Sherlock Holmes - An Unwelcome Visitor
Title: An Unwelcome Visitor
Author: ladylovelace
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/Characters: Sherlock Holmes/Victor Trevor
Disclaimer: Not making any money. At all, from anywhere, but certainly not from this.
Summary: A mysterious visitor interrupts Holmes and Victor's holiday.
Spoilers: GLOR, in a roundabout way.
Warnings: Nope, they're just talking about it this time ;)
Word Count: 1600
Author's Notes: In which we veer away from canon, but not in an especially major way. Promises to beeinmybonnet that I will return Victor in equal or better condition. Also, I am now calling this the 'Early Acquaintance' series, so it will be clear when something belongs to that universe (as distinct from any and all shameless porn I write in amongst it).
“Your nose has gotten sunburned.” Victor pointed out as he ran a finger down the feature in question.
“I suspect that's a sign that we've been outside too often.” Holmes replied with a slow smile before sucking Victor's still-extended finger into his mouth.
“How is it that you've gone from 'nervously virginal' to 'utterly insatiable' in the space of a week? For that matter, how are you even contemplating another round? I don't think I can actually move.” Victor sighed dramatically as he watched Holmes' lips with rapt attention.
Holmes chuckled and released Victor's finger. “What happened to you wearing me out?”
“You happened, apparently. I think I'll sleep for the rest of the week. Just roll me over if you're desperate.”
“I'm always desperate for you, but I wouldn't do that. I will stay here and watch you, though.”
Victor laughed softly. “Watch over me while I sleep, hmm? The wheel turns full circle after all.”
Humming in agreement, Holmes threw an arm around Victor and curled up close to him. “This is a sign, you know. A sign that we need to stop being quite so athletic about it.” He nodded wisely.
“That sounds to me like one of your best ideas to date,” Victor pulled the blankets up over their heads, “do you remember the time-” the sound of the door creaking made both men freeze.
“Sorry to wake you, Master Trevor,” The young maid began nervously. Victor turned and stuck his head out to look at her, “It's just that there's a man outside who says he won't leave until he's found out where Mr. Trevor is. We told him he was away, but now he's insisting on seeing you.”
Whoever this man was, Victor hated him already. “Tell him I've died in the night. Tragic.”
The maid bit her lip. “If that got back to your father, sir, imagine how he'd feel.”
Holmes had decided that kissing his way down Victor's spine was another of his best ideas. Parts of Victor had too, which was making this the most awkward conversation he was ever likely to have. “You're right, I suppose. Bring the gentleman in for a cup of tea, and tell him I-” Victor cut off to stop himself yelping at the gentle bite Holmes had bestowed on his rear end, and breathed before continuing, “I'll be with him once I'm presentable. Also, tell him that I expect it will be some time before that is the case. Thank you, Lucy.”
The maid nodded and scurried away. Victor waited until her footsteps faded before pouncing on Holmes. “Do you want us to get caught?”
“They already know, Victor. She was hoping to catch us together, didn't you hear how disappointed she was?”
“I thought she was disappointed in me for asking her to tell someone I was dead.”
“You didn't hear the way her breath hitched when yours did.” Holmes kissed Victor's neck softly.
“Perhaps we should ask her to join us?” Victor grinned.
Holmes wrinkled his nose. “You are depraved. And you have the gall to call me insatiable.”
“I was perfectly sated until a few moments ago,” Victor replied reasonably, “and I don't think I'm any more depraved than you are, certainly.”
“When you say you were sated...” Holmes practically purred as he stroked his fingers down Victor's chest.
“It is entirely your fault, of course,” Victor grinned, “I do hope you intend to do something about it.”
“Oh yes,” Holmes smiled broadly and kissed his way to Victor's belly, where he paused to nuzzle the slightly softer flesh there, “my intentions are completely honourable.”
Washed, dressed and looking almost as though he hadn't just been enjoying his best friend rather more thoroughly than the gentleman was likely to deem he should, Victor made his way down stairs after extracting a promise from Holmes that he would follow shortly. He greeted the man who was sipping at a cup of tea and enjoying a piece of toast, who introduced himself as a Mr. Hudson. Victor was just contemplating a slice of toast as well when Holmes appeared, looking much as though he'd rolled out of bed and put on yesterday's clothes. Which, of course, he had.
