He has been standing inside the warm and slightly damp greenhouse for however long. His thoughts are elsewhere. With Sherlock. They often wander to his beloved beekeeper. His days as a consulting detective are behind him now. John had been sceptical when Sherlock spoke about retirement, of keeping bees in Sussex, of living in a tiny cottage, just the two of them.
“Surely, you’ll be bored after a week,” John had stated.
“Absolutely not!” Sherlock protested, “bees are endlessly fascinating creatures. And besides, there is you.”
“Me?” John had scoffed, “you know me better than I know myself.”
“True, but there are still new things to learn,” Sherlock purred and bent down to kiss him thoroughly.
After that, John decided to let his love have his way. It was often like that. Truth be told; it was always like that.
Now, though, John is alone. He feels old. His joints are aching, just like his scar. But inside the greenhouse, in the humid warmth, his body aches a little less.
The spring is finally here, life is returning to nature. Snowdrops adorn parts of their lawn, alongside yellow, white, and purple crocuses. Soon, the daffodils will pop their heads up from the earth by their fence, and the grass will yet again be lush and green.
John sighs, inhales the scents from the many herbs he keeps in here during the cold season, opens the door, and walks towards the cottage as quickly as he can. Luckily, he doesn’t need a cane yet, but he can’t discard the thought that he might need one soon. He’s not getting any younger.
Before he reaches the door, though, he hears a familiar sound, a bark from a certain dog, soon followed by a deep baritone.
“Go find, daddy. He’s waiting for us!”
Seconds later, their border collie, looking much like the one from Lassie, rounds the corner and yaps happily at John.
“Hello, there precious. I didn’t think you’d ever return. What have you and that rascal of a beekeeper been up to, hm?” John coos and bends down to scratch the dog behind its ears.
Familiar footsteps make John stand upright again, and the dog turns his head and barks at Sherlock.
“Well done, Cara, you found him,” Sherlock praises and pats the dog on the head before turning to face John.
He frowns and places a gloved hand on John’s cheek.
“Not the best day,” he states. “I assumed, hence my absence when you woke.”
John is none the wiser, but he knows better than to pester Sherlock with questions. He will reveal whatever he’s unwilling to disclose later, so he just hums and gestures to the door.
“I’ve lit the fire. Come on. I’ll make us some tea.”
“I will make the tea. Make yourself comfortable in your chair,” Sherlock says brusquely and heads for the kitchen.
For a moment, Cara seems torn between who of her masters to follow, but Sherlock makes the decision for her: “with daddy,” he commands.
“He’s such a bully, isn’t he?” John says and seats himself.
The dog cocks its head at him and waggles the tail before it curls up on the rug in front of the fireplace.
Sherlock carries a tray with mugs, sugar, milk, the teapot, and a plate of newly baked cardamom buns from their local bakery.
“God, that smells divine,” John breathes and beams up at his husband, who returns the smile, showing off his dimple.
“Indeed. I was unable to resist. That was not why I went out this morning, though. Let’s eat first, and I will tell you what my excursion was about.”
They eat and drink in companionable silence. Cara doesn’t even lift her head when Sherlock strokes her back; she’s clearly exhausted after hours of meandering around with her beloved owner.
Finally, he sets his mug down, steeples his fingers in his normal pose, and John sinks further down in his chair, relishing the sight. Even at nearly seventy, Sherlock is gorgeous. His hair is more white than black, but it suits him. The wrinkles around his eyes are made of years and years of grinning at John, and his body is still in very good shape.
“This winter has been hard on you, and you know how much I hate seeing you like this. It doesn’t…it…it reminds me of how broken you looked before.”
“My darling,” John murmurs, “I’m aging, is all. Five years your senior, remember.”
Sherlock huffs and frowns at that; he prefers to ignore something as commonplace as age.
“Anyway, I have decided to take Molly up on her offer to look after everything, while we’re away,” Sherlock continues.
The days when John exclaimed: “Come again?” “What?” “Excuse me, what the hell, Sherlock?” are long since passed. Instead, he waits patiently for the continuation he knows is eminent.
“I have booked us a trip to Italy. Lago Maggiore. Our accommodation is close to the botanical garden, Villa Taranto, which contains more than a thousand plants, and there is also Camelia Park, and – “
“You are amazing, love. This is…just what I need.”
He’s about to question whether it would be a boring holiday for Sherlock, but when he arches an imperious eyebrow at John, he just capitulates, and asks when their flight is.
“You have two days to pack and set everything up. That is sufficient, yes?”
“It bloody well has to suffice when you’ve already bought the tickets, you numpty,” John replies, but inside, he’s glowing with anticipation.
He gets slowly to his feet and walks the short distance to Sherlock’s chair. His fingers card through the thick curls, an action that elicits low moans from Sherlock. Cara’s ears perk up but relaxes again when the familiar sound registers.
“I love you,” John whispers and bends down to kiss Sherlock.
“And I you,” Sherlock mumbles some moments later, and pulls John down to sit on his lap.
