. "I can fix that." He said suggestively and it seemed to peak John's interest again.

Leaning down with a coy smile, Sherlock found John's ear and started whispering dangerously, slowly, seductively, in a way that John had never heard him talk before. Sherlock had always been rather one-wordy in the bedroom, never really taking to talking dirty, so he didn't know what to expect.

"I'm sorry John. I want you." He let his hand slide down from John's chest and slip further towards his groin, sliding over the curved muscles of his front. "I want you like I've never wanted anyone before. Like I'll never want anyone again." His hand teased John again by sliding ever so close to his erection but slipped it into his inner thigh instead. "I want you to take me John." He bit his nails into the sensitive skin and held it there, making sure John got every single word. "I want you to take me now. Take me, here, right on this bed. I want you to fuck me John." John gasped out loud on the word 'fuck' as Sherlock speedily brought his hand from John's thigh, wrapped it around his heated erection, and opened his mouth to pull at the lobe of his ear. The jump John made from so much stimulation gave him the instant gratification he needed so he started to move his hand up and down John's shaft to stimulate even further. "I want you inside me. I want you to dominate me as you thrust yourself into me over and over again -as I call out for you again and again. John. John-" He started to nibble on his lobe again as his voice broke to a desperate whimper. "John- John please. Please John. Fuck me. Please. I need you-"

John's breathing turned ragged as he listened to Sherlock murmur in his ear. Everything he was doing was too much so he closed his eyes and listened to every word, picturing what Sherlock would look like underneath him as begged for him to continue, crying out his name, fingers curling in the sheets- He wanted that.

Now.

"Sherlock-"

He whipped around and caught Sherlock's mouth before another filthy thing could slip out and make him completely lose his mind. To call it a kiss would be a laugh as Sherlock could barely do any reciprocating. John simply decided to attack his mouth without giving a moment to pause. He flipped Sherlock onto his back and pressed him into the mattress as he tilted his own body to get better access to the tube in his hand. He blindly popped open the top and tipped the gel onto his fingers. Closing his fingers in a fist for a few moments he decided it was just going to be warm enough and continued to slick up his digits.

Sherlock's legs had already started to spread underneath him as he closed the tube and dropped it on the bed next to them. Sherlock was still trying to catch up to John, completely pleased with his behavior, as he dragged him as close as possible, wrapping his long arms around the older man's torso and trapping him in. John's free hand, as his other was now trapped by Sherlock's, fumbled down and started stroking along Sherlock's perineum, rounding about his entrance in languid circles, contrasting what the rest of him was doing.

An extra hard squeeze with a bite of nail from Sherlock stopped him from his ferocious attack and had him focusing back on his hand. Slowing his mouth down and tilting to Sherlock's long neck he started biting softly, fully aware of Sherlock's member bobbing into him every time he made a movement. Taking his time to account for Sherlock's needs, he gently inserted his first finger and held himself there, only halfway down the digit. Sherlock did not protest so he continued to push his finger in as he bit down on the other man's neck, distracting him as much as he could.

It was what Sherlock had expected to happen. Of course John was rather skilled at it. At it with a basic logical level, Sherlock knew that John was a doctor and would understand the human anatomy as well as, if not better, than he. He also trusted John more than anyone else in the world. So as his body was trying to reject the idea of something being inside him, he closed his eyes and concentrated on the heat of the man half leaning on him and the sensation of his neck being sucked. Each motion John made with his finger pulling in and out relaxed him more and more, accompanied by a small flash of adrenaline as he felt teeth graze his skin with every move.

John tossed and fumbled with the arm half trapped by Sherlock until it was free and he could reach up to wrap it in Sherlock's locks. Without the support, his body tilted forward and his enthusiastic cock collided with Sherlock's side making him moan in pleasure as he gave Sherlock's hair a little extra pull. He was more than eager to hurry along the process even if he knew it was all for Sherlock's benefit.

