Fic: Denouement
Title Denouement
Rating R
Fandom Sherlock BBC
Characters -
Pairing Sherlock/John
Summery When it finally does happen, it isn't as spectacular as anyone thought
When they do finally fulfill the dreams of half of Scotland Yard and go about that sex thing they'd all been hinting about, it isn't a big deal. It happened, and that was as far as either thought it through. Thankfully, it'd been absent of Sherlock's long winded speechs, where he really thought he had to explain every minutia to John (frequently he did have to.) But here, John knew what he meant when they stopped, breath fogging in the air, no one around for miles, the abandoned railway being just that-abandoned.
The brute force of Sherlock's body to his sent John careening back into a wall, where all the air was significantly squeezed from his lungs in a quick sigh, and his head cracked against brick. Thoughtlessly he gasped for air, eyes lowered, and grabbed at Sherlock's coat.
And that was that.
Lips seeking skin fruitlessly, the two rocked and gaped at each other, eyes down and staring at the ground-level nowhere, where clumsy hands fought to dig cloth out of the way and press quickly heating skin together. There was something like laughter from someone as their foreheads knocked together, shaky breaths uttered into one airspace, and cold fingers wrapped snugly around flesh exposed to Christmas air. John inhaled brokenly, eyes sliding shut when they pushed together, sticky and warm and sliding effortlessly in their dual grasp.
It came down to a mutual handjob in a darkened area of town, with one kiss shared messily between them when they were climaxing and desperate for the final push. Nothing beyond a careless grunt was uttered, no eye contact was made, and they only barely, barely clung together in the slick and sticky aftermath.
John was dimly aware of the hand by his head, bracing Sherlock against the wall and him, so he wouldn't crush him again. John's clinging hands dropped, allowing him to leave.
John ignored the cold left behind when Sherlock did move, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and walked home with him, chatting about murder.
Sherlock ignored the tug in his chest when John avoided his eye, tied up his scarf, and hailed a cab.
And that was that.
End.
Rating R
Fandom Sherlock BBC
Characters -
Pairing Sherlock/John
Summery When it finally does happen, it isn't as spectacular as anyone thought
When they do finally fulfill the dreams of half of Scotland Yard and go about that sex thing they'd all been hinting about, it isn't a big deal. It happened, and that was as far as either thought it through. Thankfully, it'd been absent of Sherlock's long winded speechs, where he really thought he had to explain every minutia to John (frequently he did have to.) But here, John knew what he meant when they stopped, breath fogging in the air, no one around for miles, the abandoned railway being just that-abandoned.
The brute force of Sherlock's body to his sent John careening back into a wall, where all the air was significantly squeezed from his lungs in a quick sigh, and his head cracked against brick. Thoughtlessly he gasped for air, eyes lowered, and grabbed at Sherlock's coat.
And that was that.
Lips seeking skin fruitlessly, the two rocked and gaped at each other, eyes down and staring at the ground-level nowhere, where clumsy hands fought to dig cloth out of the way and press quickly heating skin together. There was something like laughter from someone as their foreheads knocked together, shaky breaths uttered into one airspace, and cold fingers wrapped snugly around flesh exposed to Christmas air. John inhaled brokenly, eyes sliding shut when they pushed together, sticky and warm and sliding effortlessly in their dual grasp.
It came down to a mutual handjob in a darkened area of town, with one kiss shared messily between them when they were climaxing and desperate for the final push. Nothing beyond a careless grunt was uttered, no eye contact was made, and they only barely, barely clung together in the slick and sticky aftermath.
John was dimly aware of the hand by his head, bracing Sherlock against the wall and him, so he wouldn't crush him again. John's clinging hands dropped, allowing him to leave.
John ignored the cold left behind when Sherlock did move, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and walked home with him, chatting about murder.
Sherlock ignored the tug in his chest when John avoided his eye, tied up his scarf, and hailed a cab.
And that was that.
End.