Fic: Hearts Filthy Mess, 7/7 | Sherlock (BBC) | NC-17 | Sherlock/Greg, Sherlock/John
Title: Hearts Filthy Mess
Authors: aeron_lanart, fred_bear aka
Jennybel75, mandatorily
Fandom: Sherlock (BBC)
Characters: John Watson, Sherlock Holmes, Greg Lestrade
Pairings: Sherlock/Greg, Sherlock/John
Rating: NC-17 overall for language, concepts and smut.
Spoilers: Spoilers up to and including S2 ep1
Warnings: Beware of the Angst! Slight injury in the service of a case.
Summary: "You see but you do not observe." John discovers that impressions, like nail varnish, can hide much beneath an impenetrably opaque surface.
Disclaimer: Sherlock Holmes belongs to ACD, though this incarnation is the responsibility of a certain Mr Moffat, Mr Gatiss and the BBC. No copyright infringement intended, no profit made; this is just for fun!
Word Count: just over 13,000
A/N 1: Written in collaboration for this prompt on the Sherlock kink meme friending post -
John has a bit of a kink for pretty boys in eyeliner (he refers to it as guyliner). He suspects it comes from listening to lots of Bowie as a kid and watching Rocky Horror once too often with Harry. One day John comes home to find Sherlock wearing guyliner, maybe for a case, maybe for an experiment. It makes John all hot, bothered and wibbly. Bonus points if Sherlock's wearing the type of clothes you'd go out goth clubbing in. Can also be read at AO3.
Please note that the fic is complete.
If you want to avoid the actual smut, just skip Chapter 6.
Hearts Filthy Mess
*
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
*
~ Chapter 7 ~
*
It was good to lie there, even though the floor was not exactly the most comfortable place, to breathe in the heady and unfamiliar scent of Sherlock and sex combined, to enjoy the heat between them where their bodies pressed close against each other and forget about the world for a while. But soon - far too soon - the world, and reality, intruded and John found it increasingly difficult to ignore the clamour of his whirling thoughts.
He hitched himself up on one elbow and let his gaze sweep over Sherlock from his artfully messy hair, across his face, and down his body until his eyes were caught by the mess he'd made of the PVC trousers. A smile tugged at his mouth, almost reluctantly, and John had to admit that no matter what the fallout from this night happened to be, he would never forget the sight of Sherlock sprawled on the floor, dishevelled, debauched, sexy as hell and covered in John's come. If he was lucky, he would also never have cause to regret it. A quick glance demonstrated that Sherlock's eyes were shut, the blue glitter and eyeliner stark against his flushed, but still pale skin.
He reached out a tentative hand to brush across Sherlock's hip, but Sherlock's eyelids didn't even flicker in response to his touch. He swallowed and took a deep breath, he had to say something but he wasn't quite sure what to say, not when he didn't really know - besides the obvious physical evidence - what had happened and what it meant.
"Sherlock, just what the hell was that?"
"Something that needed to happen. Obviously."
Sherlock's eyes remained firmly closed, as if the question did not merit his full attention. Maybe it didn't, to him, but to John it was pretty damn important. He wanted, no, needed, to know if it would change things between them. If he was honest, he was very definitely interested in things changing between them, as long as it was due to increased intimacy and not because Sherlock decided he never wanted to set eyes on him again. John sighed; there was nothing for it, he would have to bloody well ask and hope that Sherlock didn't cut him down.
"That’s all very well, but... " his voice petered out, there were so many potential conclusions swirling around in his head. Most of them were not good and involved various reasons for one or the other of them having to leave Baker Street. He took another breath and tried again, "Where do we go from here?" John hated how uncertain he sounded, but there was no way he could voice his concern and sound confident about the outcome, not when it meant so much to him.
Sherlock's eyes opened, but his expression didn't change from the relaxed half-smile he'd been wearing since he landed on the floor. John took that as a good sign.
"Bed," Sherlock said.
"Bed?" John almost squeaked in reply, it was kind of embarrassing but in his defence he could say it wasn't exactly the answer he'd been expecting and he certainly hadn't been prepared for it - or his reaction.
"Preferably mine."
"Your bed?"
"I believe that is what I said, yes." The half-smile on Sherlock's face had graduated to a full-on smirk, he was obviously enjoying having wrong-footed John, though John really couldn't bring himself to care about that, not when it was essentially an invitation. He still didn't quite believe it.
