Learning curve: Lag Phase
Fandom: Sherlock
Kink: Threesome
Pairing: Sherlock/Jim/John
Summary: After discovering that Jim was abused by Sebastian, Sherlock and John save him and settle him into 221B.
Prequel: Normality
The smell of stale cigarette smoke.
It was familiar, it was comforting. It was Sherlock.
Jim woke, pushing aside the sinfully fluffy coverlet and sitting up slowly. He didn’t really remember what happened after the cry in the lab. He only remembered Sherlock’s comforting embrace.
Comfort. Now there was a strange concept for him.
“You’re awake.” John said from the doorway. He offered Jim a robe. Sherlock’s robe. Jim looked down and noticed he was naked save for his boxers. He felt very exposed all of a sudden and took the robe in a hurry. He was losing his mind. Nothing used to faze him at all. Nothing. Now that his ‘normal’ had been challenged, Jim was thrown for a loop.
“Did you do anything to me?” he asked John quietly. He wouldn’t be surprised if they had. John gave him a look of utter disgust and revulsion that Jim actually was quite hurt to see.
“Why on earth would we- no. Hell no. Bloody hell, why would you think that?!” John retreated into the safety of the kitchen where Sherlock was idly plucking at strings, He was wearing the other robe, Jim noted as he stood awkwardly there.
He had no reason to challenge Sherlock any longer. Crime was a way for him to survive Sebastian. If he had no reason to stay with Sebastian, then he had no more reason for crime. What would become of the consulting criminal, if he refused to consult for crimes any longer? What would Sherlock think, of him? He would cease to be important. He would become something boring. Sherlock discarded those boring things. Jim didn’t want to be discarded.
“Sherlock.” The name fell from his lips unbidden. The detective looked up.
“You’re up.” He muttered with a strange look in his eyes. He looked as if he was about to say something but John shut him up with a singular look.
Jim watched their wordless reaction. It was clear that they hadn’t initiated anything sexual although both parties were just, aching, for it.
“What is this.” Jim asked, too tired to play anymore games. “You abduct me, upend my life and let me sleep in your bedroom. Sherlock what game is this because if it’s a dance, Daddy always had two left feet.” He whispered.
Sherlock set his violin aside and pushed himself to his feet, not once breaking eye contact with Jim. He took one step towards the criminal but was stopped by John.
“This is kindness, Jim.” John said softly. “This is the right thing to do.”
“Even though I’m a criminal and I’ve killed people?” Jim challenged them.
John and Sherlock shared a look and then both looked away simultaneously.
“We in this room, all of us, have blood on our hands.” John muttered. Jim raised an eyebrow at Sherlock.
“Even if it is, indirect.” Sherlock added. He stepped closer to Jim. The scent that was Sherlock, a light musk of half a day without a shower, the stale cigarette smoke and a slight sharpness of the product John used in his hair, overwhelmed Jim. He closed his eyes and breathed deep.
“What now?” He asked. Sebastian could track him down easily. Sebastian had just as wide a network of contacts and friends far deadlier than Jim ever had. If Sherlock had taken him away just to discard him, Jim was little more than a dead man walking.
Of course, if he escaped and returned to Sebastian, the man might be a little more inclined to forgive him but Jim. Jim didn’t know if he could go back. He couldn’t go back to something that wasn’t… wasn’t real. It wasn’t love. If it wasn’t love then he didn’t want to go back.
“Do you plan on continuing to be a consulting criminal?” Sherlock asked quietly. Jim shivered at the way Sherlock’s voice held just a little bit of threat. The correct answer was of course ‘No’. Or at least, it was the answer least likely to get him into a lot of trouble but with Sherlock, one never knew. He might want the answer to be ‘Yes’ just so that Sherlock wouldn’t be bored.
“There is no right or wrong answer.” John interjected before Jim could reply. “Just ask yourself if you want to continue and tell us right now. Just answer.”
Now there was an order if he ever heard one. Jim felt something coil tight in his lower abdomen.
“No.” He whispered before he could stop himself. “He got violent. So I made crimes for him to be violent in. Then it became a habit.” Jim shivered. And what a habit it was.
He laughed. He couldn’t help it. He laughed at the absurdity of it all. A consulting criminal, a consulting detective and a doctor walked into a bar. They have an amicable chat and nothing else happens. Yet. How absurd was that?
But then again, the phrase ‘consulting criminal’ was quite absurd too.
“What do you want to do then?” Sherlock pressed with the same intensity he regarded his cases.
When Jim was seven, he wanted the beatings to stop. When he was eight, he only wanted enough food to eat. When he was nine, he wanted a way to lessen the pain. When he was fifteen, he wanted a way to stop the other men from leaving before paying. When he was eighteen, he wanted to be able to live alone and not be bothered. When he was twenty, he wanted someone who wanted him. When he finally found someone who wanted him, he wanted that someone to never be bored.
