Chapter Text
Chapter 11
Together
“First proper bed Ah’ve ever had.” Simon said, voice thick with relief. Compared to the old one they’d stacked outside, this was huge. He didn’t hang off of it and he loved it!
Johnny curled against him. “We did all right.”
Simon stretched his newly freed leg across the expanse of mattress, savoring the sensation of having room to move. The cast had been like a prison. It was one more confinement in a life full of them. He kicked off his shoes, hearing them thump against the wooden floor with satisfaction.
“God, this is bloody heaven.” he said, running his hands across the comforter. “Feels like we're proper people now.”
Johnny's laugh was soft in the quiet room. “Aye, no more cramped quarters.”
Something stirred in Simon's chest, a warmth that spread through him at the sight of Johnny's smile. Without thinking, he rolled toward him, pushing himself up and over until he was straddling Johnny's hips, pinning him to the mattress.
“Hi there.” Johnny whispered, surprise and heat mingling in his eyes.
Simon lowered his head, capturing Johnny's mouth in a slow, deliberate kiss. He took his time, exploring the softness of Johnny's lips, the warmth of his mouth. Johnny's groan vibrated against his chest as he responded, hands coming up to grip Simon's waist.
Johnny kicked his own shoes off, sound of them landing with dull thuds on the floor wafting up. He shifted beneath Simon, slotting one powerful thigh between Simon's legs, creating delicious pressure exactly where Simon needed it.
“Fuck, Johnny.” Simon gasped against the smaller man’s mouth, instinctively grinding down against the firm muscle of his thigh. The friction sent sparks racing up his spine.
Johnny's hands slid up Simon's sides, fingers tracing patterns that made his skin tingle even through the fabric. “That's it, love.” he encouraged, voice rough with desire.
Simon sat back just enough to grab the bottom of his shirt, pulling it over his head in one fluid motion. The cool air raised goosebumps across his exposed skin.
“Want to feel you.” Simon said, tugging at Johnny's shirt. “All of you.”
Johnny's eyes darkened as he lifted himself just enough for Simon to strip the shirt from his body. When Simon lowered himself again, the contact of skin against skin drew a shuddering breath from both men.
“Christ, ye're beautiful.” Johnny whispered, hands reverently tracing the scars that mapped Simon's torso.
Simon captured Johnny's wandering hands, pinning them above his head as he leaned down for another kiss. This one was deeper, hungrier. Johnny arched beneath him, seeking more contact, more friction.
“Been wanting this.” Simon murmured against Johnny's neck, tasting the salt of his skin. “Been wanting you.”
Johnny's laugh was breathless. “Ye've had me since the moment ye walked into Price's briefing room, ye just dinnae kin it.”
Simon released Johnny's hands to trace the definition of his chest, lingering on the puckered scar below his collarbone. His fingers trembled slightly as he reached for Johnny's belt buckle. The metal felt cool against his fingertips, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from Johnny's skin. He fumbled with it for a moment, suddenly clumsy despite years of handling far more complex mechanisms in the field.
“Let me help.” Johnny whispered, his hands gently covering Simon's.
“No.” Simon said, his voice low and determined. “Ah want to do this.”
Johnny's hands retreated, coming to rest on the mattress beside him. The trust in that simple gesture made Simon's heart clench. He worked the belt free, the leather sliding through the loops with a soft hiss. The button came next, then the zipper, each small victory sending a fresh wave of anticipation through him.
Simon hooked his fingers into the waistband of Johnny's jeans, tugging them down over his narrow hips. Johnny lifted himself off the mattress, making it easier for Simon to slide the denim down his muscular thighs. The sight of Johnny beneath him, willing and wanting, nearly took Simon's breath away.
“You're stunning.” Simon murmured, running his hands up Johnny's now-bare legs.
Johnny's skin flushed at the compliment, the color spreading from his cheeks down his neck to his chest. Simon bent to press his lips to that blush, tasting the warmth, feeling Johnny's pulse race beneath his mouth.
