?

Log in

Previous Entry | Next Entry

Title: A Journey to the Core (Part 6 of ?)
Author: [info]nunewesen
Fandom: Sherlock Holmes (ACD)
Genre: pre-slash, slash, romance
Rating: R to be on the safe side
Pairing(s): Holmes/Watson (eventually)

Summary:
Dr. Watson is finding himself unusually uncomfortable in his friendship with Sherlock Holmes. He decides to take a break and visit an old friend and client to clear his mind. But things do not work out exactly as anticipated, and so this particular journey takes him much further than simply into the country of Devonshire...

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5

~~~


Taking a Breath

The light lunch with Holmes and Sir Henry is very likely to always remain in my memory.

We were only the three of us, as Dr. Mortimer had already left in order to attend to his patients, and there was such a rare mood cast over our little group, that it would take a better writer than me to do it full justice. One of the words, though, that always come to my mind when I think of this day is glowing.

The sun was shining warmly through the windows, filling the room with a magnificent light. Sir Henry was in very good spirits, and whenever I looked at my friend, there was this... yes... this glowing in is eyes. Not the fierce energy that came upon him when he was hunting a criminal, and not the sparks of fascination over an intricate chemical experiment. This was different and, whatever it was, rather unprecedented.

Sir Henry had started to talk about his earlier life in America, and Holmes asked him several questions as he had never been there himself. Maybe, I thought to myself, he also considered it easier to listen than to come up with a coherent conversation himself, his mind being distracted by what had just transpired between us... as my own mind most certainly was.

To be more precise, I felt simply blown away! His lips in my palm, the expression on his face, his smile, his words... all of these seemed to be (though in a rather guarded manner) promises of things yet to come. And never before had he acted like this with me... or... or with anyone? Who was I to know? Today he had shown me a side of himself that I had never suspected there, and I was only too eager to explore this new facet of his, and explore it thoroughly. After all, he himself had invited me to do so.

He was sitting on the opposite side of the table, too far away to reach, even if it had been possible for me to try. And yet, I could feel him. Oh... how I could feel him! His presence filled the room, his voice was a caress, and every glance he ventured into my direction was like a physical touch.

It was not for the first time that day that I wondered how I could have lived side by side with this man for so many years, and without noticing the sensuality of his voice, especially when it trailed down into the lower registers. And how come that his elegant, enticing hands had left me so very unaffected for such a long time?

For a moment or two I allowed my imagination to go astray - because one thing was certain: I was all but unaffected by now! And I could not help but musing about getting up under the pretense of a headache, making my excuses to Sir Henry and having my friend following me after only so much time as tact affords.

Without any verbal form of communication we would agree to retire to my bedroom, which would be only dimly lit and all silent except the sound of our breathing and the rustling of clothing against skin and other fabrics and then descending to the floor. I would taste his lips, and his mouth would be not only yielding to my desires but even urge me forward, demanding more. I would echo his moans of pleasure, his body would be pressed against mine, unmistakeably showing me what he wanted and needed. Eventually we would stumble towards the bed, and then we -

"Would you please pass me the salt, my dear fellow?"

I jerked out of my reverie and met Holmes' intense gaze. Maybe I blushed - it would not surprise me at all - for I felt a heatwave surging up. My friend looked into my eyes as if he knew exactly what I had been thinking, but he was neither mocking nor chiding me. The message was only: I understand... And: This is not the right time or place... And he was right, of course.

I reached for the salt and handed it over, and it was with the hint of a smile, as he allowed his fingers to brush against mine when he took it.


Chapter 7