Slipping out the finger he already had working Sherlock open, he added another lubed digit as he pulled at Sherlock's curls and moved to bite down on his shoulder -he was sure he already created a love mark on his neck. John knew Sherlock took pleasure in adrenaline rushes and they both knew from experience how they could divert someone's attention from any pain. He knew there would be at least some with a second finger added, even if Sherlock wouldn't admit it.

He wouldn't. The pain was bearable, especially with the large ball of hormones working him over. Then it took mere seconds for John to find the small bundle of nerves that made an involuntarily spasm trek through Sherlock's body. He could feel John smile into the dip of his shoulder where his mouth was currently working, multi-tasker that he was, before brushing up on that spot again, harder and swifter, combined with a pull of the hair and a large chomp of the teeth. There was no helping the groan that escaped his lips or the pull his nails made on the parts of John's skin where he still had a grip.

John moved faster inside of him, satisfied with the result so far, and bounced his lips off Sherlock's neck in hectic kisses until he found the ear he was looking for. Grazing his teeth against the lobe he matched a moan made from Sherlock as he made him writhe yet again. "Touch yourself." He whispered before trailing his teeth back down his jaw and neck again. All his hands were tied at the moment and he knew what would be in store for Sherlock next.

Slightly confused in the haze of hormones and chemicals flooding his mind, he didn't even question John as he lifted a hand from his body and brought it down to his own. Wrapping his hand around his need he started stroking himself, fingers trailing, as he matched John's speed. Another sigh of pleasure escaped him and John pulled his mouth away from his shoulder for a moment to say, "That's it", before licking a line down his pecks and gently biting there.

After a few more strokes from Sherlock, John decided it was time to add a third. He was already moving with Sherlock's body as he rocked into his own hand and with each move John rocked into his side. It was frustrating to care so much but that was all he could do with the man beneath him. Care. So he tried as gently as he could to slide in his third lubed finger but the reaction was not missed. Sherlock tensed from the uncomfortable and slightly burning pain but relaxed as he moved his hand again and as John gave a rather hard bite into the muscles over his chest. John moved at his slow pace, trying to get Sherlock to enjoy it again, as he moved his mouth to the very top of Sherlock's arm. By the next day he was sure Sherlock would be half bruises, if only on his left side.

Agonizing moments past before John could hear Sherlock's hisses of pain turn to gasps of pleasure. Flinging his hand from Sherlock's head he blindly searched for the lube he had dropped between them. As soon as he reached back he could feel Sherlock handing him the bottle with his free hand, as he already could tell what John had been thinking. John smiled a bit on Sherlock shoulder and gave him a quick kiss before kneeling up and removing his fingers from Sherlock's body. Popping open the lid, he was surprised to see Sherlock already reaching forward and stealing it from him, tipping an appropriate amount into his hand, grabbing quick and hard onto John's shaft, sliding the substance over every inch as he watched John's jaw drop open in pleasure.

Biting his lip, John started to pull away from Sherlock's magical fingers as he knew he wouldn't last much longer otherwise. He was already nervous about how long he could go as just the thought of Sherlock's tight ass surrounding him was pushing the limit of his control. With a silent motion he gestured for Sherlock to turn on his side but was greeted with a shake of the head. Panic flashed through his pleasure driven mind as he worried Sherlock was going against what he agreed, that he wouldn't be able to do all those things he asked of him in vivid detail.

Instead of explaining to John, Sherlock positioned himself better by inching towards the middle of the bed and dragging John's back on top of his body, distracting him with another messy kiss. When John was centered correctly he pushed him down and bent up his legs showing John exactly what he wanted. He wasn't an idiot. He knew it would probably hurt more, especially for a first time, but he didn't want to miss a single look John would have during the experience. He wanted to look him in the eyes and feel everything he possibly could. He wanted to remember this.

"Are you-" John started to ask, finally figuring out what Sherlock was thinking, but was cut off yet again by Sherlock as he reached forward with both arms, simultaneously pulling John and grabbing his cock between his fingers, leading him straight down so the head was caressing his newly stretched entrance.

