in 2010 [Sherlock Holmes] Twenty good reasons
Titolo: Venti buoni motivi
Fandom: Sherlock Holmes
Pairing: Holmes / Watson
Rating: R +
Word Count: 3386 (W)
Notes: Pre-and post-study. POV Holmes.
Written by: P0rn Fest # 4 , prompt "I've never thought of you as ordinary" .
In his tales of my adventures, as he likes to call them, my friend Watson has more often mystified the reality in favor of a dissolution more in keeping with its strict moral, aesthetic effect of a generally more pleasant, or even only attribute to the merits of more than my share. It is one of his faults, not the most insignificant, and one for which I have often criticized. However, I have tolerated - or should I say ignored - almost all of these misrepresentations because, from time to time, I enjoyed the discrepancy with reality or that there was some useful facts remain thoroughly covered by a veil of prose of way. But there is a large section of our first co-existence that Watson has been silent, at first out of ignorance, out of discretion after, and this is where my lack that seeks to address.
My roommate even a month writing lists about myself, about my qualities and my faults. It has entered into a Studio red, but there were many more, on most of them did not get to ever lay hands. Intercepted one day, happily, a list that could be titled "Sherlock Holmes - Reasons to hate him" and told in detail of my worst habits. A voice, if I remember right, read: "Why torment that violin in the hands of the Inquisition as a heretic when I able to make the angels cry." Overactive imagination aside, I found it very recreational.
What my roommate did not know is that I had written a list on his behalf. As the title had only his name, and summed up all the reasons why any I could afford that cost John Watson left the rooms in Baker Street, and me, in search of a better system. Its sole purpose was to remind me, in the ugly evening following a big fight (the first among us, I believe) that I had no desire to return to the state of affairs that preceded Watson, for a number of good reasons. He said this:
1. Alone because you can not afford the rent.
2. Why should you look for another accommodation and can not afford to take time away from the Perkins case.
3. Why can not afford the rent and could not afford to seek another home, you should seek accommodations in Mycroft, and that is to be avoided.
4. Why tolerate his presence and even his company.
5. Why smoke cigarettes excellent brand and has good taste in liquor.
6. Because he loves good conversation but does not talk too much.
7. Why is not greedy or rude in any way nor actively irritating.
8. Why not a drunkard.
9. Why is not an opium addict.
10. Why has only one vice (gambling) and broke it already convinced to limit it significantly.
11. Why not bring women home.
12. Why not bring men home.
13. Why would a doctor were always handy.
14. Why care about your health, but is too polite to let you weigh.
15. Why has poor powers of deduction, but notes tirelessly. (Four Five lists so far.)
16. Why is reassuring and chaos when he is silent in the room.
17. Because it is by far the lesser evil among the four Stamford that you have made.
18. And because he loved men in the past - at least one army (inquire) - and even if the worst happens, do not sue.
19. Why do not you suspect that complaints in each case.
20. Because it is a good man, as ordinary and predictable to the ridiculous.
got to the point I was 19 when Watson had appeared at the base of the stairs in her nightgown and robe for an excuse to ask that absurd argument. Now I do not remember for what we had discussed and I know for certain that we both had a drink too many, and we both said things which we had already repented. I had shaken hands, and Watson was back in the room. Then I added the last item in a hurry and, satisfied with the list, I had locked in my drawer.
I would not have thought to list up to a year since that night. Since I only had the keys to my drawer, and it was essential to our life together (for this reason, for example, the checkbook Watson lay there and not elsewhere), I had not thought of destroying it. After the list was for me a certain sentimental value. A silly indiscretion on my part, as I soon learned.
Watson was sleeping in my bed. Nothing strange about that, he did it for some time now, ever since, his goodness, had the idea in my foolish to declare an evening full of surprises for which alcohol was not entirely foreign. He slept then, but when I made a movement to take the bottle of water bedside, as cautious, he woke up instantly. My Watson had, and still has, good reflexes as a soldier and a light sleeper. Perhaps I had awakened from a bad dream, because he raised one hand shooting to grab his arm and shook for a moment, before waking up at all.
"Mm," he murmured, letting his hand fall back on the pillow. "Hello."
"Hello," I said, removing the cork from the bottle. "Did you sleep well?"
"I slept?" He retorted. "I have not noticed." He opened one eye and nodded a laugh with his mouth closed, a little throaty sound that I filled with silent admiration for no particular reason.
"Did you sleep well, and Russia. I've stopped going to sleep for almost an hour. "
" Now this is certainly a lie. I remember perfectly the time you are referring to, and I was awake. We were both awake. That was the point, I think. "
" Then, "I corrected, giggling silently. "I speak after time."
