fic: Restless
Title: Restless
Author: Fanbot
Rated: PG-13 for language
Word count: 1069
Summery: A follow up to “Sherlock and the Angry Inch.” It is a rainy day and Sherlock notices that Watson wants to get up to something.
Warnings: Physical deformity and scaring. As a teenager, Sherlock suffered an amputation of most of his penis. Non-graphic, non-angst.
No Spoilers.
Proofed by the lovelysabrinaphynn
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When he was 17, Sherlock suffered a wound and infection which resulted in the amputation of all but an inch of his penis. John has a sexual fear of being penetrated. No angst.
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“You’re restless,” Sherlock Holmes said.
John Watson opened his mouth as if to say something as he turned to his flat mate, but instead crossed his arms and frowned. “I almost said ‘what was your first clue’ then thought better of it.”
Sherlock smiled past his interlaced fingers from where he sprawled before the fire which fended off the cool spring morning.
“Why aren’t you bored?” John asked the smug detective.
“I have been watching you.”
John nodded. “All right then. Tell. Tell me all the trivial things that have passed through my brain this morning.”
Sherlock tapped his fingers on his chin and smiled at the opportunity to show off, how ever a trivial case it was. “To start, you worked too much overtime last week because of the flu outbreak. Then you came down with it yourself. The last two days you were in bed. Today, you finally feel better. After changing your sheets and showering, you came downstairs with a quick step and a good appetite.
“You ate a hearty breakfast, both to make up for your illness and to prepare for some activity. You looked through your mail but opened none of it, so you want some less sedentary activity. When you picked up the paper from where I left it, you turned the pile over so the first section you read is the first I discarded, the community activities pages.
“The cover image is an artisan fair in Hyde Park scheduled for today, which you mentioned last week. Your face brightened, but then you looked out the window and saw that is it raining. You opened your laptop, and checked the weather. Rain all day, with risk of thunderstorms. So, the fair is postponed.
“Next thought; a museum, as the insert panel on the cover of the paper mentions ‘travel the world through museums.’ You pick up the paper again, to and see that no major exhibits have changed since we saw them last month. What other indoor activities are exciting? A movie, perhaps. Back to the laptop. There is nothing showing that interests you, and the one that does is in 3-D. You will not go to those because, one, they give you a headache and two, they are more expensive. You scowled at the one bill in your mailbox, so I know you are short on funds.
“Short on funds with rain all over; that means no day trip either.
“You studied me for a minute, but could tell by how thoroughly encamped I am by the fire that I have no case and no immediate plans. You tried once before to entice me to walk in the rain, and I subjected you to a twenty-five item list of reasons not to walk in the rain in London.
“You resigned yourself to staying in and opened your e-mail. You have checked your social sites, looked at those ridiculous pictures of cats that cannot spell, opened my site to see that I have posted nothing, then opened your blog, realized you have no case to post, closed it, then opened your case notes to stare at them.
“You turned on the television, and went through the channels twice. There is nothing on and no sports program even worth listening to. So you turned it off and stared out the window.
“I then said you are restless.”
John nodded. “True. All true. Do you have any ideas on how to spend the day? Any organizing or experiments?”
Sherlock raised an eyebrow. “You already have a perfectly acceptable activity for the both of us in mind yet you have not proposed it.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” John said quickly.
Sherlock chuckled in his warm baritone, recrossed his legs, and slumped even further down. “Then I guess we’ll just sit by the fire and listen to the rain.”
John turned off his laptop and put it aside. He puttered about and did the dishes. He wasted an hour before he stood in front of Sherlock.
“Fine. My room or yours?”
“Not with that attitude. It puts me right off,” Sherlock said without moving.
“What! You have been waiting me out… waiting to see if I could crack and admit I would like to have sex with you and then you just sit there!”
“Watson, you did nothing of the sort. You merely asked a location.”
John shook his head, contemplating banging it against the mantle. Instead he turned away to the window, straightened his shirt, and checked his hair in his reflection before returning. “Mr. Holmes. I wonder if I may request your companionship in whiling away this rainy day with some sport.”
Sherlock smiled. “And what sport might that be? Whist? Poker? A round of darts at the pub, perhaps? Billiards? A trip to the shooting range?”
John was just starting to ball up his fist when Sherlock rose to his feet and took John’s face gently in his hands. He tilted the shorter man’s head up and met his eyes. “Forgive me.”
John blinked in surprise. Sherlock never directly apologized.
“I was enjoying watching you too much, and when you posed your question such a charming Victorian manner I could not help but play along.”
“Enjoyed watching my embarrassment battle my libido?” John asked, feeling a bit sour.
Sherlock chuckled, dropped one hand to John’s shoulder and carded the fingers of the other through his hair. “My dear Watson, nothing of the sort. I have suppressed any sexual tendencies I may have had for so long, I’m having to relearn. All morning I have been growing aroused, watching you sneak looks at me and adjust yourself when you think I can not see.”
“I’ve not!” Sherlock gave him an oh really, are you saying I am wrong? look. “Well, maybe I have.” His brow furrowed. “How am I arousing?”
Sherlock kissed his forehead. “You are a strong, intelligent man. Seeing you aroused by me, watching you touch yourself, remembering how you touched me last month, and all the while planning how I am going to touch you.”
“Oh,” John breathed, licking his lips, “that’s a lot of touching.”
“I have enjoyed actually being… horny all morning. For the first time since…”
Since the amputation, John thought.
“Since I was a teenager. Don’t anguish over my… shortcomings, Watson.” John had to quirk a smile. “I made peace with the event half a life time ago.”
“I’m just not used to it. It… it makes me mad.”
“Which is why I can share with you. You just changed your sheets.”
“What?”
“The answer to your previous question.”
“So, your room, Holmes?”
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May I beg for comments? If i do not think anyone is reading, I will not write as much. Just a "like it" or "try harder" is enough.
Please?
Click the tag "angry inch" for all stories in this 'verse.