Nothing further needed to be said as John leaned on one arm, pushed Sherlock's arms onto him, and made sure his hands wouldn't leave his body. Propping himself up to a better position, Sherlock allowed John to position him how he wanted and waited but nothing came. A look down showed John was waiting to catch his eyes. The look said absolutely so much.

They were both there, in that moment, together, and actually married -though that was still a thought that they had to wrap their heads around. No one was stealing them away, there was nothing else to worry about. They were home, they were safe, and they were with each other. Lost in each other, filled with nothing but the lust they had and the bond they shared. It wasn't easy for either of them to reach this point and they both appreciated what it meant.

"I love you." Sherlock hummed out as he carded his hand through John's hair, ridding any from sticking to the sheen of sweat on his forehead.

John smiled and turned his head to catch Sherlock's hand and kiss his palm. "I love you too."

Sherlock pulled John down to him and they both took a moment outside of themselves to share a passionate and languid kiss that rivaled their bodies' desires. Lips danced together over and over until John leaned down too much and their forgotten members slid against one another. A huff came from them both and the kiss turned to one with a little more aggression before John pulled away and they both positioned themselves again.

A quick glance from them both, their dark eyes meeting, and John started to push inside. He could feel Sherlock's hand crush into his skin, as he had expected it would, but continued to push in slowly and paused only when he knew Sherlock's prostate was within touchable distance. Sherlock was trying to hide his discomfort but after a moment he got a small nod and continued to slide inside.

It was almost too much as he was enclosed completely, his lower abdomen brushing against Sherlock's skin. Every small move Sherlock's body made rubbed up against him in the tight, hot pressure that surrounded him and took over his system. Each small twitch was enough to make the fire spread and his muscles curl. He wanted nothing more than to move back and really take him for his own but the death grip Sherlock had on his arms made him think more logically.

John was filling him up inside and there was that stretching and burning sensation again. It was much stronger than when John was preparing him and he couldn't help the thoughts his mind had about pushing John out but he wouldn't let his body control him. Forcing himself to relax he nodded again and breathed out as John started to move.

Only gently would John allow himself to pull out and push back in, working his way up. Every time Sherlock shook it would send another ripple of pleasure through him, spurting out from his abdomen, and he wanted to chase after that. He allowed himself to pull out more and push back in, being wary that in a few moments Sherlock would certainly feel his prostate rubbing against him and all his discomfort would long be forgotten.

A few forcibly languid thrusts later and Sherlock could feel John pulling out to the point that he was almost completely gone before filling him again. It only took him doing that twice before he could feel John's cock sliding against the bundle of nerves within him and a whimper escaped his mouth. John took the noise and ran with it as he picked up his pace, trying to hit that same spot over and over.

While John was not as attentive as Sherlock in everyday life, he was attentive when it came to love making. With each plunge he made he managed to make Sherlock writhe as another dizzy sensation crossed his body. The pleasure started to outweigh any other thought and his voice was lost to the intelligible panting he was making, so John continued to quicken his pace until he was pounding into him, colliding their bodies together again and again, lost in the motion.

Gasps were lost to moans when John reached forward and scooped Sherlock's bouncing cock into his hand. Everything was muddled to John as the feeling in his body started climbing higher and higher. Sherlock was so tight around him and every thrust sent an overload of those orgasmic pulses to his extremities. He knew he wasn't going to last much longer. He moved his hand up and down Sherlock's erection to match his own hectic speed until he felt Sherlock's hand wrap over his own.

Looking up at his husband, John saw how much Sherlock was also feeling. It wasn't every day he got to see Sherlock so sprawled out and out of control. Each twist and twitch that came from the younger man only added to the sensation building up inside him. Throwing his hand back onto the bed and using the leverage, he started to ram into him even faster crashing them together again and again.

Sherlock threw his head to the side and moaned as John fucked him into the mattress. He worked his hand, pumping his own cock as the other gripped to the bedsheets by his side. The pleasure inside himself had been growing as he already had been pushing back against John and the added element of a hand jerking him off only elevated it. Building and building he could feel his body start to shake and the pull of his muscles start to spread out from his center and he tried to make a noise to warn John but it only came out as another, louder groan as he looked towards the man thrusting in and out of him. It was a lost cause and he came out over his stomach in one large explosion of pleasure.