"I do not follow," he retorted. "What after talking about? Once you've owned up to make you tear the pillow with his teeth, or after you came into my mouth and did not say word for fifteen minutes? The second before the first, I think, therefore we should imagine a one-hour break in between ... "
" Oh, is' Shut up, "I sent him to hell, now laughing openly. I calmed down to drink a few sips from the bottle and passed it to him. Watson sat against the headboard. Her hair was matted and the sign on the back of my teeth, the healthier. "You look lost on a hunting trip," I said, cheerfully.
"I think, but I'm not sure, to give preference to a pack of dogs," consider taking a sip.
"They are less aggressive?"
"affordable."
I put a hand on his chest, slightly to the abdomen in a lazy caress. The day was exceptionally beautiful, or so it seemed. Watson looked at me with one eye, because I was too close, and then cocked his head to kiss me.
"Good morning," murmured on my lips.
"You already said."
"That was a greeting. This is a statement. "
" An optimistic estimate, "I replied, and then:" I was thinking something similar. "
"See, you're not the only one with the power to read minds."
For a moment neither spoke, and ticking in the silence I heard the rain outside the window, beyond the curtains drawn, and saw - clear as if they were open - Baker Street gray and wet under a shower of fine rain. I rejoiced, but at the same time I thought my leg would give him problems as he always did with the wet weather, and my joy is partially dried.
Watson was key between the blankets woven in search of that robe, I remembered I had been there the night before. Then with a sigh of surrender, he dismounted from the bed and gave me a vision of his naked buttocks as he tried the suit under the mattress. She pulled on his pants, contradicting my hopes, and the robe with nothing underneath.
"Where are you going?" I asked first to look better, because sometimes Watson, especially if they are completely naked, has this effect on me.
"Deducilo," he said in fact, going to the door.
"The slipper for me," I shouted back, Watson and I shouted back that I smoked cigarettes honest British or I would have got up to take my burnt tobacco alone.
not immediately returned. Because from my bedroom to the living room there are stairs and cigarettes were in the living room, I did not see much reason to.
"Watson?"
"But where you used them, please?"
"Ah, I finished. I left a new package in my drawer. "
Watson emerged in the doorway. "The key?" I pointed my vest lying on the chair and he retrieved the key and went into the living room, this time leaving the door ajar behind him. I saw it reach my desk and open the drawer, then linger a bit 'too long, and then retrace his steps slowly, cigarette in one hand and a sheet in the other.
"What?" I asked.
Watson clicked his tongue against the palate. He seemed amused, and entertainment, along with a dressing gown open to the bare chest, made him a vision. "You tell me. 'John Watson. One. Alone because you can not afford the rent '. What is the list of reasons why you take me to bed? "
Fun, open robe, her hair disordered evidently a fierce lover and now that language from the house of ill repute would certainly have lost me, if my attention was not captured in large part from the list.
"Stupid question. If observed, would know that paper has more than one year, "he said, holding out his hand to take, but Watson filed there instead of cigarettes and matches. Sat sideways on the bed, bending his leg on the mattress.
"Who is Mycroft," he asked, without looking up.
"A friend."
"I did not know I had."
"You're right, 'friend' is not the best definition."
He looked up. "Lover?"
"My God, no," laughed. "Do not you think if I knew him."
"I gladly will I know if I present it," he said, sweet.
"One day," he promised.
He returned to light, a faint smile. "I say, Holmes, were in no mood for compliments when you wrote this list. I'm not ... I read right? ... 'Actively irritating'? "
" I might reconsider this remark, "I replied. The two wings cast a shadow of her gown on her abdomen pointed. I slid closer, the sheets on my legs.
"'Why not bring men home'. A year ago, you said? "
I studied his expression. "I would have known."
"Oh, yes, definitely. I was already clear at this time. "
" Why are you smiling? "
" Mm? Oh, nothing, nonsense. I was so infatuated that I would not have noticed if a guy brothel in the pants I had marched out on the street, let alone get someone at home. "
was one of the most romantic things I had ever said, in a way not quite conventional, but on the other hand are not usually respond to conventional romance. The lips rested on his shoulder, the sign of the bite, going back from there a slow progression to the neck. Plunged his hand between the wings of her robe, stroking with your fingertips the gap between the pecs.
"Oh, glad to know that I can always come in handy," said Watson, read on. Tilted slightly head to let me access to her throat, and really for a moment I compared it to win a prize that is offered for the final blow to his attacker. My fingers went down on the abdomen, touched the hem of the woolen pants and crossed.