“Been wanting to do this for so long.” Simon admitted against Johnny's collarbone. “Wanted to make you feel good, the way you've made me feel.”
Johnny's hands came up to cup Simon's face, drawing him into a kiss that was both tender and urgent. “Ye've always made me feel good, just by being with me.”
Simon deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against Johnny's, exploring and claiming. The taste of him was intoxicating. He pressed himself closer, reveling in the sensation of skin against skin, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through his body.
“Can Ah touch you?” Simon asked, his hand hovering just above the waistband of Johnny's boxers.
“Ye never have to ask.” Johnny replied, his Scottish brogue thickening with desire. “Ah'm yers, Simon. All of me.”
Simon slid his hand beneath the thin cotton, wrapping his fingers around Johnny for the first time. The heat of him, the silken hardness, drew a groan from deep in Simon's chest. Johnny's eyes fluttered closed, his head falling back against the pillows as Simon began to move his hand in slow, deliberate strokes.
“Look at me.” Simon whispered, his voice rough with need. “Want to see your eyes. You’ve got the most beautiful eyes.”
Johnny's gaze met his, blue depths dark with desire, utterly vulnerable in a way Simon had never seen before. It stole his breath, this utterly exposed, raw version of the man he loved.
Simon lowered himself down Johnny's body, his newly freed leg stretching with delicious freedom as he positioned himself between Johnny's thighs. He paused, heart hammering against his ribs as he contemplated what he was about to do. Johnny had done this for him, had shown him pleasure without demands or expectations. Now Simon wanted to return that gift, to worship Johnny's body the way Johnny had worshipped his. He wasn’t being forced. It wasn’t some prize or powerplay his sweet firecracker of a partner had sparked off, it was his own idea. To see those perfect, incredible eyes blown wide with pleasure, all because of him. So worth it.
“Simon.” Johnny murmured, propping himself up on his elbows. “Ye dinnae have to…” He’d be lying if he didn’t say every fiber of his being in that moment wished for it, but there was nothing, no reality in which he would ever force Simon to do it. The giant of a man threatening him with a demonstration of his devotion had been through too much for anyone.
“Ah want to.” Simon interrupted, his voice rough with desire. “Fuck, Johnny, Ah want to taste you.”
Simon lowered his head, inhaling the musky scent of Johnny's arousal. His lips brushed against the sensitive skin of Johnny's inner thigh, drawing a shuddering breath from the man above him. Simon took his time, exploring with tentative kisses, learning what made Johnny's breath catch, what made his muscles tense with anticipation.
When his mouth finally found Johnny's cock, the heat of it against his lips sent a jolt through Simon's body. He traced the length with his tongue, savoring the taste, the texture, the way Johnny's thighs trembled beneath his hands. This was the way things were supposed to be. Drenched in love and saturated with desire for each other. The stuff dreams were made of.
“Christ, Simon.” Johnny gasped, his Scottish accent thickening as Simon circled the base with his lips, nosing against the dark thatch of coarse hair.
Simon hummed in response, the vibration making Johnny buck slightly. He explored further, learning the contours of Johnny's balls with his tongue, reveling in the broken sounds that fell from Johnny's lips. Each gasp, each strangled moan, emboldened Simon further. He worked his way back up, licking a stripe along the underside of Johnny's cock before taking the head into his mouth.
“Ye dinnae,,, ye dinnae have to, mo ghràidh.” Johnny tried again, his voice wrecked. He would give Simon every possible chance to change his mind, if he wanted to, no matter how much the idea of him pulling away in that second killed him.
Simon pulled back just enough to speak. “Ah want to, Johnny. Let me make you feel good.”
Johnny's hand found Simon's hair, fingers threading through the strands without pulling or pushing, just connecting. The touch was so tender, so unlike anything Simon had experienced before, that his chest ached with emotion.
