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Valentine’s Day was a special day for sex demons. Prey and donors would usually give so much more if provided with sufficient stimulation. But for the rare demon that was mated or bonded—which was even more unusual—it was like they were gifted with a years worth of energy just waiting to be shared.
Sherlock knew that John didn’t expect much from him as human traditions went, but he was in for a surprise. He had learnt from his Mummy and grandparents and great-grandparents, since his was from an old and respected royal family, that it was important to do special things—even if they were also annoying—for those they had chosen. And it was particularly important to do so on the days that their mates had the natural predisposition to be more generous if properly treated.
So, he decided to wake up John by kissing him very slowly on the lips and letting the tip of his tongue play along the man’s neck. The former soldier smiled in his half-dazed state before opening his eyes.
“Morning, Sherlock…” he greeted with a soft voice and put his hand on the other’s nape to bring him to his mouth and give him a soft peck on the lips.
Things had finally stabilized a little between them. The consulting detective was better at concealing his possessive and jealous tendencies so they could, once again, go to crime scenes and be among other people. Moreover, the sexual need and constant arousal they had experienced during the first months had finally subsided, letting them have more space to and between themselves. Still, the physical closeness while alone had stayed but the brunette had been more like his old self while they were outside. Even though, now and then, he gave the smaller man quick pecks on the lips or put his arm around the other’s waist (particularly when someone tried to flirt with his mate).
Not that Watson paid any attention to these small quirks but he knew Sherlock had the need to show, in a non-threatening way, his claim on him. When things went from bad to worse there was always an old incubus or succubus whom he would direct towards the intruder. His strategy had made him quite popular among his race and some had come directly to him to ask being taken into account if the time came…
The doctor still had to get used to the younger Holmes not hiding his protective nature anymore. Of everything, it had been the most challenging issue to deal with, since John always felt it was his place to be Sherlock’s shield and he now found himself being the one sheltered. They had quite a row about it, until the taller one had hugged him and explained he would try to tone it down, but that he thought his mate would be glad that the fussing and worrying went both ways. Of course, the blond man couldn’t argue with that logic and he had smiled and kissed the other, letting things become quite heated between them.
Today the consulting detective had decided on a special plan. So, once he made sure the doctor was wide awake and his neck softly marked—since he had only sucked on the sensitive skin—he moved out of the bed, making the other open his eyes in surprise.
“Sherlock?” Watson asked, uncertain if he had done something wrong.
“Come on, John, we have things to do!” he exclaimed when the man failed to rise.
The blond was just too nice to tell him what he thought at the moment, but the younger Holmes certainly knew it wasn’t very flattering. He gave the man one of his mysterious smiles and he knew the other would do what he wanted, since the former soldier still loved danger.
The blonde tried for a resigned look before standing up and walking to the bathroom. Sherlock had made a mess of him the night before and he wished to take a shower prior to them being thrown into whatever the brunette had thought of.
Once under the spray he wondered when and if his mate would join him. Watson tried to pretend he wasn’t a little disappointed at being left alone for as long as it took to soap himself up. Usually by now the consulting detective would be all over him, caressing his body and preparing him for a quick and satisfying romp, since they didn’t have that much hot water. He was still considering accepting Mycroft’s offer for a bigger water heater so they could play longer... But he would have to wait until Christmas or his birthday. He knew that the brunette was still mad at his brother for making sure John would talk with Lestrade to help him get a better understanding of his new status as a bonded, and especially to let him know of the things that his mate would surely hide from him.
While he lathered the shampoo in his short hair he tried to think if there could be a reason why the other acted so strange, so detached that morning and he finally realized that it was Valentine’s Day, the day of people in love… And, he reasoned, since incubi were sexual demons and their power came from the opposite of romantic, soft, platonic love, Sherlock was probably feeling incredibly wronged by the whole human race who thought the day only focused on the softer, usually less physical, aspect of a relationship.
John realized he had to do something before the younger Holmes became a menace to others and decided on preventing the man from leaving the apartment, by any means necessary…
Having made up his mind, he rinsed his short strands and began to softly caress himself, letting his fingers run over his head, and neck, going to his nipples while he thought in very vivid detail about them being Sherlock’s digit. Those sure, slim, wicked hands that made him tremble in pleasure; that stroked his body and took him to ecstasy every time.
Watson knew that the consulting detective could read his thoughts if they were lustful. He had confessed as much while in their early stages of mating frenzy and he fully intended to take advantage of it.
