Sherlock Holmes - Tea and Sympathy
Title: Tea and Sympathy
Author: ladylovelace
Rating: PG
Pairing/Characters: Holmes/Victor Trevor
Disclaimer: I rather feel that they own me.
Summary: Holmes comes to Victor to escape someone else.
Spoilers: None.
Warnings: None.
Word Count: 1200
Author's Notes: In the same universe as Reminisces of an Early Acquaintance, though it isn't necessary to have read that to get this. Once again, for beeinmybonnet. Also filling the schmoop_bingo square 'cuddling'.
Continues from Reminisces of an Early Acquaintance
Victor opened the door to a very grumpy looking Holmes. Of course, he would never use the word 'grumpy' to Holmes' face; he knew better. But that was the word to describe him.
“You'd better come in.” He stepped back and opened the door wide. “You look awful.”
“Thank you so much.” Holmes swept into the room. “It's lovely to be flattered by your friends, after all.”
“But it would be nicer to be sympathised with, wouldn't it?” Victor headed to the alcohol boiler he'd picked up since Holmes had started visiting him, and set about making tea.
“You've tidied.” Holmes remarked, making himself at home on the settee.
“I have. I thought I'd lost Cerberus in the mess. He was outside, but it frightened me enough that I decided to straighten the place up a bit.”
“Not because of company?”
“No, Sherlock. Not because of company. Not even because of you, I know you like a mess.”
“I'm not company?” Holmes sounded almost hurt at the notion. Victor turned and smiled softly.
“You are a friend.” Victor turned back to the tea. “Are you going to tell me what's happened, then?”
Holmes sighed loudly enough to be heard across the room. “I was accosted by Musgrave.”
“Ah, I see. Very grave indeed. I suppose he wanted to make small talk.” And then possibly ask you back to his rooms, knowing the little weasel.
“Yes. He invited me to lunch, but I told him I was otherwise engaged. He saw fit to press on said engagement, and I do think he is now under the impression that I have slipped away for a liason with a mysterious woman. So I've come running to you.” He sighed dramatically again.
“I could always put on a dress, if you like.” Victor smirked as he walked over with the tea-tray.
“Don't be ridiculous, Victor.” Holmes peered into the teacups and selected the one with no milk.
“I'm not being ridiculous. If you need someone to show up as your mysterious lady-friend to avoid the attentions of Reginald Musgrave, I can don a dress and a wig.” Victor sipped his tea cautiously.
“This sounds like something you've done before. Why am I not surprised?”
“Oh, woe is me, for I have lost my ability to surprise Sherlock Holmes.” Victor sat back and held the back of his hand to his forehead. “Whatever shall I do with myself?”
Holmes swatted at Victor's arm with the back of his hand. “Do behave yourself.”
“I've never behaved myself before. I don't see why I should start now.” Victor returned to his tea.
“You are incorrigible.” Holmes laughed softly and sipped his tea as well.
“But you love me anyway.” Victor froze in horror the second the words left his mouth. Of all the stupid things to say! It was true that he was infatuated, but Holmes was obviously not interested, since the first kiss they'd shared last week had also been their last. Letting too much of his own feelings show was just what he needed to do around a man who could read him as if he were a children's book.
“True enough.” Holmes responded idly. Victor wondered if it was possible to actually melt with relief, and a few seconds later went back to his tea. He didn't even dare wonder what exactly Holmes meant by it. There was a muffled bark from somewhere, and Holmes jumped a little.
“Still worried about poor Cerberus?” Victor teased, thankful for the distraction.
“There is nothing poor about your dog, Victor. Except perhaps 'poorly behaved'.”
Victor hummed and set his teacup down. “You are a difficult man, Sherlock.”
Holmes slid over closer to his friend. “And yet, you still love me.”
For a second, Victor thought his heart might stop. Then he realised, with more disappointment than he thought he was capable of feeling, that Holmes wasn't aware of how true that was. “Yes, I do,” he replied quietly, “no matter how difficult you are.”
A bright grin spread over Holmes' face, and he drained the rest of his tea in one swallow. Victor tried not to watch his throat work too closely. “May I have a cuddle?” He looked up with impossibly large, soft eyes.
Setting down his teacup, Victor smiled softly. “Of course you can.” He kicked his shoes off and held his arms out. Holmes arranged them so that Victor was leaning back on the arm of the settee, and he was leaning back on Victor, as they had done before.
