Sherlock: Inclinations
Fandom: Sherlock (BBC 2010)
Main characters: John, Sherlock
Referenced characters: N/a
Pairings: Sherlock/John
Contains: N/a
Rating: PG13
Summary: Sherlock's risks are all calculated.
Notes: So in the depths of sleepy impatience, waiting for my hot water bottle to heat up (yes, even in what Britain proudly calls summer), I wondered if there was any Sherlock slash yet. Suspected there was, but used my ipod to type out a fic in an email for
feywood anyway. I sent it at 2:39am, for the record, so if other Sherlock fic shows up, we can see who was first...
"I thought," John says, words half lost against Sherlock's skin, "that you were wedded to your work, with no inclination to do this."
"Perhaps I'm taking pity on your obvious attraction to me," Sherlock says, and gets a sharp little bite in response. John already knows him well enough to know that only makes him smile. "A calculated risk," he says, more breathlessly, after a moment.
"Am I that dangerous?" John asks, sceptical and distracted by buttons and sleeves and skin. "Worth a risk?"
"Oh, yes," Sherlock says, his long fingers moving into John's hair, pulling him up, his kiss knowing and hungry.
John means to ask why, but forgets in the rush of exploration, of newness -- Sherlock just as eager, though sometimes clinical in his curiosity, despite having been so certain he had already comprehended John right down to the bone. And perhaps Sherlock knew he would forget to ask: another calculated risk.
This was originally posted here, on Dreamwidth.
Main characters: John, Sherlock
Referenced characters: N/a
Pairings: Sherlock/John
Contains: N/a
Rating: PG13
Summary: Sherlock's risks are all calculated.
Notes: So in the depths of sleepy impatience, waiting for my hot water bottle to heat up (yes, even in what Britain proudly calls summer), I wondered if there was any Sherlock slash yet. Suspected there was, but used my ipod to type out a fic in an email for
feywood anyway. I sent it at 2:39am, for the record, so if other Sherlock fic shows up, we can see who was first...
"I thought," John says, words half lost against Sherlock's skin, "that you were wedded to your work, with no inclination to do this."
"Perhaps I'm taking pity on your obvious attraction to me," Sherlock says, and gets a sharp little bite in response. John already knows him well enough to know that only makes him smile. "A calculated risk," he says, more breathlessly, after a moment.
"Am I that dangerous?" John asks, sceptical and distracted by buttons and sleeves and skin. "Worth a risk?"
"Oh, yes," Sherlock says, his long fingers moving into John's hair, pulling him up, his kiss knowing and hungry.
John means to ask why, but forgets in the rush of exploration, of newness -- Sherlock just as eager, though sometimes clinical in his curiosity, despite having been so certain he had already comprehended John right down to the bone. And perhaps Sherlock knew he would forget to ask: another calculated risk.
This was originally posted here, on Dreamwidth.