Eventually, his hand closed around his own shaft but it was slapped away by another one; a strong hand that belonged to a slim incubus who had been teased beyond any reasonable parameter.
“You are such a naughty man, John…” whispered a dark voice at his back, while a body insinuated itself behind him. “I should punish you for being a tease…” he kept on lowly, speaking directly into the man’s ear. He bit the lobe carefully, his tongue playing with the little place.
“I deliver…” he answered, quite happy that he had made the brunette come to him and had pulled him out of his foul mood.
The consulting detective smiled to himself and let his mouth and teeth fasten around the claiming mark that showed his ownership of John to whoever could see. He would never get tired of sinking into that place, drawing and drinking the little droplets of blood that would reinforce their bond every time.
He let his hands roam free on the tanned skin, getting reacquainted with every little nook and cranny. He teased the hot spots he had discovered during their multiple couplings and eventually caressed and pinched the already hardened nipples.
John moaned loudly and Sherlock knew he was about to begin arching and asking for more, for something only he was able to give anymore.
The brunette moved his tongue over the heated, bitten skin and elicited another of those blissful sounds the blonde gave so freely and he let go. He spun his lover around and pushed him against the wall.
John could see his mate’s eyes had gone completely black and he smiled. He loved seeing the younger Holmes as his truest self. It never failed to take him to new highs of arousal. The doctor bit his own lips before opening his arms and spreading his legs in a silent invitation to be taken. He wanted, needed to feel his lover inside.
The taller one covered the short distance between them and plastered himself against the man’s front. He latched onto the place where shoulder and neck met but on the side he had previously left alone.
His fingers again twisted one of the nipples before moving down to kiss and lick it better, making the man howl from pain and moan from pleasure. He did the same with the other one.
After a moment, he moved down, his tongue carefully tracing a water droplet’s path until he reached the erect manhood. He kissed the heated, throbbing shaft and let two fingers trace the whole of it—from the tip to the ball sack—before moving to the little, puckered place that would soon open to him. Sherlock let his wet mouth take the head of his mate’s member, knowing he couldn’t come until he allowed it, which made for quite a power trip among all other perks it had. It was one of the many ways his race ensured that prey, donors or mates would be able to give the incubi or succubi the most energy. Delayed satisfaction usually made for a powerful orgasm if the person was kept well and thoroughly stimulated.
“Please, Sherlock!” the man begged while his hands became entangled in the other’s black curls.
The consulting detective sucked leisurely, taking the flesh one little bit at a time, his finger softly stroking the man’s entrance and eventually going inside easily thanks to his power.
Watson howled in delight when the long digit hit his prostate.
Eventually, the brunette began to suck harder, making the blond sob and ask for release.
“Sherlock! Please, let me come… I need it… I need you… now…”
Those were always the magic words, even if the consulting detective would never admit it aloud.
He let the shaft go and stood up, making the smaller man groan in complaint, but they both knew that the best was yet to come. The younger Holmes let another finger breach his lover, as gently as he could, while he went once more to the man’s neck.
“You look so beautiful like this, wanting me, begging me… I want to hear a little more John, please… let me... hear you”
The former soldier moaned and wrapped his legs around the other’s strong waist.
“Ple… Please Sherlock, I promi…se I’ll beg for you… I’ll beg all day… just please…” he said, his own orbs blown by his desire.
“All day?” the other asked dangerously. Yes, he could work with that… No one could blame him if actually made sure his mate was good on his words.
He had tried, really, to go by the book but it was obvious he should have never even bothered with it. His perfect lover wasn’t just too different, too tempting to be left alone until the magic hour came… Though he would make sure they got to the theatre on time for the double date he had planned with Mycroft and Lestrade. He had already forgiven his brother for the little stunt he had pulled to get his recently bonded one to talk with the Detective Inspector. Moreover, he would have to give—or do—something nice for the ginger haired man to thank him for making sure the new hot water heater was installed before Valentine’s Day or they wouldn’t have been able to enjoy such an extended lovemaking session.
“All… day… if you just… let me come…”
Sherlock gave an edgy smirk and sheathed himself in the other’s channel. He gave a few thrusts, touching the man’s most sensitive spot. Making the man even more bothered until he was babbling incoherencies that sounded like pleas he finally let go of his control and allowed the man to orgasm.