Returning to his exploration, Simon took his lover deeper this time, learning the weight of him on his tongue. Johnny's moans grew louder, filthier, a stream of Gaelic endearments and English profanities mingling in the quiet room. The sounds went straight to Simon's core, igniting something primal within him.
“Simon, fuck… yer mouth.” Johnny's words dissolved into a groan as Simon hollowed his cheeks, creating suction that made Johnny's hips lift from the mattress.
He still couldn't believe how completely he responded to Johnny's pleasure. Each moan, each gasp, each whispered endearment made him harder, made him want to give more, take more. This brilliant ray of sunshine beneath him, coming apart at his whim, teaching him the magic that he could wrought with his tongue. It was intoxicating. More consuming than any bottle they’d shared in their two years of service together.
Simon lost himself in the moment, treasuring each gasp and moan that escaped Johnny's lips. The weight of him on his tongue, the taste, the heat, it all combined into something Simon had never experienced before. Something sacred. He worked his mouth up and down Johnny's length, his own arousal building with every sound Johnny made.
When Johnny's fingers tightened in his hair, gently tugging him back and Simon knew he was close. He looked up to see Johnny's face flushed with pleasure, his blue eyes dark and desperate.
“Simon, wait.” Johnny gasped. “Come here.”
Simon gave one last lingering lick before crawling up Johnny's body. Their mouths met in a passionate kiss that left them both breathless. Johnny's hands roamed across Simon's back, pulling him closer.
“Ye're amazing,” Johnny whispered against his lips.
Simon sat back on his heels, suddenly aware of how constricting his pants had become. His hands trembled slightly as he unfastened his belt, sliding the zipper down. Johnny watched him, eyes never leaving his face as Simon kicked his pants away.
Their eyes locked, whiskey brown meeting crystal blue, and Simon felt stripped bare in a way that had nothing to do with his nakedness. He swallowed hard, gathering his courage.
“Ah think... Ah'd like to try.” Simon said, the words coming out more hesitant than he'd intended. “If you want to.”
Johnny's expression softened, his hand coming up to cup Simon's cheek. “Only if ye're sure, mo ghràidh. We dinnae have to do anything ye're not ready for.”
“Ah want to.” Simon insisted, leaning into Johnny's touch. “Ah trust you.”
“Remember,” Johnny said, his thumb stroking Simon's cheekbone, “at any time, ye say stop, an’ we stop. No questions asked.”
Simon nodded, warmth blooming in his chest at Johnny's care. This was so different from anything he'd known before. This was choice. This was trust. Everything about this felt right.
“Ah know.” he whispered. “That's why Ah want it to be you.”
Johnny pulled him down for another kiss, this one gentler but no less passionate. His hands skimmed down Simon's sides, leaving trails of heat in their wake.
“Lie back.” Johnny murmured against his lips.
Simon complied, settling against the pillows as Johnny reached for the bedside drawer. The click of a bottle opening sent a shiver of anticipation down Simon's spine. Johnny's movements were unhurried, his eyes never leaving Simon's face as he warmed the lubricant between his fingers.
“Still okay?” Johnny asked, positioning himself between Simon's legs.
He nodded, unable to find his voice. Johnny's first touch was gentle, questioning, giving Simon time to adjust. The sensation was strange but not unpleasant, especially with Johnny's other hand stroking his thigh, his lips pressing soft kisses to Simon's hip.
Johnny's touch was reverent, almost worshipful, as he spread Simon's thighs wider with gentle hands. His lips trailed down Simon's stomach, leaving a path of feather-light kisses that made Simon's skin tingle. When Johnny's mouth found his aching cock, the wet heat of it drew a gasp from deep in Simon's chest. Johnny took his time, alternating between gentle kisses and teasing sucks at the sensitive tip, his eyes never leaving Simon's face.
“Alright?” Johnny murmured, his breath warm against Simon's heated skin.
Simon nodded, unable to form words as Johnny's tongue traced a path along his length. The dual sensation of Johnny's mouth on him and the slick finger circling his entrance was overwhelming in the best possible way.
