A/N This is literally just solid fluff....I felt really fluffy tonight so I wrote this teeth rotting story! Enjoy <3
John was having a rough day. After cutbacks at the clinic, Sarah had pulled him aside and informed him that they were letting him go. Then he had been unable to get a cab and was forced to walk home. It was far too late to catch a bus and there was a harsh chill to the air. He wanted nothing more than to get home, have a hot bath, and try to sleep. He finally reached the familiar door of the flat and made his way inside. He wearily walked up the stairs and into the warm, coziness of his flat. He pulled off his coat and looked around the flat, catching sight of Sherlock sitting at the kitchen table, fiddling with his microscope. He smiled softly and shuffled into the kitchen, squeezing the shoulder of the man hunched over the piece of equipment. He heard Sherlock's shocked hum and smiled, turning to put on a pot of tea. He felt firm hands grip his waist and pull him in for a warm hug. He sighed and leaned back into the taller man's embrace.
"Welcome home, love." He felt Sherlock's lips brushing along his neck as he spoke, pressing soft kisses to the sensitive skin there. He hummed closed his eyes, enjoying the soft attention his husband was paying him. It wasn't often Sherlock showed this kind of affection, and if it didn't feel so damned good, John would have been suspicious. "Sarah called; she said you forgot to clean out your locker before you left." John tensed against Sherlock, suddenly remembering why he had been so upset. "What happened at work today?" He whispered against John's neck, still pressing kisses to the skin, trying to make John relax again.
"I got fired." John spoke softly, not fully trusting his voice to not waiver. He felt Sherlock freeze against him. They had discussed the necessity of John working several times. It was a source of tension between them for many years. "Please don't gloat, or make any snide remarks, I am really not in the mood-"
"I am so sorry, John." Sherlock's soft voice interrupted him, causing him to freeze. Sherlock's firm hands spun him around and pressed him against the counter, the roughness of the action making him gasp. Sherlock's hands gripped his shoulders tightly and he leaned down just enough to look into John's eyes. Even after seven years, John couldn't help feeling weak at the sight of those eyes. "I know how important that job was to you, and as happy as I am that you will be here more often now, I realize that my comments are unwelcome." John felt his chest tighten at the words his husband spoke, his eyes starting to fill with tears. "If I could, I would buy you your own clinic just to make you smile." John couldn't help but giggle at Sherlock's words. Sherlock grinned back, that special grin he only ever blessed John with. "There is that smile I love seeing." John flushed, Sherlock never talked like this. He wasn't a very affectionate man, except after sex, he then became a huge tangle of soft, cuddly limbs.
"I love you, Sherlock Holmes."
"I love you more, John Watson-Holmes." John grinned at Sherlock. He loved hearing his name falling from those perfect lips. He leaned up and pressed his lips against his husbands, his hands finding bony hips to pull the man he loved closer. Sherlock sighed against him and deepened the kiss, pressing against John's shorter frame. John threaded his fingers into Sherlock's curls, reveling in the soft moan that he pulled from the taller man. He used his grip on Sherlock's hair to pull his head to the side and attach his lips to the length of pale skin now exposed to him. He could feel Sherlock start to tremble against him. Sherlock was a sensitive person, the nerves in his skin making it so very easy to make him lose control.
"John-" Sherlock's breathy moan made his knees weak. He ran his teeth along the pale skin; hunting for the pulse he knew was racing. He found his target and sucked on the throbbing skin harshly, pulling the vein between his teeth and biting ever so softly. Sherlock gasped, his hips bucking forward and hands scrabbling for purchase against John's sides. He pulled away from John's grip, breathing heavy and trembling. John felt a pang of disappointment at the loss of contact, tightening his grip on his husband.
"John, as much as I am enjoying this, I have other plans for you tonight." Sherlock sounded breathless and John chuckled. He was the first and only person to see the great detective in this state, and he loved every second of it.
"I like the sound of that, what did you have in mind, my love?" He growled, trying desperately to pull the thin man back into his reach.
"First, I am going to draw you a bath, then, I am going to order us some food. And then, we are going to go to bed." John stopped what he was doing and looked up at his husband.
"What?"
"You had a rough day, and I know that when you come home from a bad day you like to have a hot bath. I went out earlier and retrieved some bath salts that are supposed to help aid stress release and relaxation-" John cut him off with a deep, passionate kiss. He loved this strange man with every fiber of his being.
"I can't believe you went shopping for bath salts." John giggled, resting his head against Sherlock's firm chest and letting the laughter rip through his body.
"Shut up and go get ready for your bath." Sherlock pulled away and pushed John towards the bedroom, slapping his ass as he went, causing John to yelp and giggle uncontrollably. He came into the bathroom a few minutes later to find Sherlock kneeling in front of the tub, testing the temperature with one of his thermometers. John chuckled affectionately at the sight. Of course Sherlock knows what temperature he like his water at. Sherlock stood and spun to face him, a huge grin on his face. He stalked over to his husband and wrapped him in a huge hug, pulling more giggles from John. Sherlock was the only person John had ever met that could make him giggle like that.
"Would you consider joining me?" John mumbled against the taller man's chest, looking up into those soft eyes hopefully. It had taken him forever to convince Sherlock that baths were even better when enjoyed together.
"Of course, my love, that was my plan." Sherlock winked and started pulling at John's sweater. John let himself get undressed by the perfect man before him. John always felt slightly uncomfortable when he let Sherlock do this, feeling self-conscious under his scrutinizing gaze. He had done this their first night being intimate, and even after all this time, Sherlock acted like he was just seeing John's form for the first time. "You are so perfect John." Sherlock mumbled, pressing soft kisses against the skin of his chest. John felt a cold spark running along his spine and shivered with anticipation. It didn't take too long before he found himself sitting in the tub, leaning back against the firm chest of his husband. Normally, Sherlock sat in front, but today he had insisted on sitting behind John, using his strong fingers to massage his neck and shoulders, pulling moans and sighs from the army doctor. The water smelled lovely and definitely seemed to do the trick in relaxing him. They relaxed in the tub until the water cooled. As they climbed out and dried themselves, John watched his husband, his chest swelling with love and pride. Sherlock aggressively rubbed a towel through his curls, sending them flying in various directions. He caught sight of John staring at him and a flush spread over his cheeks, turning his porcelain skin pink.
"I love making you blush, have I ever told that?" He grabbed Sherlock by the hip and pulled him in for a soft kiss, sucking on his bottom lip and making his partner moan softly.
"You may have mentioned that a few times." Sherlock's voice was low and breathy as John moved along his jawline, leaning up to gently bite his earlobe. Sherlock moaned and started trembling against John again.
"You are so sensitive my love." John whispered in Sherlock's ear, running his fingers along his husband's ribs, loving the feeling of the strong man quivering against him. Things were starting to get heated when a knock at the door drove the two men apart.
"Damn it. I forgot about the food." Sherlock groaned, pulling away and throwing his robe on. He pressed another soft kiss to John's lips before hurrying to answer the door. John pulled on his robe as well and made his way into the kitchen to gather the plates and silverware. The two men curled up together on the sofa, enjoying their food and giggling about the antics of Matt Smith as the Doctor. John wound up falling asleep in the arms of his loving husband, his troubles from earlier all but forgotten. Sherlock Holmes may not be the most affectionate husband in the world, but he would rather die than see his John miserable. John Watson surely was the luckiest man alive.
