Sherlock Ficlet: Aftercare (NOT GEN, R)
Title: Aftercare
Fandom: Sherlock (BBC 2010)
Rating/Warnings: Slash, Sherlock/BYOPOV. R. KINK: Implied.
A/N: Done in first person POV so you can bring your own pairing. Originally posted anonymously for this prompt, which is more graphic than this ficlet. Still rather new at this slash business, so, um, yeah. *blushes* [LJ-Only]
Summary: It scares me how far Sherlock needs to go to shut his mind down.
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It scares me how far Sherlock needs to go to shut his mind down. What he wants me to do to him before he can truly let go.
Sherlock lays on the ravaged bed, breath heaving, whimpering on the inhale, looking like a crime scene. His skin sheens with sweat and other fluids, mine and his. His hands are still bound; he's laying half on them, shoulder bent up, head sagging to the mattress. Nothing about his position or the things we brought into the bed and into each other can be comfortable, but he's unaware of it, any of it. His eyes are unfocused and he gulps at the air and shakes.
My own breath is still fast, and I try to slow it, steady it, but watching him, I can't. It hurts to see him like this, hurts that he needs me for this. I can't not touch him. God help me I did this to him, he asked me to do this to him, begged. I can't not touch him. I can't leave him in this state.
I put out my hand, rest it on his shoulder and he keens like, like nothing I've heard, like a dog abandoned and lying wounded on a roadside, like one more touch will break him forever, but I can't stop. I can't leave him like this.
"Shh," I say, uselessly, sliding my hand up to cup his neck. "It's all right, Sherlock. I've got you."
He leans his head into my touch, eyes slipping closed, breath starting to hitch and shudder.
"I've got you."
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(That's all)