Sherlock Holmes - Observation
Title Observation
Author Kiwi
Fandom Sherlock Holmes 09
Rating PG-13
Characters, Pairing Holmes/Watson
Summary Watson observes the uses of Holmes' intriguing tongue.
Warnings spoilers for the end of the movie, though vague.
Disclaimer This is a work of fiction, and is in no way affiliated with the Sherlock Holmes franchise.
A/N for help_haiti lightning round. For garamsythe. Not beta'd.
Sherlock Holmes has an inexplicably talented tongue. This I've truly discovered in nearly all aspects of our years together, ranging from the abstract to the downright illegal.
For starters, he's quite possibly the smartest man I know, with a unparalleled mastery for language. Books upon books of foreign texts line his shelves, from simple school French to romantic Italian to a very obscure Arabic dialect I've yet to determine just how he came to know. He appears to have a genuine grasp of their intricacies, recognising and conversing in them with learned ease. I have come to enjoy listening to him speak these languages, watching as his tongue forms words I do not know and rolling accents I cannot replicate. Sometimes I'll close my eyes whilst he speaks, leaving my own innermost imagination to conjure pictures of his practiced tongue, curling around each letter as he whispers, "Je t'aime."
Furthermore, Holmes is plagued with a intriguing oral fixation, constantly touching his mouth and tasting things. Perhaps it is not he that is cursed with it, and that it is me that is afflicted with the interest in watching him. In the midst of cordial conversation his fingers will dart to his mouth and receive an offhand nibbling or absent flick of the tongue. I dare say, it is rather difficult to focus on what one is talking about when Holmes' tongue darts out of his mouth in a sudden flash of pink, circling his lips or sliding across his teeth in thought. I try to pretend I do not notice his habit, attempting to retain eye contact whilst he muses about crime and England and concertos, yet this effort is increasingly futile.
Oh, but the most poignant and impressionable uses of Holmes' tongue are involved in exploits I should not be at liberty to detail, though with which my mind is forever enraptured. I can still feel the warm, wet heat of his mouth against my skin, on my throat at one instance and traveling down my stomach at the next. Holmes teases with his tongue on my body as much as he does in speech, amusingly and determined. Playful licks paired with calculated pressure, hands following the lead of his tongue. I recall the way his tongue has investigated, interpreted, and remembered each part of my body, from a sensitive spot behind my ears to my shoulder blades to, most engagingly, up and down my cock. Holmes will taunt me with well-planned ministrations and inventive twists. I cannot fathom how he has deciphered such uses for a tongue, though each time he puts his methods to use I cannot overcome the pulsing in my ears long enough to inquire.
So when Mary and I listen to his explanation regarding Blackwood's seemingly miraculous survival and Holmes quips, "My tongue's going, I'll be no use to you at all," I cannot help but go slightly dry in the mouth and feel my palm slick with sweat upon my cane. Slicing the man down from his hanging rig, I wonder what uses he has in mind.
Author Kiwi
Fandom Sherlock Holmes 09
Rating PG-13
Characters, Pairing Holmes/Watson
Summary Watson observes the uses of Holmes' intriguing tongue.
Warnings spoilers for the end of the movie, though vague.
Disclaimer This is a work of fiction, and is in no way affiliated with the Sherlock Holmes franchise.
A/N for help_haiti lightning round. For garamsythe. Not beta'd.
Sherlock Holmes has an inexplicably talented tongue. This I've truly discovered in nearly all aspects of our years together, ranging from the abstract to the downright illegal.
For starters, he's quite possibly the smartest man I know, with a unparalleled mastery for language. Books upon books of foreign texts line his shelves, from simple school French to romantic Italian to a very obscure Arabic dialect I've yet to determine just how he came to know. He appears to have a genuine grasp of their intricacies, recognising and conversing in them with learned ease. I have come to enjoy listening to him speak these languages, watching as his tongue forms words I do not know and rolling accents I cannot replicate. Sometimes I'll close my eyes whilst he speaks, leaving my own innermost imagination to conjure pictures of his practiced tongue, curling around each letter as he whispers, "Je t'aime."
Furthermore, Holmes is plagued with a intriguing oral fixation, constantly touching his mouth and tasting things. Perhaps it is not he that is cursed with it, and that it is me that is afflicted with the interest in watching him. In the midst of cordial conversation his fingers will dart to his mouth and receive an offhand nibbling or absent flick of the tongue. I dare say, it is rather difficult to focus on what one is talking about when Holmes' tongue darts out of his mouth in a sudden flash of pink, circling his lips or sliding across his teeth in thought. I try to pretend I do not notice his habit, attempting to retain eye contact whilst he muses about crime and England and concertos, yet this effort is increasingly futile.
Oh, but the most poignant and impressionable uses of Holmes' tongue are involved in exploits I should not be at liberty to detail, though with which my mind is forever enraptured. I can still feel the warm, wet heat of his mouth against my skin, on my throat at one instance and traveling down my stomach at the next. Holmes teases with his tongue on my body as much as he does in speech, amusingly and determined. Playful licks paired with calculated pressure, hands following the lead of his tongue. I recall the way his tongue has investigated, interpreted, and remembered each part of my body, from a sensitive spot behind my ears to my shoulder blades to, most engagingly, up and down my cock. Holmes will taunt me with well-planned ministrations and inventive twists. I cannot fathom how he has deciphered such uses for a tongue, though each time he puts his methods to use I cannot overcome the pulsing in my ears long enough to inquire.
So when Mary and I listen to his explanation regarding Blackwood's seemingly miraculous survival and Holmes quips, "My tongue's going, I'll be no use to you at all," I cannot help but go slightly dry in the mouth and feel my palm slick with sweat upon my cane. Slicing the man down from his hanging rig, I wonder what uses he has in mind.