“Can Ah touch ye here?” Johnny asked, his finger pressing gently against Simon's rim without breaching.
“Yes.” Simon whispered, the word catching in his throat.
Circling slowly, Johnny's finger spread the warmed lubricant with careful attention. Simon had never experienced this kind of preparation before, this deliberate care. With Murphy, it had always been pain and force, brutal intrusions that left him bleeding and raw. This. Fuck. Johnny's gentle touch, the slick glide of lubricant, this was entirely new.
Johnny watched Simon's face intently, reading every flicker of expression. “Still good?”
Simon nodded again, tension gradually melting from his muscles as Johnny continued the careful ministrations. The lubricant warmed against his skin, Johnny's finger moving in slow, soothing circles that had Simon relaxing into the touch.
“Ah'm gonna press in now, just a little.” Johnny said, his voice low and reassuring. “Is that okay?”
Simon bit his lip, a flicker of old fear surfacing briefly before he pushed it away. This was Johnny. Johnny who had killed for him. Johnny who had saved him in every way a person could be saved. He gave a small nod, bracing himself for the familiar burn.
But it didn't come. Johnny's finger breached him with such exquisite gentleness that Simon barely felt it. Just a slight pressure and fullness that was nothing like the searing pain he'd expected. He released the breath he'd been holding, surprise washing over him.
“Ye okay?” Johnny asked immediately, stilling his movements.
“Solid. It doesn't hurt.” Simon said, wonder coloring his voice. “It's... it's good.”
A smile spread across Johnny's face, warm and tender. “That's how it's supposed to be, mo ghràidh. Never pain. Never.”
He resumed the careful motion, working his finger in a bit deeper while his other hand stroked Simon's thigh soothingly. When Johnny's mouth returned to Simon's cock, the pleasure pushed away any lingering discomfort. Simon's hips lifted slightly, seeking more of that wet heat.
“Another?” Johnny asked after several minutes of the gentle attention, his finger moving easily now.
“Yes.” Simon whispered, his voice husky with need. “Please.”
Johnny withdrew slightly, adding more lubricant to his fingers before returning. The pressure increased as he worked a second finger alongside the first, his movements achingly gentle. Simon's breath caught, his body tensing involuntarily at the intrusion.
“Too much?” Johnny paused immediately, concern evident in his eyes.
Simon shook his head, forcing himself to relax. “No, just... different. Good different.”
Johnny waited, giving Simon's body time to adjust before he began to move again. His fingers slid deeper with careful precision, watching Simon's face for any sign of discomfort.
“Still okay?” Johnny asked, his Scottish brogue thickening with desire.
“Yeah.” Simon breathed. “More than okay.”
Johnny's fingers moved with growing confidence, sliding in and out with a rhythm that had Simon's hips rising to meet each thrust. Then Johnny curled his fingers slightly, searching, until…
“Fuck!” Simon nearly shouted as pleasure exploded through him, white-hot and unexpected. His back arched off the mattress, every nerve ending suddenly alight.
Johnny froze, his lip worrying between his teeth, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Good?” He was betting, but would never assume. Simon could squash down any pain if he had to, he’d seen it too many times in their careers.
“God, yes! Fuck.” Simon gasped, his chest heaving. “Do that again.”
Johnny's smile widened as he repeated the motion, curling his fingers against that spot that made Simon see stars. Each touch sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through him, building and building until Simon was writhing on the sheets.
“More.” Simon demanded, his voice barely recognizable to his own ears. “Faster.” He had no idea his body could feel this good. Fucking hell.
Johnny complied, increasing his pace while scissoring his fingers gently to stretch him further. When he curled them again, hitting that perfect spot, Simon couldn't hold back the moan that tore from his throat. His hands clutched desperately at the sheets, his body moving of its own accord as Johnny reduced him to pure sensation.