Now, Jim didn’t know what he wanted.
“I don’t know.” He admitted. Sherlock let out a breath and ran his hands through his hair. John looked a little put out at this admission.
“I think.” Jim quickly added, recognizing the signs of impatience. Impatience, in his experience, was never good. It always ended with a broken something.
“I could try to be… normal?” He said quickly. The word sounded strange even on his tongue. Sherlock just stared at him.
“You’re insane.” The detective muttered. John glared at him. Jim made a note to check Sherlock for ‘marks’ later. If there were any, he was definitely escaping back to Sebastian, normal be damned.
“Do you even know, what normal is?” John asked him, taking his wrist gently and leading him to the sofa so that he could sit. Jim thought he did but apparently, he was so screwed up that even his ‘normal’ wasn’t normal at all.
Jim took John’s momentary gentleness as an opportunity. He hesitated but then moved to straddle the doctor.
“You could teach me.” He said, lightly resting his hands on John’s chest. Trading sexual favours for information was normal right? He was sure of that much because so many of his clients had done the same.
There was a growl from Sherlock and Jim was hauled away abruptly by the neck of the robe, arms a flailing and knocking the newspapers off the table.
“Stop it, Sherlock. You know he’s got problems.” John grabbed the detective’s wrists and forced him to let go. Jim sat on the floor, staring up at them.
So even that, wasn’t normal.
“He’s like you, Sherlock. Only worse.” John was muttering to the taller man. “He really doesn’t know. You remember how that was, don’t you? A bit not good? Very not good? Bloody well not good?”
The doctor soothed the detective so easily that Jim marveled that they weren’t together yet.
Sherlock was muttering ‘I remember’ over and over again to each incident John pointed out until he calmed down. Sherlock extended a hand. Jim flinched out of habit and there was silence. John murmured a swear under his breath, turning his head away as Sherlock helped Jim get off the floor and onto the sofa.
“Please, show me what’s normal.” Jim whispered. If even the most carnal things he knew weren’t normal. Then what was?
John let out a long breath and huffed.
“Alright.” He said. Sherlock nodded stiffly.
“We’ll show you what’s normal.”
Jim closed his eyes and breathed out, letting himself relax for the moment.
Just the moment.
Exponential Growth
Kink: Threesome
Pairing: Sherlock/Jim/John
Summary: After discovering that Jim was abused by Sebastian, Sherlock and John save him and settle him into 221B.
Prequel: Normality
The smell of stale cigarette smoke.
It was familiar, it was comforting. It was Sherlock.
Jim woke, pushing aside the sinfully fluffy coverlet and sitting up slowly. He didn’t really remember what happened after the cry in the lab. He only remembered Sherlock’s comforting embrace.
Comfort. Now there was a strange concept for him.
“You’re awake.” John said from the doorway. He offered Jim a robe. Sherlock’s robe. Jim looked down and noticed he was naked save for his boxers. He felt very exposed all of a sudden and took the robe in a hurry. He was losing his mind. Nothing used to faze him at all. Nothing. Now that his ‘normal’ had been challenged, Jim was thrown for a loop.
“Did you do anything to me?” he asked John quietly. He wouldn’t be surprised if they had. John gave him a look of utter disgust and revulsion that Jim actually was quite hurt to see.
“Why on earth would we- no. Hell no. Bloody hell, why would you think that?!” John retreated into the safety of the kitchen where Sherlock was idly plucking at strings, He was wearing the other robe, Jim noted as he stood awkwardly there.
He had no reason to challenge Sherlock any longer. Crime was a way for him to survive Sebastian. If he had no reason to stay with Sebastian, then he had no more reason for crime. What would become of the consulting criminal, if he refused to consult for crimes any longer? What would Sherlock think, of him? He would cease to be important. He would become something boring. Sherlock discarded those boring things. Jim didn’t want to be discarded.
“Sherlock.” The name fell from his lips unbidden. The detective looked up.
“You’re up.” He muttered with a strange look in his eyes. He looked as if he was about to say something but John shut him up with a singular look.
Jim watched their wordless reaction. It was clear that they hadn’t initiated anything sexual although both parties were just, aching, for it.
“What is this.” Jim asked, too tired to play anymore games. “You abduct me, upend my life and let me sleep in your bedroom. Sherlock what game is this because if it’s a dance, Daddy always had two left feet.” He whispered.
Sherlock set his violin aside and pushed himself to his feet, not once breaking eye contact with Jim. He took one step towards the criminal but was stopped by John.
“This is kindness, Jim.” John said softly. “This is the right thing to do.”