"Your bed? Both of us?"
"Yes John, my bed, both of us. I doubt either of us could manage the stairs at present." Sherlock had a point, John's legs still felt like jelly. Which meant it was probably just a convenient but unusually courteous offer to a friend, and he was reading a deeper meaning into it than Sherlock intended. John's heart plummeted again and he shifted away from Sherlock, putting some distance between them.
"I don't think…" John began, only to be interrupted by Sherlock grabbing his wrist and pulling him closer again.
"You're thinking too much, for a change. Perhaps this will provide some clarification of my intent." Sherlock tugged hard on his wrist which caused John to sprawl across him. He drew a breath to voice a protest but the slide of Sherlock's lips against his and Sherlock's hands in his hair stole it away and made him breathless yet again. It wasn't a hungry and desperate kiss like they'd shared earlier but, as Sherlock had assured, there was no mistaking the intent behind its gentle thoroughness. John's only complaint was that the kiss didn't last long enough, but even so, it seemed to have robbed him of intelligent speech.
"Um. Ah," he stuttered, and settled for giving Sherlock a huge grin instead of trying to make semi-appropriate noises. Sherlock returned the grin with a slow and lazy, but almost feral, smile that warmed the cold places in John's heart. He decided tomorrow could go hang, he would do what he had been doing since he'd first met Sherlock; rush headlong after him wherever he led and damn the consequences.
"Bed?" Sherlock asked once more. John felt the word as a puff of breath across his skin as much as he heard it. He leant in with a quick brush of lips, it was as much an answer as anything else, but then Sherlock frowned at him and he couldn't help but chuckle as he hauled himself upright. It seemed a verbal answer was demanded and of course there was only one possible response.
"Why not?" John held out his hand and Sherlock took it, the smile on his face now incandescent.
To hell with the fact that, down the line, this might turn out to have not been a good idea; they could worry about that another time. Right now, it was what they both wanted and that was enough for John.
~E~
A/N 2: Thanks for sticking with us! We have one last thing to share... Hearts Filthy Mess, The Fanmix! Can be listened to while reading along, or just on its own, and it kind of tells the same story as the fic. Listen to what helped inspire us! Interested? Then vist mandatorily's place and ENJOY. Also now available from Sendspace. Link needs to be updated regularly so let me know if it is broken.
Authors: aeron_lanart, fred_bear aka
Jennybel75, mandatorily
Fandom: Sherlock (BBC)
Characters: John Watson, Sherlock Holmes, Greg Lestrade
Pairings: Sherlock/Greg, Sherlock/John
Rating: NC-17 overall for language, concepts and smut.
Spoilers: Spoilers up to and including S2 ep1
Warnings: Beware of the Angst! Slight injury in the service of a case.
Summary: "You see but you do not observe." John discovers that impressions, like nail varnish, can hide much beneath an impenetrably opaque surface.
Disclaimer: Sherlock Holmes belongs to ACD, though this incarnation is the responsibility of a certain Mr Moffat, Mr Gatiss and the BBC. No copyright infringement intended, no profit made; this is just for fun!
Word Count: just over 13,000
A/N 1: Written in collaboration for this prompt on the Sherlock kink meme friending post -
John has a bit of a kink for pretty boys in eyeliner (he refers to it as guyliner). He suspects it comes from listening to lots of Bowie as a kid and watching Rocky Horror once too often with Harry. One day John comes home to find Sherlock wearing guyliner, maybe for a case, maybe for an experiment. It makes John all hot, bothered and wibbly. Bonus points if Sherlock's wearing the type of clothes you'd go out goth clubbing in. Can also be read at AO3.
Please note that the fic is complete.
If you want to avoid the actual smut, just skip Chapter 6.
Hearts Filthy Mess
*
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
*
~ Chapter 7 ~
*
It was good to lie there, even though the floor was not exactly the most comfortable place, to breathe in the heady and unfamiliar scent of Sherlock and sex combined, to enjoy the heat between them where their bodies pressed close against each other and forget about the world for a while. But soon - far too soon - the world, and reality, intruded and John found it increasingly difficult to ignore the clamour of his whirling thoughts.