The energy that came to him was almost too much, it was so rich and powerful, he felt at the verge of not being able to take it. It was marvelous and terrifying and he wondered if he would have been able to absorb it all had he waited and kept his hands to himself during most of the day.
He now understood why this was such a sacred, important day. Next year he would make sure to plot a different way of making sure he and his mate were separated for just a couple of hours. And he would try to diet a little so he could actually engorge himself on the marvelous energy that his bonded one gave to him… He would look just like Mycroft had, all stuffed, during his first several centuries among humans! But it would only be for a couple of days so he would be able to deal with the raised eyebrow of the older Holmes that he was sure he would be seeing sooner or later.
They stood under the spray for a while trying to get back to normal. The former soldier was still a little shaky when the brunette, who was almost shinning, took him out of the enclosed space, turned off the water and proceeded to towel him hurriedly before dragging him to the bed they had vacated early.
John fell on the well-worn mattress, and tried to clear his head. He had never experienced such an incredible orgasm in his entire life… If the reward for taking care of his mate’s sudden moodiness was such a feeling… The whole of his body felt so relaxed and happy that he just had to close his eyes…
Several hours later, the doctor was ordered to take a quick shower, not to tempt his bonded one—as if he was about to, he had thought quite amused, with the amount of sex that Sherlock had asked for based on his careless words while in the throes of passion during their morning joining—and change into the clothes he would provide.
Watson couldn’t help but feel a little curious about what Sherlock had planned so he did as he was told but kept on pressing the consulting detective for answers. Still, neither kisses nor softly coaxing questions would make the man open up and reveal what he was planning.
In the end, he found himself wearing a black suit with a white shirt and a grey tie that matched his mate’s eyes, while the brunette had decided on a matching suit but his tie was blue. When he saw Sherlock he felt sorely tempted to pull the man to him with it, kiss him and all but forget whatever it was the younger Holmes was planning that required he wear such sexy garments.
The consulting detective’s eyes flashed pitch black for a moment, but then he managed to compose himself—getting better at it now that the mating and bonding was secure—and gently separated himself from the doctor.
“Please, John, I have made plans I’m sure you’ll enjoy and today is such a special day for us…” he began to say gently.
The blond looked at him in awe.
“Is it for you? I mean it’s not something you despise, being the day of romantic love?” he asked confused.
It took a moment for the younger Holmes to actually comprehend the other’s question.
“John, Valentine’s day is when some of the most passionate sex takes place…” the man said with a wicked smile. “For incubi it is an experience in itself… A day of feast if you must,” he explained, letting his own contentedness show on the whole of his body. “And for mated or bonded ones… it’s even better because the feelings make everything stronger, purer… more delicious…” he finished, licking his lips greedily.
The doctor smiled and thought, once again, how much his life had changed since Sherlock had marked him, how much it had improved.
“I love you, you know?” he whispered at last.
The former soldier didn’t say those words all that much, except the few occasions he shouted it in the bedroom, so Sherlock wasn’t used to hearing them when they meant exactly what they said. When it happened it always made him shine, his eyes became their blackest and he couldn’t resist kissing the soft lips that spoke such simply yet vital words.
“I love you too, my mate, my John,” he whispered while pressing their foreheads together in a simple gesture of closeness.
They stayed like that for several seconds before Sherlock sprung into action. Taking a moment to hide his telltale dark eyes, he took the former soldier by the waist and guided him outside Baker Street where a big black car was waiting for them.
Leave it to Mycroft to change his plans without notice! thought Sherlock. They had agreed on finding each other after the play so they could go to dinner together. But he couldn’t stay mad with the older one. Since today was his first Valentine as a mated and bonded incubus, it was tradition that the older Holmes would make sure he was being well fed and happy. And the “minor” civil servant was nothing if not respectful of the old ways… when it suited him.
They entered the vehicle and found a composed but glistening Mycroft sitting with Greg, who had one of the biggest grins John had ever seen on his face.
The ginger haired man greeted his little brother and the good doctor, before whispering something to the consulting detective the others couldn’t quite catch. The words caused his sibling to get a little red in the face and turn to the window as if he had decided to ignore the British Government and everyone else for a while.
John knew that the show was only because Sherlock needed some time to pull his act together again, which could only mean that whatever the older Holmes had said had stricken and stung the other, probably on his pride.
The former soldier looked at his brother-in-law disapprovingly before turning to the Detective Inspector who had shook his head briefly but kept a secret smile.
It was going to be a long night, thought John, but he knew somehow that it would be a great one, too.