“Even though I’m a criminal and I’ve killed people?” Jim challenged them.
John and Sherlock shared a look and then both looked away simultaneously.
“We in this room, all of us, have blood on our hands.” John muttered. Jim raised an eyebrow at Sherlock.
“Even if it is, indirect.” Sherlock added. He stepped closer to Jim. The scent that was Sherlock, a light musk of half a day without a shower, the stale cigarette smoke and a slight sharpness of the product John used in his hair, overwhelmed Jim. He closed his eyes and breathed deep.
“What now?” He asked. Sebastian could track him down easily. Sebastian had just as wide a network of contacts and friends far deadlier than Jim ever had. If Sherlock had taken him away just to discard him, Jim was little more than a dead man walking.
Of course, if he escaped and returned to Sebastian, the man might be a little more inclined to forgive him but Jim. Jim didn’t know if he could go back. He couldn’t go back to something that wasn’t… wasn’t real. It wasn’t love. If it wasn’t love then he didn’t want to go back.
“Do you plan on continuing to be a consulting criminal?” Sherlock asked quietly. Jim shivered at the way Sherlock’s voice held just a little bit of threat. The correct answer was of course ‘No’. Or at least, it was the answer least likely to get him into a lot of trouble but with Sherlock, one never knew. He might want the answer to be ‘Yes’ just so that Sherlock wouldn’t be bored.
“There is no right or wrong answer.” John interjected before Jim could reply. “Just ask yourself if you want to continue and tell us right now. Just answer.”
Now there was an order if he ever heard one. Jim felt something coil tight in his lower abdomen.
“No.” He whispered before he could stop himself. “He got violent. So I made crimes for him to be violent in. Then it became a habit.” Jim shivered. And what a habit it was.
He laughed. He couldn’t help it. He laughed at the absurdity of it all. A consulting criminal, a consulting detective and a doctor walked into a bar. They have an amicable chat and nothing else happens. Yet. How absurd was that?
But then again, the phrase ‘consulting criminal’ was quite absurd too.
“What do you want to do then?” Sherlock pressed with the same intensity he regarded his cases.
When Jim was seven, he wanted the beatings to stop. When he was eight, he only wanted enough food to eat. When he was nine, he wanted a way to lessen the pain. When he was fifteen, he wanted a way to stop the other men from leaving before paying. When he was eighteen, he wanted to be able to live alone and not be bothered. When he was twenty, he wanted someone who wanted him. When he finally found someone who wanted him, he wanted that someone to never be bored.
Now, Jim didn’t know what he wanted.
“I don’t know.” He admitted. Sherlock let out a breath and ran his hands through his hair. John looked a little put out at this admission.
“I think.” Jim quickly added, recognizing the signs of impatience. Impatience, in his experience, was never good. It always ended with a broken something.
“I could try to be… normal?” He said quickly. The word sounded strange even on his tongue. Sherlock just stared at him.
“You’re insane.” The detective muttered. John glared at him. Jim made a note to check Sherlock for ‘marks’ later. If there were any, he was definitely escaping back to Sebastian, normal be damned.
“Do you even know, what normal is?” John asked him, taking his wrist gently and leading him to the sofa so that he could sit. Jim thought he did but apparently, he was so screwed up that even his ‘normal’ wasn’t normal at all.
Jim took John’s momentary gentleness as an opportunity. He hesitated but then moved to straddle the doctor.
“You could teach me.” He said, lightly resting his hands on John’s chest. Trading sexual favours for information was normal right? He was sure of that much because so many of his clients had done the same.
There was a growl from Sherlock and Jim was hauled away abruptly by the neck of the robe, arms a flailing and knocking the newspapers off the table.
“Stop it, Sherlock. You know he’s got problems.” John grabbed the detective’s wrists and forced him to let go. Jim sat on the floor, staring up at them.
So even that, wasn’t normal.
“He’s like you, Sherlock. Only worse.” John was muttering to the taller man. “He really doesn’t know. You remember how that was, don’t you? A bit not good? Very not good? Bloody well not good?”
The doctor soothed the detective so easily that Jim marveled that they weren’t together yet.
Sherlock was muttering ‘I remember’ over and over again to each incident John pointed out until he calmed down. Sherlock extended a hand. Jim flinched out of habit and there was silence. John murmured a swear under his breath, turning his head away as Sherlock helped Jim get off the floor and onto the sofa.
“Please, show me what’s normal.” Jim whispered. If even the most carnal things he knew weren’t normal. Then what was?
John let out a long breath and huffed.
“Alright.” He said. Sherlock nodded stiffly.
“We’ll show you what’s normal.”
Jim closed his eyes and breathed out, letting himself relax for the moment.
Just the moment.
Exponential Growth