“Morning Victor.” Holmes called as he flopped into an armchair across from the stranger, instead of beside him at the table.
So much for moral support, Victor thought with some annoyance as he seated himself at the little table in the sun-room. “Not joining us for breakfast, Holmes?”
“No thank you, I've already eaten.” He remarked casually, and Victor felt a slight blush creeping up his neck at the inference.
Clearing his throat to avoid squeaking rather than forming words, Victor turned his attention once again to Hudson. “I must apologise, sir, that you've come all this way in search of my father to find him absent. He's with Mr. Beddoes in Hampshire. If it is quite urgent, I can give you the address.
“No need, I've already got it. I suspected as much when I heard he wasn't 'ere, but I thought I'd hang about to see old Trevor's son.” He grinned, showing a few missing teeth while he was at it, “you've grown into the spitting image of your father at your age, you have.”
“Ah, thank you. Well, if that's all I can do for you..?” Victor smiled a little uncomfortably at the man.
“Right ye are lad, right ye are. I'll leave you to your holiday and be off with myself. A pleasure to meet a young man such as yourself, Master Victor,” Hudson drained his teacup and gathered up his hat, “don't bother getting up for me, you look like you're only half awake.” He wandered off towards the front of the house, leaving Holmes and Victor alone again.
“I am in trouble,” Holmes observed as he got up from the armchair and sat himself down at the table, “you only ever call me 'Holmes' when you're unhappy with me.”
“You are in trouble. I didn't like that man one bit, and you were half way across the room.”
“I apologise for magnifying your discomfort, however I was afforded a much better view from where I was, with the added bonus of being inconspicuous. I think you're right not to like him.” Holmes punctuated his statement with a bite of the toast he'd pilfered from Victor's plate while he was talking.
Perfectly aware that it wasn't worth arguing over Holmes buttering his own toast, Victor simply took up another piece and started again. “What did you see, then?”
“That gentleman was a sailor, as your father was. But I suppose you worked that out for yourself by the comment about you being the 'spitting image'. I do hope so, it means you'll age well.” Holmes grinned.
“I thought you loved me for who I was?” Victor smiled back and took a grateful bite of his toast before Holmes could get at it.
“True, but it's nice to know that people will still be jealous in thirty years' time,” Holmes smiled an honest smile at Victor's blush, “getting back to the topic at hand, I do not believe that man means your father well. He is lazy, as evidenced by the frayed cuffs of his trousers where they should have been turned up, and he is ill-tempered, as no man takes so many human-inflicted injuries by being an easy to get on with sort,” Holmes nodded decisively, “I also suspect he envies your father's success, but that is only natural for a man who has done so poorly in life when his old friends have done so well.”
“All that from the five minutes he was here. I dread to think what you know about me.” Victor picked up a second slice of toast and held it as he buttered it, aware as he was that Holmes had finished his.
“No you don't. You hope I'll be inventive enough to try what you've secretly been wanting since you discovered my 'alarming lack of inhibitions', as you so charitably put it. We'll do that later.”
Victor choked briefly and gulped down the remainder of his tea to clear his throat. “How could you possibly...” he trailed off in startled awe.
“I pay attention. I feel it's a responsible thing to do when one's partner is so much more experienced than oneself.”
Victor coughed again. “No-one's ever done it for me.” He mumbled into his freshly-poured cup of tea.
Holmes lit up at that, and smiled. “I suspected as much, but I wasn't sure. I shall be honoured to be your first in something, at least.”
“You are my spiritual first, Sherlock. Always.” He smiled adoringly across the table at the rumpled man drinking his tea quietly. “Do you think father is in any danger?”
Setting down his teacup, Holmes shook his head thoughtfully. “I don't see why he should be. He'll see right through Hudson as you did, I'm sure. Old friendships only count for so much when one of the parties involved was never a good person to begin with.”
“Thank you. I'm sure you're right. You almost always are.” Victor smiled softly and then wriggled a little in anticipation of Holmes fulfilling his promise. He was quite certain that in this moment, he had everything.