Victor settled his arms around Holmes' waist, and his chin on the other man's shoulder. “Comfortable?” He whispered softly in Holmes' ear.
“Always, with you.” Holmes snuggled closer and relaxed, allowing his weight to rest entirely on his friend. Victor didn't mind in the least, and not only because there wasn't much weight to hold.
“I'm very glad to hear that,” Victor sighed softly, “so, what is this in aid of?”
“I just like being near you,” Holmes stated, and then paused unsurely for a moment, “is that wrong?”
“No, Sherlock,” Victor stroked gently over Holmes' stomach, “it's not wrong. It's perfectly all right.” Victor sighed again, and closed his eyes. “I like being near you too.”
Holmes made a happy little sound in the back of his throat, and closed his eyes as well, letting his head fall back onto Victor's shoulder. He stayed like that for long moments before shifting and opening his eyes. “Are you ever going to kiss me again?”
As much as he would have liked to hide it, Victor was quite certain someone in the next room would have heard his hitched breath. “Do you want me too?” The hope in his voice was audible even to him.
“It was nice. You can do it again, if you like.” Holmes behaved as though this was much the same as making a cup of tea. And maybe to him it was, all affection being equal.
Pausing for a moment, Victor dissected that statement to be sure that he had heard correctly, before shifting to place a very soft kiss on the corner of Holmes' lips.
Having settled back into his friend, Holmes merely hummed contentedly, again with his eyes closed. He turned his head a little, and Victor took it as the sign it was, and pressed another, infinitely gentle, chaste kiss to the full of his lips, this time. Holmes hummed again, and smiled softly. “This is nice.” He mumbled.
“Have you been not sleeping again?”
Holmes grunted softly in the affirmative, too busy enjoying the warmth and affection to mind the note of reproach.
“How long for?”
“Thirty five hours? Thirty six, perhaps?” Holmes spoke softly, tiredness apparently catching up with him again.
Victor sighed in the long-suffering manner he had perfected over the years, but seemed to use an awful lot on Holmes. “Sleep here. You're safe.”
“I know.” Holmes replied softly, and began settling into a peaceful doze.
Onward to No Mean Art
Author: ladylovelace
Rating: PG
Pairing/Characters: Holmes/Victor Trevor
Disclaimer: I rather feel that they own me.
Summary: Holmes comes to Victor to escape someone else.
Spoilers: None.
Warnings: None.
Word Count: 1200
Author's Notes: In the same universe as Reminisces of an Early Acquaintance, though it isn't necessary to have read that to get this. Once again, for beeinmybonnet. Also filling the schmoop_bingo square 'cuddling'.
Continues from Reminisces of an Early Acquaintance
Victor opened the door to a very grumpy looking Holmes. Of course, he would never use the word 'grumpy' to Holmes' face; he knew better. But that was the word to describe him.
“You'd better come in.” He stepped back and opened the door wide. “You look awful.”
“Thank you so much.” Holmes swept into the room. “It's lovely to be flattered by your friends, after all.”
“But it would be nicer to be sympathised with, wouldn't it?” Victor headed to the alcohol boiler he'd picked up since Holmes had started visiting him, and set about making tea.
“You've tidied.” Holmes remarked, making himself at home on the settee.
“I have. I thought I'd lost Cerberus in the mess. He was outside, but it frightened me enough that I decided to straighten the place up a bit.”
“Not because of company?”
“No, Sherlock. Not because of company. Not even because of you, I know you like a mess.”
“I'm not company?” Holmes sounded almost hurt at the notion. Victor turned and smiled softly.
“You are a friend.” Victor turned back to the tea. “Are you going to tell me what's happened, then?”
Holmes sighed loudly enough to be heard across the room. “I was accosted by Musgrave.”
“Ah, I see. Very grave indeed. I suppose he wanted to make small talk.” And then possibly ask you back to his rooms, knowing the little weasel.
“Yes. He invited me to lunch, but I told him I was otherwise engaged. He saw fit to press on said engagement, and I do think he is now under the impression that I have slipped away for a liason with a mysterious woman. So I've come running to you.” He sighed dramatically again.
“I could always put on a dress, if you like.” Victor smirked as he walked over with the tea-tray.
“Don't be ridiculous, Victor.” Holmes peered into the teacups and selected the one with no milk.
