le wip meme.
Shamelessly stolen from fuyu_no_fuhei: Posting the names of all the files in my Sherlock WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Choose one (or a few, I don't care), and I will post a random line or two.
In no particular order of completion, importance, or capitalization:
In no particular order of completion, importance, or capitalization:
- The Light Discontinued
- Our Hugest Home
- writer!john
- Derringer Sky; android ( Read more... )
John.txt:
Sherlock makes a study of compromise. John is not averse to touching but he will be skittish if unwarned, temper frayed after work days; sometimes he is unselfconscious to the point of carelessness, regardless of the star like angry starbursts on his shoulder. Likes long, hot baths (luxury; after the army's communal showers; hot water shortage; necessity), does not care for being interrupted, once lobbed the soap at the opening door. But he bustles busily into Sherlock's shower without so much as a blush, helps him scrub the grit and the dirt of Thames water from his hair. Sherlock catalogues their touches - he learns the brush of fingers on his sleeve, he learns the shape of John's palm against his spine, coursing upward like an electric shock.
angst-ridden pre-reichenbach epic which will probably make a lot more sense if you know that it's meant to be a fill for this prompt:
Sherlock was curled in the windowseat, wedged tightly into a coil that bore no mathematical sense, and John leaned into the doorway wearily: they hadn't slept for thirty-seven hours, not eaten for twenty. There was not a cell in his body that did not scream to be shut down, his leg heavy and throbbing under his weight. He watched Sherlock in the dirty, greasy light the streetlamp outside their window poured into the hotel room - gaunt skinny sod with not a pound of flesh on his bones; John could have kissed every angle in his body. Sherlock's eyes were skittish, and flinched away from his.
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