Fic: The Scent of Sherlock 3/3 (Sherlock/John, PG, AU, Special powers and skills)heeroluvaOctober 16 2011, 01:01:35 UTC
“My mother was caught by the Wild Hunt when she was pregnant with me. While they can easily take the souls of those with mostly mortal blood, they must fight for those with magic in their blood. My mother’s family comes from a family that’s interbred with many fae over the generations, so she was able to protect herself. However, I was but a babe in her womb with no protection of my own. By the time she realized that the slaugh had turned their attention to me it was too late. She fought and saved me, but…” Sherlock trailed off, and John had never seen him look so scared, unsure, as though the fate of the world depends on what John said next.
“They marked you, left a piece of themselves behind. That’s why you rarely sleep or eat.” John closed the space between them, wrapping his arms around Sherlock’s stiff frame. “It’s why you can’t empathize, why you have difficulties with feelings.” Under John’s hands, Sherlock tensed further.
“I feel!” Sherlock protested loudly.
“I said you have difficulties, not that you didn’t. It’s all or nothing for you, isn’t it?” John asked rubbing soothing hands up and down Sherlock’s back, relieved when the muscles slowly started to relax beneath his ministrations.
“Yes,” Sherlock all but breathed.
“Family secret? You’re never told anyone, have you?”
“Never. Mummy will be cross, and Mycroft will threaten you again. Not that it will do any good, of course. How did you know that I was… different? What gave it away? Most people assume I have a mimic in my lineage,” Sherlock asked, clearly needing to understand.
“You smell,” John said, drawing in a deep breath, flooding his senses.
“And you did not tell me that you had enhanced senses. You’re definitely not the first person that’s smelt me. There has to be more to it.”
“You smell good,” John said trying to explain, dropping his nose to nuzzle at Sherlock’s neck.
“Oh,” Sherlock said. “Oh,” he said again, understanding dawning in his eyes as he looked down at the top of John’s head.
Raising his head to meet, Sherlock’s eyes, he smiled. “Yes, oh.”
Secure with the knowledge of Sherlock’s feelings, John raised one hand to cup the back of Sherlock’s head, and not pleased at the novelty of being shorter, brushed his lips across Sherlock’s.
Slowly pulling back, John was pleased to note the truly happy grin on Sherlock’s face and the dancing emotions in his eyes.
Re: Fic: The Scent of Sherlock 3/3 (Sherlock/John, PG, AU, Special powers and skills)jaune_chatDecember 6 2011, 02:38:06 UTC
I so very much love fairy tales. And I adore the use of scent in a story, dunno why, but I do. I really like Sherlock and John exploring each other's heritage, discovering something unexpectedly different and wonderful about each other. Thank you!
“They marked you, left a piece of themselves behind. That’s why you rarely sleep or eat.” John closed the space between them, wrapping his arms around Sherlock’s stiff frame. “It’s why you can’t empathize, why you have difficulties with feelings.” Under John’s hands, Sherlock tensed further.
“I feel!” Sherlock protested loudly.
“I said you have difficulties, not that you didn’t. It’s all or nothing for you, isn’t it?” John asked rubbing soothing hands up and down Sherlock’s back, relieved when the muscles slowly started to relax beneath his ministrations.
“Yes,” Sherlock all but breathed.
“Family secret? You’re never told anyone, have you?”
“Never. Mummy will be cross, and Mycroft will threaten you again. Not that it will do any good, of course. How did you know that I was… different? What gave it away? Most people assume I have a mimic in my lineage,” Sherlock asked, clearly needing to understand.
“You smell,” John said, drawing in a deep breath, flooding his senses.
“And you did not tell me that you had enhanced senses. You’re definitely not the first person that’s smelt me. There has to be more to it.”
“You smell good,” John said trying to explain, dropping his nose to nuzzle at Sherlock’s neck.
“Oh,” Sherlock said. “Oh,” he said again, understanding dawning in his eyes as he looked down at the top of John’s head.
Raising his head to meet, Sherlock’s eyes, he smiled. “Yes, oh.”
Secure with the knowledge of Sherlock’s feelings, John raised one hand to cup the back of Sherlock’s head, and not pleased at the novelty of being shorter, brushed his lips across Sherlock’s.
Slowly pulling back, John was pleased to note the truly happy grin on Sherlock’s face and the dancing emotions in his eyes.
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