Concealed Love
Title: Concealed Love
Author: Alaylith
Rating: G
Characters: Watson, Holmes
Summary: Watson's greatest treasures are not money or valuables, but moments like this. (July Prompt 14)
WordCount: 526
Prompt: July 14 ~~~ TLC, whatever form (and rating) that means to you. Meaning TLC for Watson, not given by.
Author's Note: Perfect prompt for my story, but as I started writing it I got a little carried away from the prompt... There is still TLC, but not as much as I originally had planned (but should be enough to count for the prompt).
Now where the hell to put this one... I really completely lost the control over these little monsters; I am going to create an extra file with a list of their order. ._. Ah, this one happens directly after To follow. :)
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To Watson’s greatest treasures belong moments like this one.
One day ago Watson awoke from his high fever after their latest case when he fell and hit his head hard.
Holmes looked like a mess while he slept at his side and it took Watson hours (and the help of Mrs. Hudson), before Holmes was willing to leave his side to take care of his own needs.
But it did not take long for Holmes to return and Watson fell asleep again to the sound of Holmes already complaining about boredom and how there are no interesting criminals left in London.
Watson does not know how long he slept or what time it is now, but he awoke several minutes ago to complete darkness - only the moon shines softly through the window.
A bony hand strokes through his hair, carefully caressing the bandage around his head and another bony hand holds tightly to his wrist making sure that his heart still pounds strongly.
Watson does not need to open his eyes to know that it is Holmes.
Holmes may claim that he has no feelings and he may be a cold creature to every human being crossing his path, but Watson knows the truth.
When Watson is hurt or sick there is nothing left of Holmes’ mask.
He can hear the fondness in Holmes’ gentle voice when he whispers in the night.
He can feel the care in Holmes’ hands when they ghost over his wounds.
And he can see the love in Holmes’ eyes when he looks at him.
A small chuckle disturbs the silence. “Do you wish to continue feigning to sleep or are you up for some water?”
Watson smiles and opens his eyes to look at his friend, who smiles warmly at him. “How long did you know that I was awake?”
“About 5 minutes before you woke up,” Holmes answers and stands up. He carefully helps Watson into a sitting position, gently tucking the pillows behind his back. Then he takes a glass of water and some powder.
“Here; take this - it should help with the pain.”
“I do not feel any pain,” Watson says, but takes the powder and slowly drinks the water. “Not yet,” Holmes replies and puts the glass away. “You should sleep some more, my friend. You need your strength back.”
Watson nods as he starts to get drowsy. “What exactly was that powder?” he murmurs and Holmes chuckles again, before he helps him to settle back into the bed.
Holmes gently pulls the blanket over his chest and checks his bandage. Then he looks down at him with a small smile. “Do you really need to ask?”
Watson chuckles a bit and sighs contently when Holmes caress his forehead. “Sleep, Watson. I will be here.”
“I know…,” he whispers sleepily and then he falls asleep again, while a bony hand strokes through his hair and another bony hand feels his pulse.
Moments like this belong to Watson’s greatest treasures and they repay him for all the times when Holmes’ mask hides his inner self.
Watson knows of his concealed love and that is enough for him.
Author: Alaylith
Rating: G
Characters: Watson, Holmes
Summary: Watson's greatest treasures are not money or valuables, but moments like this. (July Prompt 14)
WordCount: 526
Prompt: July 14 ~~~ TLC, whatever form (and rating) that means to you. Meaning TLC for Watson, not given by.
Author's Note: Perfect prompt for my story, but as I started writing it I got a little carried away from the prompt... There is still TLC, but not as much as I originally had planned (but should be enough to count for the prompt).
Now where the hell to put this one... I really completely lost the control over these little monsters; I am going to create an extra file with a list of their order. ._. Ah, this one happens directly after To follow. :)
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To Watson’s greatest treasures belong moments like this one.
One day ago Watson awoke from his high fever after their latest case when he fell and hit his head hard.
Holmes looked like a mess while he slept at his side and it took Watson hours (and the help of Mrs. Hudson), before Holmes was willing to leave his side to take care of his own needs.
But it did not take long for Holmes to return and Watson fell asleep again to the sound of Holmes already complaining about boredom and how there are no interesting criminals left in London.
Watson does not know how long he slept or what time it is now, but he awoke several minutes ago to complete darkness - only the moon shines softly through the window.
A bony hand strokes through his hair, carefully caressing the bandage around his head and another bony hand holds tightly to his wrist making sure that his heart still pounds strongly.
Watson does not need to open his eyes to know that it is Holmes.
Holmes may claim that he has no feelings and he may be a cold creature to every human being crossing his path, but Watson knows the truth.
When Watson is hurt or sick there is nothing left of Holmes’ mask.
He can hear the fondness in Holmes’ gentle voice when he whispers in the night.
He can feel the care in Holmes’ hands when they ghost over his wounds.
And he can see the love in Holmes’ eyes when he looks at him.
A small chuckle disturbs the silence. “Do you wish to continue feigning to sleep or are you up for some water?”
Watson smiles and opens his eyes to look at his friend, who smiles warmly at him. “How long did you know that I was awake?”
“About 5 minutes before you woke up,” Holmes answers and stands up. He carefully helps Watson into a sitting position, gently tucking the pillows behind his back. Then he takes a glass of water and some powder.
“Here; take this - it should help with the pain.”
“I do not feel any pain,” Watson says, but takes the powder and slowly drinks the water. “Not yet,” Holmes replies and puts the glass away. “You should sleep some more, my friend. You need your strength back.”
Watson nods as he starts to get drowsy. “What exactly was that powder?” he murmurs and Holmes chuckles again, before he helps him to settle back into the bed.
Holmes gently pulls the blanket over his chest and checks his bandage. Then he looks down at him with a small smile. “Do you really need to ask?”
Watson chuckles a bit and sighs contently when Holmes caress his forehead. “Sleep, Watson. I will be here.”
“I know…,” he whispers sleepily and then he falls asleep again, while a bony hand strokes through his hair and another bony hand feels his pulse.
Moments like this belong to Watson’s greatest treasures and they repay him for all the times when Holmes’ mask hides his inner self.
Watson knows of his concealed love and that is enough for him.