“Johnny… Fuck.” Simon gasped, reaching for him blindly. “Ah need… Ah want.” He couldn't find the words, couldn't articulate what he was asking for through the haze of pleasure.
Johnny seemed to understand. He pressed gentle kisses along Simon's length before carefully withdrawing his fingers. For the first time in his life, Simon felt the loss keenly. He wanted, needed his fiery Scot inside of him. Already moving up his body, Johnny was pressing kisses to his stomach, his chest, his throat.
“What do ye need, mo ghràidh?” Johnny whispered against his lips. “Tell me.”
Simon pulled Johnny down for a desperate kiss, tasting himself on Johnny's tongue. When they broke apart, both breathing heavily, Simon found the courage to voice what he wanted.
“You.” he said simply. “Inside me. Please.”
Johnny's eyes widened, searching Simon's face. “Are ye sure? We dinnae have to.”
“Ah'm sure.” Simon interrupted, his hands coming up to frame Johnny's face. “Need you.”
Johnny nodded, reaching for the small bottle they'd placed on the nightstand. His hands trembled slightly as he coated himself, the cool gel warming quickly against his heated skin. He positioned himself carefully between Simon's thighs, searching his partner's face one final time.
“Ye're certain?” he whispered, his voice rough with need and concern. He was overwhelmed with his own desire for the man he loved, but he needed to know Simon was okay with this. A willing partner.
“Yes.” Simon breathed, pulling Johnny closer. “Please.”
Johnny pressed forward with exquisite gentleness, breaching Simon's entrance with painstaking care. Simon's breath caught as Johnny eased inside, the sensation overwhelming yet nothing like the pain he'd expected. Johnny paused with each increment, allowing Simon's body to adjust, his eyes never leaving Simon's face.
Simon's hips rose instinctively to meet him, urging him deeper. Johnny slid home, filling Simon completely, and the groan that tore from Simon's throat was deep and primal. The sound reverberated through the quiet room, shocking Simon with its rawness.
“Are ye…” Johnny began, concern etching his features.
“Move.” Simon commanded, his voice barely recognizable to his own ears. His hands gripped Johnny's hips, pulling him closer, deeper.
A surprised laugh escaped Johnny, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Aye, Lieutenant.” he murmured, drawing back slowly before pushing forward again.
The sensation was indescribable. Simon's eyes fluttered closed as Johnny established a rhythm, each thrust sending sparks of pleasure racing up his spine. His thighs tightened around Johnny's hips, urging him on, demanding more.
Johnny responded immediately, his pace increasing as Simon's legs squeezed him harder. The controlled gentleness gave way to something more urgent, more primal. His hands braced on either side of Simon's head, his breath coming in ragged gasps against Simon's ear.
“Simon.” Johnny breathed, the name like a prayer on his lips. “God, ye feel incredible.”
Simon couldn't form words, could only respond with broken moans as Johnny struck that perfect spot inside him again and again. His hands roamed Johnny's back, feeling the muscles flex and strain with each movement, the skin slick with sweat beneath his palms.
This was nothing like what Simon had known before. This was communion, not violation. Johnny moved within him and above him like they were made for this, like their bodies had always been meant to fit together this way. Each thrust built the pleasure higher, a rising tide that threatened to overwhelm him completely.
“Johnny.” Simon gasped, his accent thickening as his control slipped further. “Don't stop. Please don't stop.”
“Never.” Johnny promised, his rhythm faltering slightly as his own pleasure mounted. “Never gonna stop loving ye.”
The words pierced Simon's heart even as Johnny's body pierced his. Love. This was love. Not just the act but everything surrounding it. The care Johnny had shown, the patience, the reverence. The way he watched him, taking in every detail, every sound, every gasp. Simon was lost in the sensation, the feeling of Johnny moving inside him, the weight of him above. This was nothing like he'd ever experienced, a giving and taking that left him breathless, desperate for more.
“Harder.” Simon demanded, voice rough with need. “Faster, Johnny.”
