Fic Rec: Inked
Title: Inked
Author: Regency
Pairing: Sherlock/John
Length: 43025 words
Rating: Teen
Warnings: None
Verse: Sherlock BBC
Author's summary: John has tattoos. Sherlock has questions. Something like romance eventually blooms, but it's not without its complications.
Reccer's comments: The summary sounds a bit cracky, but the fic is not at all. It's actually a beautiful character study of both Sherlock and John and their relationship. I envy the writer's ability to write with such beautiful language and imagery.
It starts out on a light-hearted note, with witty repartee between Sherlock and John that had me smiling more than once. It then moves into more serious territory as the reasons why John has so many tattoos and yet hides them away from everyone, including Sherlock, come to light. Sherlock is desperate to get John to trust him enough to reveal all his tattoos and explain the meanings behind each one.
Throughout all this, Sherlock struggles with how he really feels about John. To help him come to the right conclusion, Mycroft and Irene both do what they can to help him along the way.
“You can’t expect me not to touch, John. I have to catalogue this.” His fingers followed to where country green overlaid mountain pass, up to John’s elbow where it ran hiding underneath his sleeve. He scowled at the fabric in the way. He wanted, no, he needed to see it all, all of John, all the parts of himself he refused to share with anyone else. The void in his knowledge of this man felt suddenly indescribably large. He couldn’t bear it. He moved his hands to John’s buttons, but other man’s grip caught him short. He pulled against the hold without success. “I need to see.”
“And I said no. I said it twice and now I’ll say it again: No, Sherlock. Those are not for you, not for your eyes, or hands, or whatever else you’re considering using on me. They’re mine.”
Sherlock pouted. “What do I need to do to convince you to trust me?”
“Nothing, absolutely nothing. I trust you with my life.”
“So you do, but not with your skin.”
“I only trust my artist with that. It isn’t personal.”
Sherlock burst into motion, rising to his feet to pace an unsteady beat. “Of course it is! You’re my blogger. I’m supposed to know all there is to know about you.”
“You know what’s important.
“What if you vanish? How will I be able to identify your body when it’s found.”
“Let’s just stick to hoping I don’t disappear, shall we?”
“That’s a fool’s errand, John. The likelihood that you won’t be abducted before month’s end defies probability.”
“And I suppose asking you to avoid upsetting new and more terrifying criminals would be asking too much.”
Sherlock didn’t understand the question and, thus, refused to respond to it.
“You’re being unreasonable, John.”
“Hardly.”
Sherlock pouted again.
“That won’t work on me. I’ve refused sweeter faces than yours. You haven’t got a chance.”
“What if I showed you my scars?” They were many, but he wasn’t ashamed. He’d come out on the other side of them improved and with an increased tolerance for mind-altering substances.
While continuing to look obstinate, John did begin to look interested. “You have scars? What kind?”
“Naturally. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” Sherlock began to unbutton his purple shirt with aplomb.
Author: Regency
Pairing: Sherlock/John
Length: 43025 words
Rating: Teen
Warnings: None
Verse: Sherlock BBC
Author's summary: John has tattoos. Sherlock has questions. Something like romance eventually blooms, but it's not without its complications.
Reccer's comments: The summary sounds a bit cracky, but the fic is not at all. It's actually a beautiful character study of both Sherlock and John and their relationship. I envy the writer's ability to write with such beautiful language and imagery.
It starts out on a light-hearted note, with witty repartee between Sherlock and John that had me smiling more than once. It then moves into more serious territory as the reasons why John has so many tattoos and yet hides them away from everyone, including Sherlock, come to light. Sherlock is desperate to get John to trust him enough to reveal all his tattoos and explain the meanings behind each one.
Throughout all this, Sherlock struggles with how he really feels about John. To help him come to the right conclusion, Mycroft and Irene both do what they can to help him along the way.
“You can’t expect me not to touch, John. I have to catalogue this.” His fingers followed to where country green overlaid mountain pass, up to John’s elbow where it ran hiding underneath his sleeve. He scowled at the fabric in the way. He wanted, no, he needed to see it all, all of John, all the parts of himself he refused to share with anyone else. The void in his knowledge of this man felt suddenly indescribably large. He couldn’t bear it. He moved his hands to John’s buttons, but other man’s grip caught him short. He pulled against the hold without success. “I need to see.”
“And I said no. I said it twice and now I’ll say it again: No, Sherlock. Those are not for you, not for your eyes, or hands, or whatever else you’re considering using on me. They’re mine.”
Sherlock pouted. “What do I need to do to convince you to trust me?”
“Nothing, absolutely nothing. I trust you with my life.”
“So you do, but not with your skin.”
“I only trust my artist with that. It isn’t personal.”
Sherlock burst into motion, rising to his feet to pace an unsteady beat. “Of course it is! You’re my blogger. I’m supposed to know all there is to know about you.”
“You know what’s important.
“What if you vanish? How will I be able to identify your body when it’s found.”
“Let’s just stick to hoping I don’t disappear, shall we?”
“That’s a fool’s errand, John. The likelihood that you won’t be abducted before month’s end defies probability.”
“And I suppose asking you to avoid upsetting new and more terrifying criminals would be asking too much.”
Sherlock didn’t understand the question and, thus, refused to respond to it.
“You’re being unreasonable, John.”
“Hardly.”
Sherlock pouted again.
“That won’t work on me. I’ve refused sweeter faces than yours. You haven’t got a chance.”
“What if I showed you my scars?” They were many, but he wasn’t ashamed. He’d come out on the other side of them improved and with an increased tolerance for mind-altering substances.
While continuing to look obstinate, John did begin to look interested. “You have scars? What kind?”
“Naturally. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” Sherlock began to unbutton his purple shirt with aplomb.