“I'm not being ridiculous. If you need someone to show up as your mysterious lady-friend to avoid the attentions of Reginald Musgrave, I can don a dress and a wig.” Victor sipped his tea cautiously.
“This sounds like something you've done before. Why am I not surprised?”
“Oh, woe is me, for I have lost my ability to surprise Sherlock Holmes.” Victor sat back and held the back of his hand to his forehead. “Whatever shall I do with myself?”
Holmes swatted at Victor's arm with the back of his hand. “Do behave yourself.”
“I've never behaved myself before. I don't see why I should start now.” Victor returned to his tea.
“You are incorrigible.” Holmes laughed softly and sipped his tea as well.
“But you love me anyway.” Victor froze in horror the second the words left his mouth. Of all the stupid things to say! It was true that he was infatuated, but Holmes was obviously not interested, since the first kiss they'd shared last week had also been their last. Letting too much of his own feelings show was just what he needed to do around a man who could read him as if he were a children's book.
“True enough.” Holmes responded idly. Victor wondered if it was possible to actually melt with relief, and a few seconds later went back to his tea. He didn't even dare wonder what exactly Holmes meant by it. There was a muffled bark from somewhere, and Holmes jumped a little.
“Still worried about poor Cerberus?” Victor teased, thankful for the distraction.
“There is nothing poor about your dog, Victor. Except perhaps 'poorly behaved'.”
Victor hummed and set his teacup down. “You are a difficult man, Sherlock.”
Holmes slid over closer to his friend. “And yet, you still love me.”
For a second, Victor thought his heart might stop. Then he realised, with more disappointment than he thought he was capable of feeling, that Holmes wasn't aware of how true that was. “Yes, I do,” he replied quietly, “no matter how difficult you are.”
A bright grin spread over Holmes' face, and he drained the rest of his tea in one swallow. Victor tried not to watch his throat work too closely. “May I have a cuddle?” He looked up with impossibly large, soft eyes.
Setting down his teacup, Victor smiled softly. “Of course you can.” He kicked his shoes off and held his arms out. Holmes arranged them so that Victor was leaning back on the arm of the settee, and he was leaning back on Victor, as they had done before.
Victor settled his arms around Holmes' waist, and his chin on the other man's shoulder. “Comfortable?” He whispered softly in Holmes' ear.
“Always, with you.” Holmes snuggled closer and relaxed, allowing his weight to rest entirely on his friend. Victor didn't mind in the least, and not only because there wasn't much weight to hold.
“I'm very glad to hear that,” Victor sighed softly, “so, what is this in aid of?”
“I just like being near you,” Holmes stated, and then paused unsurely for a moment, “is that wrong?”
“No, Sherlock,” Victor stroked gently over Holmes' stomach, “it's not wrong. It's perfectly all right.” Victor sighed again, and closed his eyes. “I like being near you too.”
Holmes made a happy little sound in the back of his throat, and closed his eyes as well, letting his head fall back onto Victor's shoulder. He stayed like that for long moments before shifting and opening his eyes. “Are you ever going to kiss me again?”
As much as he would have liked to hide it, Victor was quite certain someone in the next room would have heard his hitched breath. “Do you want me too?” The hope in his voice was audible even to him.
“It was nice. You can do it again, if you like.” Holmes behaved as though this was much the same as making a cup of tea. And maybe to him it was, all affection being equal.
Pausing for a moment, Victor dissected that statement to be sure that he had heard correctly, before shifting to place a very soft kiss on the corner of Holmes' lips.
Having settled back into his friend, Holmes merely hummed contentedly, again with his eyes closed. He turned his head a little, and Victor took it as the sign it was, and pressed another, infinitely gentle, chaste kiss to the full of his lips, this time. Holmes hummed again, and smiled softly. “This is nice.” He mumbled.
“Have you been not sleeping again?”
Holmes grunted softly in the affirmative, too busy enjoying the warmth and affection to mind the note of reproach.
“How long for?”
“Thirty five hours? Thirty six, perhaps?” Holmes spoke softly, tiredness apparently catching up with him again.
Victor sighed in the long-suffering manner he had perfected over the years, but seemed to use an awful lot on Holmes. “Sleep here. You're safe.”
“I know.” Holmes replied softly, and began settling into a peaceful doze.
Onward to No Mean Art