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Lapis Lazuli

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Sherlock crouched down and picked up a blue stone flecked with gold. John came up behind him. “What is it?”

“Lapis lazuli,” said Sherlock, straightening and holding it up. He couldn’t help but notice John’s eyes were similar in color, if a paler blue. “Not native to here, someone must have dropped it.”

John looked around the swath of parkland, but there was no one else in sight. “Suppose you can turn it in and see if someone comes back for it.”

Sherlock made a noise and stuck it in his own pocket.

John rolled his eyes, knowing Sherlock wouldn’t be turning it in. “So why are we out here again?”

“You’re the one that’s been suggesting we get out of the flat.” Sherlock started walking again.

“I was thinking of maybe popping down to Angelo’s, not coming all the way out here.”

Sherlock smiled a little. “We’re alone, and the sun will be setting soon.”

John looked at him and looked around again. Sherlock watched him take in the scenery and make some mental calculations. He gave Sherlock a wicked look, then crowded him towards a stand of trees. “Is that what this is about? Wanted to get some time alone out in the fresh air?”

Sherlock smirked and stepped into the shade, shrugging off his coat and laying it on the ground. “Obviously.”

John pulled him close and kissed him. “You sure we’re alone? I don’t need another ASBO.”

“Quite.” Sherlock slipped to his knees, making John’s breath catch. He reached down and ran a hand through the tangle of Sherlock’s hair. Sherlock leaned forward and nuzzled him through his jeans.

“Yeah, go on,” said John softly, breath catching already. Sherlock’s heart warmed to know just how much John craved this. John’s fingers tugged gently at his hair and Sherlock reached up to free him.

Sherlock licked a stripe up John’s hefty cock, savoring the taste of him. He adjusted his knees, wrapped a hand around the base and took him into his mouth. After bobbing his head a few times he looked up through his lashes in the fading light, watching pleasure wash across John’s face. The gold-flecked eyes were hungry, blown dark with desire.

“God, yeah,” murmured John. “You bring supplies?”

Nodding, Sherlock pulled a tube of lube from his pocket. John took it from him, thrusting lightly into his mouth. “You’re gorgeous, you know that?”

Part of Sherlock wanted to argue. Wanted to find a mirror and point John at it and tell him that was the most amazing man he had ever seen. Wanted to hold up the lapis lazuli and tell him how the stone was only a pale reflection of the beauty of his eyes. Instead he lowered his gaze and tried to bring John pleasure in the quickly fading light.

John pulled out and leaned down to kiss Sherlock gently.

Sherlock lay back on his coat, bringing John with him.

John deepened the kiss, humming softly, his hands in Sherlock’s hair as if he could never get enough of touching it.

Sherlock’s hands smoothed down John’s sides.

“Let me touch you,” murmured John as he pulled back, reaching for Sherlock’s flies.

Sherlock nodded, smiling softly, brushing John’s hair back from his forehead.

John got Sherlock’s trousers open and pulled them down. “This’ll be easier if you roll over.”

“I want to see you,” said Sherlock, leaning up and kissing his forehead.

John looked up and met his eyes. “Oh. All right then. You still want me to take you?”

“Yes. There’s no one for miles and it will be full dark soon.” He toed off his shoes and wiggled the rest of the way out of his pants and trousers. His heart still skipped, knowing they were outside and, however unlikely it was, they could be caught. He didn’t want to be, of course, but the possibility made everything feel sharper.

Leaning down, John kissed him again, fingers teasing along his rim before pushing in. “You opened yourself earlier, didn’t you? Knew we were going to come out here?”

Sherlock cupped his cheek and kissed him back. “I had hoped, and it seemed this might speed up the process.”

John smiled and shook his head, adding another finger and watching Sherlock’s face.

As much as Sherlock wanted to look at John, the pleasure was too overwhelming and he was unable to prevent his eyes from slipping closed as John expertly worked him open.

“You’re so good for me,” murmured John, removing his fingers and shifting up.

“You are the best thing to ever happen to me,” said Sherlock honestly, opening his eyes.

John blinked, then leaned down to kiss him. “I love you. You know that, yeah?”

“I do,” said Sherlock. “And I love you too.”

Smiling softly, John coated his cock and started to press in.

Sherlock looped his arms around John’s neck, trying to relax for him, feeling his coat underneath him and the steady weight of John over him.

John groaned softly as slipped all the way in, nibbling Sherlock’s neck as he thrust slowly.

Sherlock’s hands smoothed down John’s back. He rocked his hips in time to John’s movements. He glanced heavenward and noticed the stars had begun to come out. The world felt still, as if the two of them were the only thing in it.

Carefully, John worked a hand between them, stroking Sherlock’s cock.

Sherlock’s eyes closed again, listening to John’s harsh breath in his ear. He could smell the grass and the trees around them. It reminded him of fairy stories he’d been told as a child, as if John Watson was his own hero. Which, he was.

He arched into John’s grip, close. He could hear John pull a handkerchief from his pocket. “Come for me,” murmured John.

Sherlock came with a soft groan, John working him through it. Finally he opened his eyes and leaned up to kiss John again.

He smiled and wrapped up the handkerchief, setting it on the grass and thrusting harder into Sherlock, chasing his own release. Sherlock watched his eyes again, watched pleasure wash across John’s face. John closed his eyes as he came, filing Sherlock completely.

Reaching up, Sherlock cupped John’s cheek. John leaned down to kiss him. “We should go before someone finds us and kicks us out.”

Sherlock nodded, biting his lip as John carefully pulled out. He pulled on his trousers and pants, finding his feet, picking up the coat and brushing the grass off of the Belstaff before swinging it back on.

John looked at him a moment, then reached over and took his hand. It wasn’t something they usually did in public, but here it seemed okay, walking through the grass, heading back towards the city and their usual lives.

Sherlock already knew the stone would go on the mantel, a reminder of this day, of what they had, and what he would always treasure.