John hearing and seeing Sherlock's orgasm sent him completely over the edge that he had been teetering on since the start. As the fluidity of his motions faulted, with a half attempt at calling out Sherlock's name, his body shook and the ecstasy spread as came within the man below him and felt the heat overtake him as he slowed his pace down to a stop, fell on top of Sherlock and rested his head against his chest.

After a few minutes of catching their breath and soaking in the post orgasm glow, John leaned up and gave a sated kiss which was returned with just as much satisfaction. Pulling himself from Sherlock's body, he leaned up and grabbed the tissues for them both, throwing the lube back towards the nightstand as well. Sherlock sighed at the lack of John filling up his body and groaned internally at the consequences he could already feel starting to creep up as small amounts of pain crept through him when he shifted back to the middle of the bed. It seemed, in John's eagerness, they had in fact moved quite the distance.

John rolled back to Sherlock side as they shared another lazy kiss before wrapping each other up in an embrace. John chuckled slightly as he ran his hand across Sherlock's bare back.

"What?" Sherlock asked laughing a bit himself, no doubt due to the post orgasm high.

"There are rose petals all down your back." Another laugh came when Sherlock rolled his eyes, shifted to lay on his back, and John laid his head on his chest.

Reaching out with his left hand John found Sherlock's as well and started playing with his fingers, clicking the new bands that touched with their fingers wrapped together. He was going to have to get used to that as well.

"Was that-?" John wasn't sure if he should even be asking such a silly question but it was Sherlock's 'first' time and he wanted to know what he was thinking.

"Yes." Sherlock stopped John's worries and continued to separate his fingers for John to analyze his own wedding ring better. "You?"

John chuckled silently at how ridiculous that question really was coming from Sherlock. "I can't think of anything that would make this more perfect."

"I can."

"You can?" John turned back onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow to see exactly what Sherlock had in mind.

"More pointless romance." John couldn't decide if he was kidding with him or if he was actually serious. "Wait there." Sherlock got up with a smirk and walked to the window where he pushed the curtains closed completely. He noticed he was even more sore when he walked but he knew it would be worth it to see John's reaction. He could rest himself on the plane.

"What? More pointless romance?" John asked sarcastically as he threw a handful of rose petals he collected off the bed. "I didn't think you had it in you. Wasn't asking me to marry you enough for the day? Oh wait. You didn't ask."

Sherlock smirked again and rolled back into bed, scooping John next to his side. "Shut up and clap twice.

"Clap twice?"

"Do it."

John looked at Sherlock, completely confused, but he was never one to not do what Sherlock asked, so he clapped. Instantly the completely dark room was filled with lights and the ceiling was covered in-

"Stars?" John asked with awe. These were not some kid's night light type of stars. If it weren't for the objects being illuminated in the room John would have thought he was looking at the actual sky. Slowly the lights started to shift around and John needed to blink more than once as they literally started to float in the center of the room. "You crazy bastard. Holograms?" John was completely dumbstruck as he reached out to the nearest one and his fingers passed through the light. Only looking closely did he see the system set up against the floor, ceiling, and walls. He really wasn't paying attention when they fell into the room earlier.

"I know how you appreciate the stars." Sherlock tilted his head more so he could appreciate the awestruck look John had as his eyes bounced around the room. "I thought you'd want to see them on your wedding night."

"You romantic sap." John teased as he rolled over and grabbed Sherlock up in a death defying kiss.

Only when Sherlock had a second to breath did he sputter out, "Though I don't see how this is romantic. All it is, is a system of-"

Another kiss from John had Sherlock flat on his back and at a loss for thought. "Shut up." John smiled against the other man's mouth.

All Sherlock could do was oblige. He continued to run his hands back over John as he calculated how much time they had before they had to pack, shower, and leave for their plane.

They had enough time for a night under the stars.