Johnny met his demands without hesitation, driving into him with renewed vigor. His hips snapped forward, the rhythm growing more urgent, more primal. He shifted, changing the angle slightly, and Simon cried out as pleasure exploded through him.
“There?” Johnny gasped, sweat beading on his forehead.
“God, yes!” Simon groaned, his head thrown back against the pillows. “Right fucking there.”
Johnny's mouth found Simon's neck, sucking at the sensitive skin below his ear. He trailed kisses along Simon's jaw, his shoulder, anywhere he could reach as he continued to move within him. His tongue traced patterns on Simon's collarbone, teeth grazing lightly in a way that sent shivers racing down Simon's spine.
Simon felt his climax building, a tight coil of pleasure winding tighter with each thrust. Johnny must have sensed it too, because he slipped a hand between their bodies, wrapping his fingers around Simon's length. The dual sensation, Johnny inside him and Johnny's hand stroking him in perfect rhythm with his thrusts… it was overwhelming.
“Johnny.” Simon warned, his voice breaking. “Ah'm close.”
“Me too.” Johnny panted against his skin. “Together, aye?”
His hand moved faster, thumb circling the sensitive head with each upstroke. Simon's world narrowed to the points where their bodies connected. Johnny inside him, Johnny's hand around him, Johnny's mouth on his skin. The pleasure built to an unbearable peak, and then Simon was falling, crying out Johnny's name as his release washed over him in waves.
Johnny followed moments later, his rhythm faltering as he buried himself deep inside Simon, his body shuddering with the force of his climax. He collapsed forward, careful not to crush Simon beneath him, his forehead resting against Simon's shoulder as they both gasped for breath.
For several minutes, they lay tangled together, heartbeats gradually slowing, sweat cooling on their skin. Johnny pressed gentle kisses to Simon's shoulder, his neck, anywhere he could reach without moving.
“Alright?” Johnny murmured finally, lifting his head to meet Simon's gaze.
Simon nodded, unable to find words for the emotions swirling through him. He felt raw, exposed, but in a way that was liberating rather than frightening. Johnny had seen him at his most vulnerable and had treated that vulnerability as something precious.
“Better than alright.” Simon managed at last, his voice hoarse.
Johnny carefully withdrew, both of them wincing slightly at the sensation. He disappeared briefly into the bathroom, returning with a warm, damp flannel. With tender care, Johnny wiped away the traces of their lovemaking, the warm cloth gentle against Simon's sensitive skin. Simon watched through half-lidded eyes as Johnny tended to him with such reverence it made his chest ache. When Johnny disappeared to rinse the cloth and return it to the bathroom, Simon found himself already missing his warmth.
“Come back to bed.” Simon said, his voice still rough from earlier.
Johnny smiled that sunshine smile that never failed to warm Simon from the inside out. He returned to Simon, both sliding beneath the fresh sheets, his skin warm against Simon's as they settled into their new bed. Simon pulled him close, tucking Johnny's head beneath his chin, arms wrapping securely around him. The comforter settled over them like a protective cocoon, shutting out the world beyond their cottage.
“Ah love you.” Simon whispered into Johnny's hair. “God, Ah love you so much it terrifies me sometimes.”
Johnny pressed a kiss to Simon's collarbone. “Ah love ye too, mo ghràidh. More than anything in this world.”
Simon's fingers traced idle patterns on Johnny's back, following the curve of his spine, the defined muscles beneath smooth skin. He pressed his lips to Johnny's forehead, his temple, the corner of his eye. Each kiss a silent promise, a wordless declaration.
“Never thought Ah'd have this.” Simon admitted, his voice barely audible. “Never thought Ah'd be free of him.”
Johnny lifted his head, capturing Simon's lips in a kiss that was achingly tender. “Ye were always meant for more than that life. Always.”
Simon brushed the hair from Johnny's forehead, marveling at the man in his arms. This fierce, loyal, dangerous man who had killed for him. This man who had willingly given up everything, for this, their chance to live. Together.