Author: ladylovelace
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/Characters: Sherlock Holmes/Victor Trevor
Disclaimer: Not making any money. At all, from anywhere, but certainly not from this.
Summary: A mysterious visitor interrupts Holmes and Victor's holiday.
Spoilers: GLOR, in a roundabout way.
Warnings: Nope, they're just talking about it this time ;)
Word Count: 1600
Author's Notes: In which we veer away from canon, but not in an especially major way. Promises to beeinmybonnet that I will return Victor in equal or better condition. Also, I am now calling this the 'Early Acquaintance' series, so it will be clear when something belongs to that universe (as distinct from any and all shameless porn I write in amongst it).
“Your nose has gotten sunburned.” Victor pointed out as he ran a finger down the feature in question.
“I suspect that's a sign that we've been outside too often.” Holmes replied with a slow smile before sucking Victor's still-extended finger into his mouth.
“How is it that you've gone from 'nervously virginal' to 'utterly insatiable' in the space of a week? For that matter, how are you even contemplating another round? I don't think I can actually move.” Victor sighed dramatically as he watched Holmes' lips with rapt attention.
Holmes chuckled and released Victor's finger. “What happened to you wearing me out?”
“You happened, apparently. I think I'll sleep for the rest of the week. Just roll me over if you're desperate.”
“I'm always desperate for you, but I wouldn't do that. I will stay here and watch you, though.”
Victor laughed softly. “Watch over me while I sleep, hmm? The wheel turns full circle after all.”
Humming in agreement, Holmes threw an arm around Victor and curled up close to him. “This is a sign, you know. A sign that we need to stop being quite so athletic about it.” He nodded wisely.
“That sounds to me like one of your best ideas to date,” Victor pulled the blankets up over their heads, “do you remember the time-” the sound of the door creaking made both men freeze.
“Sorry to wake you, Master Trevor,” The young maid began nervously. Victor turned and stuck his head out to look at her, “It's just that there's a man outside who says he won't leave until he's found out where Mr. Trevor is. We told him he was away, but now he's insisting on seeing you.”
Whoever this man was, Victor hated him already. “Tell him I've died in the night. Tragic.”
The maid bit her lip. “If that got back to your father, sir, imagine how he'd feel.”
Holmes had decided that kissing his way down Victor's spine was another of his best ideas. Parts of Victor had too, which was making this the most awkward conversation he was ever likely to have. “You're right, I suppose. Bring the gentleman in for a cup of tea, and tell him I-” Victor cut off to stop himself yelping at the gentle bite Holmes had bestowed on his rear end, and breathed before continuing, “I'll be with him once I'm presentable. Also, tell him that I expect it will be some time before that is the case. Thank you, Lucy.”
The maid nodded and scurried away. Victor waited until her footsteps faded before pouncing on Holmes. “Do you want us to get caught?”
“They already know, Victor. She was hoping to catch us together, didn't you hear how disappointed she was?”
“I thought she was disappointed in me for asking her to tell someone I was dead.”
“You didn't hear the way her breath hitched when yours did.” Holmes kissed Victor's neck softly.
“Perhaps we should ask her to join us?” Victor grinned.
Holmes wrinkled his nose. “You are depraved. And you have the gall to call me insatiable.”
“I was perfectly sated until a few moments ago,” Victor replied reasonably, “and I don't think I'm any more depraved than you are, certainly.”
“When you say you were sated...” Holmes practically purred as he stroked his fingers down Victor's chest.
“It is entirely your fault, of course,” Victor grinned, “I do hope you intend to do something about it.”
“Oh yes,” Holmes smiled broadly and kissed his way to Victor's belly, where he paused to nuzzle the slightly softer flesh there, “my intentions are completely honourable.”
Washed, dressed and looking almost as though he hadn't just been enjoying his best friend rather more thoroughly than the gentleman was likely to deem he should, Victor made his way down stairs after extracting a promise from Holmes that he would follow shortly. He greeted the man who was sipping at a cup of tea and enjoying a piece of toast, who introduced himself as a Mr. Hudson. Victor was just contemplating a slice of toast as well when Holmes appeared, looking much as though he'd rolled out of bed and put on yesterday's clothes. Which, of course, he had.
