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BBC Sherlock: Fanfic: Bed-sharing

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BBC Sherlock: Fanfic: Bed-sharing

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Mar. 19th, 2016 at 8:55 AM

okapi1895.livejournal.com

Title: Bed-sharing
Fandom: BBC Sherlock
Rating: Mature
Length: 357
Content Notes: Bed-sharing; masturbation; Sherlock/John (mutual pining); POV Sherlock; angst
Summary: Sherlock and John share a bed.

A hotel error. One reservation. No extra rooms.

We are sharing a bed for the night. One night only.

A few awkward words. An awkward cough.

You sleep. I do not.

I record the changes in your respiratory rate as you move in and out of different stages of sleep. I try—and fail—to measure the dip in the mattress, your warmth. Minute by minute, you shift closer. Unconsciously, I know, but still. Flattering. Romantic, even. You, moving closer to me, even in your sleep.

I am on my side, facing the wall, curled away. Finally, you are next to me.

My treacherous transport responds to your proximity immediately, but I do not move.

You, on the other hand, begin to rock against me. Minute thrusts. I imagine rolling, offering you the space between my thighs; a well-slicked, well-stretched arsehole; my fist; any orifice or crevice you wished.

A fantasy. I do nothing.

You wake with a swallowed gasp, your body tense.

You check.

I am sleeping, John. See? Not to worry.

You relax. Breathe deeply.

I mourn the loss of your heat as you roll away.

Another check.

Oh, John.

Are you? You are.

Spitting. Taking your prick in hand.

I record the changes in your respiratory rate as you pump, but all data collection is suspended at a final, bitten cry.

“Sh—“

My name. It is my name. Two letters, one sound.

Nothing will ever dissuade me of that fact. Not conjecture. Not wishful thinking. Fact.

You leave. Toilet. You return. Check.

Still sleeping, John.

Then, I hear a second sound, the most beautiful sound I will ever hear: a sigh.

Full, long, unabashed.

Satisfied, sated, content.

I will never hear it again.

By afternoon, you are wedded.

I am in my eightieth year. I confess there are many things that were once, but are no longer, in the grasp of my intellect. I am no longer, for example, able to identify 243 types of tobacco ash. That night, however, is engraved on my memory, chiselled, much like the words on the dark stone before me.

JOHN HAMISH WATSON
BELOVED HUSBAND, FATHER, FRIEND

( Leave a comment )

ancientreader: sebastian stan as bucky looking pensive (Default)

ancientreader wrote:

Mar. 19th, 2016 05:24 pm (UTC)

Tear me up and rip me to pieces, why don't you. But you do it so well.

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okapi1895.livejournal.com wrote:

Mar. 19th, 2016 05:33 pm (UTC)

Would you believe I woke up this morning with this in my head?! Poor me.

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thesmallhobbit.livejournal.com wrote:

Mar. 19th, 2016 05:38 pm (UTC)

Sad, but lovely.

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okapi1895.livejournal.com wrote:

Mar. 19th, 2016 05:40 pm (UTC)

Thank you!

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daria234.livejournal.com wrote:

Mar. 19th, 2016 06:17 pm (UTC)

This is perfect. So hot and so perfectly in Sherlock's head, and so wry and funny about it too, and then so moving at the end. Love it.

Edited 2016-03-19 06:17 pm (UTC)

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okapi1895.livejournal.com wrote:

Mar. 19th, 2016 06:37 pm (UTC)

Thank you very much! I'm glad that you liked it (and found it IC)!

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ext_1620665: knight on horseback (Default)

scfrankles.livejournal.com wrote:

Mar. 19th, 2016 11:50 pm (UTC)

I think this is so well-structured - the story works so well told from Sherlock's POV. And it's got some wonderful lines. I especially liked: You check. I am sleeping, John. See? Not to worry. and Then, I hear a second sound, the most beautiful sound I will ever hear: a sigh.

And the ending is so moving. It's the fact John didn't make a "mistake". He would have been happy with Sherlock but he's obviously had a happy marriage with Mary. That complexity gives your story a psychological depth. I liked the subtlety of the final word: "Friend". I assume it's Mary or their daughter (or children in the plural) who has arranged for the engraving - but whoever it was appreciates the importance of John and Sherlock's friendship. It's something to be recorded alongside "husband and father."

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okapi1895.livejournal.com wrote:

Mar. 20th, 2016 01:52 am (UTC)

Burning the midnight oil, I see, now that you got your wire mended. :)

Thank you! Yeah, the point of the story was not that John made the wrong choice, but really that there was a moment in time when the story could have gone one way and it went another because neither party was willing to communicate what they felt or thought.

Owes a lot to gardnerhill's 60 of last week and her phrase that Holmes was "a quintessential Victorian man," that is to say, stoic and reticent about expressing his feelings. I just moved it to the modern age and put a time stamp (and a wank) on it.

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