“This trip will get you out of hibernation in no time, amore mio.”
Your recent letter arrived yesterday just as the final craftsmen were departing. Our home is now being cleaned, from roof to foundation.
We have had many compliments over the various decorations we have spread around the grounds. Kya’s furs are draped over every lounging surface. Izumi’s wall hangings greet visitors. (Which should include you within the year, is that clear?) I have provided a selection of vases, and a sculpture from Huan catches light and rain from the skywell. Tiles manufactured in the valley below us line the pool under the skywell. Huan and I worked out the glazing together on one of his visits.
We have a contract with a family to bring fresh goods from the market in town. With Kya here, we have the most reliable refridgeration one could want. On occasion, she will help out a local family who provides ice-making. A family from the south had been trading along the coast when the war arrived at that port. They fled inland, and have been ice makers ever since. Kya was thrilled to make their acquaintance, but I’ll leave it to her to relay those details.
I convey congratulations from all three of us on the birth of San. We are already planning a visit back to the city in order to make his acquaintance.
When the three of you are ready, we will be ready for you to come visit us here.
At long last, we have a home of our own. You are one we hope to share it with.
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Jinora,
Thank you for your package! The three of us are indulging ourselves out on the patio behind the house, overlooking the small lake. The breeze brings a bit of a chill off the mountain, but the sun is warm. And with Izumi right here, Lin and I are almost always hot…
Whoops. Don’t tell your mother.
Or dad.
Anyhoo…
It’s going to be interesting to see where the decorations wind up. Or if they ever have permanent homes. I’ve caught them both rearranging the items the others brought. Funny how neither of them have moved any of the furs I brought. No matter where they are in the house, they always seem to have one draped over their legs or tucked under an elbow.
Makes great fun to sneak my cold fingers in underneath and…
Whoops.
Izumi has started teaching at the secondary school a few days a week, and Lin has three metalbending students. They tend to go to town together, giving me some time alone in the house.
So. When are you bringing Kai to visit? You need to hurry before us old women get too old to do anything fun.
At long last, we have a home of our own. You are one we hope to share it with.
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Iroh,
The diplomatic pouch should arrive a day or two after this letter. I need a bit more time to review that document before I provide a proper response. From my initial reading, however, I suspect you will not need signficiant guidance. Conditions have changed substantially in the time since my retirement, and I know you are being well-advised at home.
Conditions in this home have also changed substantially. We are now fully installed in our new home. Lin’s research into historic architecture in this area promises to be valuable as the summer heat increases. I may enjoy sunning myself on the edge of the lake, but Kya will likely spend most of her time at its bottom. Lin has provided some assistance in crafting a grotto a short walk down from the house. They have asked me to wait a bit longer before sharing it. I look forward to relaying my impressions, though it appears it will not be a space we intend to share, even with family.
That said, they both have insisted I remind you that the invitation to you is standing.
At long last, we have a home of our own. You are one we hope to share it with.
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Weeks later and hundreds of miles apart, three friends set down letters, glad that their loved ones finally had found a life lush with peace, joy, and love.
Content warnings: sex, bondage, encasement, IV drugs
Written for this week's @flashfictionfridayofficial prompt!
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The human and the fairy wandered through the forest, hand in hand, admiring the lush greenery. Sunlight filtered through the canopy, tinged green by the leaf cover, with a brilliant mosaic of colors from the flowers and fruits of the plants.mThey could quite literally hear the plants growing around them, a soft whisper of vines and leaves rubbing against each other and stretching. The songs of birds and the drone and buzz of insect life also filled the air, the wild magic causing the groves and glades to burst and teem with excessive vitality.
Eventually, the pair could no longer ignore the magic's effects on their own bodies and, falling onto a soft patch of moss, began to make out, lips and tongues clashing in a passionate dance as hands wandered and groped.
Soon, clothes were ripped off and tossed aside, the lovers enjoying skin-to-skin contact. The man teased his lover's sensitive breasts with rough, callused hands, causing her to moan into the kiss. She reached down and grabbed his erect length, pumping it, feeling how it eagerly pulsed and throbbed in her hands.
She pulled it to her entrance, already slick with her juices, and he eagerly sank into her, causing them both to moan as they coupled. They became engrossed in their passion, oblivious to the vines slowly growing over and around them, gently trapping their bodies in a leafy cage.
By the time they finished, basking in the afterglow of their love, they were fully encased in a cocoon of life. They felt no panic, however, since this had been their purpose in coming to the forest. As thorns pricked their skin, they could feel the life-giving essence of the plants entering them, carried through their bloodstream by the soft beating of their hearts.
There would never again be a need for food or water, they would not be taken by sickness or disease, as the plants cradled and protected and nurtured them. They soon felt their energy renewed, and their coupling began again, their bodies forever entwined by the plants, their hearts forever entwined by binding love.
Their love was forbidden, ostracized, and reviled by the world, but here in the forest, the world would never find them. They could spend their lives together, their leafy cocoon a loving paradise for just the two of them, forever a part of the forest they loved so much. And they would have it no other way.