“Morning Victor.” Holmes called as he flopped into an armchair across from the stranger, instead of beside him at the table.
So much for moral support, Victor thought with some annoyance as he seated himself at the little table in the sun-room. “Not joining us for breakfast, Holmes?”
“No thank you, I've already eaten.” He remarked casually, and Victor felt a slight blush creeping up his neck at the inference.
Clearing his throat to avoid squeaking rather than forming words, Victor turned his attention once again to Hudson. “I must apologise, sir, that you've come all this way in search of my father to find him absent. He's with Mr. Beddoes in Hampshire. If it is quite urgent, I can give you the address.
“No need, I've already got it. I suspected as much when I heard he wasn't 'ere, but I thought I'd hang about to see old Trevor's son.” He grinned, showing a few missing teeth while he was at it, “you've grown into the spitting image of your father at your age, you have.”
“Ah, thank you. Well, if that's all I can do for you..?” Victor smiled a little uncomfortably at the man.
“Right ye are lad, right ye are. I'll leave you to your holiday and be off with myself. A pleasure to meet a young man such as yourself, Master Victor,” Hudson drained his teacup and gathered up his hat, “don't bother getting up for me, you look like you're only half awake.” He wandered off towards the front of the house, leaving Holmes and Victor alone again.
“I am in trouble,” Holmes observed as he got up from the armchair and sat himself down at the table, “you only ever call me 'Holmes' when you're unhappy with me.”
“You are in trouble. I didn't like that man one bit, and you were half way across the room.”
“I apologise for magnifying your discomfort, however I was afforded a much better view from where I was, with the added bonus of being inconspicuous. I think you're right not to like him.” Holmes punctuated his statement with a bite of the toast he'd pilfered from Victor's plate while he was talking.
Perfectly aware that it wasn't worth arguing over Holmes buttering his own toast, Victor simply took up another piece and started again. “What did you see, then?”
“That gentleman was a sailor, as your father was. But I suppose you worked that out for yourself by the comment about you being the 'spitting image'. I do hope so, it means you'll age well.” Holmes grinned.
“I thought you loved me for who I was?” Victor smiled back and took a grateful bite of his toast before Holmes could get at it.
“True, but it's nice to know that people will still be jealous in thirty years' time,” Holmes smiled an honest smile at Victor's blush, “getting back to the topic at hand, I do not believe that man means your father well. He is lazy, as evidenced by the frayed cuffs of his trousers where they should have been turned up, and he is ill-tempered, as no man takes so many human-inflicted injuries by being an easy to get on with sort,” Holmes nodded decisively, “I also suspect he envies your father's success, but that is only natural for a man who has done so poorly in life when his old friends have done so well.”
“All that from the five minutes he was here. I dread to think what you know about me.” Victor picked up a second slice of toast and held it as he buttered it, aware as he was that Holmes had finished his.
“No you don't. You hope I'll be inventive enough to try what you've secretly been wanting since you discovered my 'alarming lack of inhibitions', as you so charitably put it. We'll do that later.”
Victor choked briefly and gulped down the remainder of his tea to clear his throat. “How could you possibly...” he trailed off in startled awe.
“I pay attention. I feel it's a responsible thing to do when one's partner is so much more experienced than oneself.”
Victor coughed again. “No-one's ever done it for me.” He mumbled into his freshly-poured cup of tea.
Holmes lit up at that, and smiled. “I suspected as much, but I wasn't sure. I shall be honoured to be your first in something, at least.”
“You are my spiritual first, Sherlock. Always.” He smiled adoringly across the table at the rumpled man drinking his tea quietly. “Do you think father is in any danger?”
Setting down his teacup, Holmes shook his head thoughtfully. “I don't see why he should be. He'll see right through Hudson as you did, I'm sure. Old friendships only count for so much when one of the parties involved was never a good person to begin with.”
“Thank you. I'm sure you're right. You almost always are.” Victor smiled softly and then wriggled a little in anticipation of Holmes fulfilling his promise. He was quite certain that in this moment, he had everything.