What People Do, 1cmismatched37September 22 2011, 06:19:30 UTC
"My employer knows, naturally, but we've a bit of an unspoken agreement that I will not divulge any details." She still sounded formal, though it might just be her brazen outlining of her expectations of a relationship that still seemed quite fictional to John, who was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that, yes, apparently people do do this. "I've set aside time for lunch sometime next week in order to meet and discuss further intricacies of this arrangement, but for the sake of time, I assumed you wouldn't be averse to getting straight to it."
John swallowed and raised his eyebrows slightly. "Good, that's--" He took a deep breath. "Quite good actually. Listen, this isn't some sort of trick, is it? I mean--"
Iris laughed which caused John to smile. "It's not," she assured him. "You're nervous," she noted, her voice softening. "At any point you can change your mind." She carefully took John's glass from his tensed hand and set both flutes on the table before taking his hands in hers. "Alright there?"
"Yes," John breathed, not realizing that he'd been suppressing the desire to do so, and edged closer to her.
Iris's lips found his. The kiss was almost chaste, but not disappointingly so. "Good." She gave a slight tug on his hands in the direction of the bed and John toed off his shoes as he followed.
"I'm naturally blonde," she murmured, "and I'm allergic to latex."
It was John's turn to laugh. "I thought it would be good to know," she blushed. "I've been lead to think that it can be a shock when, if you'll pardon the expression, the carpet doesn't match the curtains?"
"Good of you to tell me," John said as seriously as he could through the absurdity of Mycroft's assistant using that expression of all expressions. They dissolved into giggles punctuated by kisses getting slowly more familiar. She sobered a bit and pulled back just as they reached the foot of the bed. "We're both clean, and I'm on birth control, but I will request that we use protection, at least for this time. I have latex-free condoms with me, of course."
John nodded before realizing the full implications of her statement. "How do you know--?"
"Who do you think writes most of the briefs for Mycroft?" Of course, John realized as soon as she started her reply with a slight look of annoyance. The formality was definitely vanishing quickly, he observed, at Iris referring to Mister Holmes as Mycroft. "Your medical records were of some concern when you came to live at with his brother. You two have a remarkable way of convincing everyone around you that your relationship is more than friendly." She released John’s hands and turned away from him, fluidly pulling her hair aside. "It’s endearing, really. Unzip me?"
"I didn't realize that your job was so... " John trailed off to find the right word and the pull to the nearly invisible zipper. "Involved," he settled on as the dress parted revealing Iris's pale skin, the line of her spine interrupted only by the black lace of her undergarments. She sighed appreciatively and shrugged the sleeves from her arms, turning back as the dress pooled at her feet and she stepped out of her shoes and the pile of violet fabric.
"Quite. You're allowed to touch me, you know." John laughed again and obliged, placing one hand on the curve of her waist and tracing the edges of her bra with the other. She hummed. "It's kind of the point," she smiled before kissing him again, her manicured fingers finding the hem of his jumper, gently edging it up his torso. "Is there anything I should be aware of?" She asked. "Your shoulder?" John pulled his jumper and undershirt off together and tossed it to rest among the wreckage of his shoes and socks.
John swallowed and raised his eyebrows slightly. "Good, that's--" He took a deep breath. "Quite good actually. Listen, this isn't some sort of trick, is it? I mean--"
Iris laughed which caused John to smile. "It's not," she assured him. "You're nervous," she noted, her voice softening. "At any point you can change your mind." She carefully took John's glass from his tensed hand and set both flutes on the table before taking his hands in hers. "Alright there?"
"Yes," John breathed, not realizing that he'd been suppressing the desire to do so, and edged closer to her.
Iris's lips found his. The kiss was almost chaste, but not disappointingly so. "Good." She gave a slight tug on his hands in the direction of the bed and John toed off his shoes as he followed.
"I'm naturally blonde," she murmured, "and I'm allergic to latex."
It was John's turn to laugh. "I thought it would be good to know," she blushed. "I've been lead to think that it can be a shock when, if you'll pardon the expression, the carpet doesn't match the curtains?"
"Good of you to tell me," John said as seriously as he could through the absurdity of Mycroft's assistant using that expression of all expressions. They dissolved into giggles punctuated by kisses getting slowly more familiar. She sobered a bit and pulled back just as they reached the foot of the bed. "We're both clean, and I'm on birth control, but I will request that we use protection, at least for this time. I have latex-free condoms with me, of course."
John nodded before realizing the full implications of her statement. "How do you know--?"
"Who do you think writes most of the briefs for Mycroft?" Of course, John realized as soon as she started her reply with a slight look of annoyance. The formality was definitely vanishing quickly, he observed, at Iris referring to Mister Holmes as Mycroft. "Your medical records were of some concern when you came to live at with his brother. You two have a remarkable way of convincing everyone around you that your relationship is more than friendly." She released John’s hands and turned away from him, fluidly pulling her hair aside. "It’s endearing, really. Unzip me?"
"I didn't realize that your job was so... " John trailed off to find the right word and the pull to the nearly invisible zipper. "Involved," he settled on as the dress parted revealing Iris's pale skin, the line of her spine interrupted only by the black lace of her undergarments. She sighed appreciatively and shrugged the sleeves from her arms, turning back as the dress pooled at her feet and she stepped out of her shoes and the pile of violet fabric.
"Quite. You're allowed to touch me, you know." John laughed again and obliged, placing one hand on the curve of her waist and tracing the edges of her bra with the other. She hummed. "It's kind of the point," she smiled before kissing him again, her manicured fingers finding the hem of his jumper, gently edging it up his torso. "Is there anything I should be aware of?" She asked. "Your shoulder?" John pulled his jumper and undershirt off together and tossed it to rest among the wreckage of his shoes and socks.
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