He hitched himself up on one elbow and let his gaze sweep over Sherlock from his artfully messy hair, across his face, and down his body until his eyes were caught by the mess he'd made of the PVC trousers. A smile tugged at his mouth, almost reluctantly, and John had to admit that no matter what the fallout from this night happened to be, he would never forget the sight of Sherlock sprawled on the floor, dishevelled, debauched, sexy as hell and covered in John's come. If he was lucky, he would also never have cause to regret it. A quick glance demonstrated that Sherlock's eyes were shut, the blue glitter and eyeliner stark against his flushed, but still pale skin.
He reached out a tentative hand to brush across Sherlock's hip, but Sherlock's eyelids didn't even flicker in response to his touch. He swallowed and took a deep breath, he had to say something but he wasn't quite sure what to say, not when he didn't really know - besides the obvious physical evidence - what had happened and what it meant.
"Sherlock, just what the hell was that?"
"Something that needed to happen. Obviously."
Sherlock's eyes remained firmly closed, as if the question did not merit his full attention. Maybe it didn't, to him, but to John it was pretty damn important. He wanted, no, needed, to know if it would change things between them. If he was honest, he was very definitely interested in things changing between them, as long as it was due to increased intimacy and not because Sherlock decided he never wanted to set eyes on him again. John sighed; there was nothing for it, he would have to bloody well ask and hope that Sherlock didn't cut him down.
"That’s all very well, but... " his voice petered out, there were so many potential conclusions swirling around in his head. Most of them were not good and involved various reasons for one or the other of them having to leave Baker Street. He took another breath and tried again, "Where do we go from here?" John hated how uncertain he sounded, but there was no way he could voice his concern and sound confident about the outcome, not when it meant so much to him.
Sherlock's eyes opened, but his expression didn't change from the relaxed half-smile he'd been wearing since he landed on the floor. John took that as a good sign.
"Bed," Sherlock said.
"Bed?" John almost squeaked in reply, it was kind of embarrassing but in his defence he could say it wasn't exactly the answer he'd been expecting and he certainly hadn't been prepared for it - or his reaction.
"Preferably mine."
"Your bed?"
"I believe that is what I said, yes." The half-smile on Sherlock's face had graduated to a full-on smirk, he was obviously enjoying having wrong-footed John, though John really couldn't bring himself to care about that, not when it was essentially an invitation. He still didn't quite believe it.
"Your bed? Both of us?"
"Yes John, my bed, both of us. I doubt either of us could manage the stairs at present." Sherlock had a point, John's legs still felt like jelly. Which meant it was probably just a convenient but unusually courteous offer to a friend, and he was reading a deeper meaning into it than Sherlock intended. John's heart plummeted again and he shifted away from Sherlock, putting some distance between them.
"I don't think…" John began, only to be interrupted by Sherlock grabbing his wrist and pulling him closer again.
"You're thinking too much, for a change. Perhaps this will provide some clarification of my intent." Sherlock tugged hard on his wrist which caused John to sprawl across him. He drew a breath to voice a protest but the slide of Sherlock's lips against his and Sherlock's hands in his hair stole it away and made him breathless yet again. It wasn't a hungry and desperate kiss like they'd shared earlier but, as Sherlock had assured, there was no mistaking the intent behind its gentle thoroughness. John's only complaint was that the kiss didn't last long enough, but even so, it seemed to have robbed him of intelligent speech.
"Um. Ah," he stuttered, and settled for giving Sherlock a huge grin instead of trying to make semi-appropriate noises. Sherlock returned the grin with a slow and lazy, but almost feral, smile that warmed the cold places in John's heart. He decided tomorrow could go hang, he would do what he had been doing since he'd first met Sherlock; rush headlong after him wherever he led and damn the consequences.
"Bed?" Sherlock asked once more. John felt the word as a puff of breath across his skin as much as he heard it. He leant in with a quick brush of lips, it was as much an answer as anything else, but then Sherlock frowned at him and he couldn't help but chuckle as he hauled himself upright. It seemed a verbal answer was demanded and of course there was only one possible response.
"Why not?" John held out his hand and Sherlock took it, the smile on his face now incandescent.
To hell with the fact that, down the line, this might turn out to have not been a good idea; they could worry about that another time. Right now, it was what they both wanted and that was enough for John.
~E~
A/N 2: Thanks for sticking with us! We have one last thing to share... Hearts Filthy Mess, The Fanmix! Can be listened to while reading along, or just on its own, and it kind of tells the same story as the fic. Listen to what helped inspire us! Interested? Then vist mandatorily's place and ENJOY. Also now available from Sendspace. Link needs to be updated regularly so let me know if it is broken.