"'The chaos when they are silent in the room'? I have no idea what ... ah, Holmes ... what you mean, but I think one of the most romantic things I have ever said. "
I lifted my head. After a year, sometimes under the illusion I have now seen everything there was to see John Watson, and then things like this happening and I was forced to rethink all of my beliefs. It was a glorious moment in his own way, and I had give me a small private celebration taking his face in her hands and kissing until we were both hot and panting against each other. At this point, Watson had placed the list on the bed and it would perhaps be forgotten if the take off the robe, I had not dropped on the sheet itself, which crackled.
"Let me finish," said Watson, fished with dexterity. I climbed on the wreckage of the sheets in the legs, and resumed exactly where I left off a moment before his throat. So I did not see his expression change, but felt it stiffen beneath me.
"Watson, what is it?" I asked instantly Fearing for an absurd moment of hurt him, maybe hit a nerve, because the wound to the thigh was still new. But it was the wound; Watson was still looking at the paper. She lowered her eyes and closed along the fold, leaving him to fly to the farthest corner of the bed.
"Nothing. Where were we? "He asked with a smile that convinced me, leaning his hands on his hips.
My eyes darted to the list, and his follow my avoided. "What have you read? I do not remember ... "
He pushed me flat on my back, I left one thousand miles from the nonsense that I wrote without thinking a year earlier, and without thinking I decided to keep.
"You're right," he murmured in my mouth. "I am a very ordinary person. And predictable. I've never made any secret, and anyway I can not be more than what they are. "
" You can not because you can not, "I said quickly. "It would be an unprecedented achievement for mankind. Watson, really, those things ... "
" I'm not offended. I seem to be so? I swear that they are not. I love you. And you're awfully right, and we both know that is true, so what good is it offend me? "
" Why is not it, " I said, now truly alarmed. "I was drunk, and I knew for a month. We had a fight. I thought you'd apologize first, and he did it, and I was so drunk that the thing I liked and I added that line. Watson, I never thought an ordinary person. Not you, would be idiots. "
He kissed me, gently. "I'm not offended," he repeated. "Stop talking."
"And you stop repeating it, if it is true. Do not believe a word of what I said. "
" No, but no matter. So why am I here, and even though you do not understand why there is - apart from the fact that I do not drink and do not harbor prostitutes at home - I always knew that your reasons were to be completely different from mine. I know that you could not stay with a great guy. This does not mean that I would not be something better. For you. But I can not, and indeed, Holmes, are not ... "
" A perfect idiot, "I muttered. "This is what you are. And I worse than you, for not having that thing burned the night I wrote it. Watson, will you allow me to never waste my time with someone who's not worth it? "
" Holmes ... "
" There's a line that I wrote a year ago, when I barely knew your name and thought have knew everything there was to understand. And I'm here, here, and I tell you that I kept it in the hands of a week I knew I could never write idiotic bigger than that, and I must imperishable reminder of how dangerous it is to theorize without data Working as a general rule, especially when you're in the middle. "
smiled, bowing her head in the most exquisite of creation, and a lock of hair fell on the weary face as the stem of a flower.
"Do not believe a word, is not it?"
He kissed me again. Watson is not a little loving person, usually, but not in the habit of using his body to avoid a speech.
"Do not believe me," I repeated, away. I was starting to irritate me and the thing would not have led nowhere, but the consciousness of having three imprudent, to have wounded, and being forced into the position of having to disprove myself got on my nerves.
"You, an error of assessment so rough?" Watson objected, gently.
"I commit to one hundred days."
"Do not bet on one."
"This is why not look at it."
"tirelessly, you said."
"When it comes you do not do anything but fall into contradiction. You have a deleterious effect on my brain. "
" Oh, no, "she whispered, joking, and I saw the bitterness that was slowly fading.
"Oh, yes. Your presence is highly damaging. "
" This is not the most comforting thing that I have been told. "
" I'm sorry, I have little practice. But no one else has this power over me. None. "I paused to watch him absorb the information. I seemed to see it physically penetrate into the pores on the cheeks and spread in the form of a faint blush. "Kiss me like you have, do you mind?" I suggested.
was in the middle of the kiss that really knew what kind of situation I had gone to hunt, beginning this liaison with John Watson. I had chosen, for the indefinite future, but as long as possible, to accompany me to a man who would die without remorse at my command, but would suffer terribly (and as far as I could not know) a thing of no importance that I had pinned during a hangover ; I worshiped as a deity but refused to believe that a person wanted by my side just as exceptional, who knew nothing of me but he sent me in confusion for the simple fact of its existence, a man who still, after a year, I knew hardly anything more preferences in terms of tailoring.
It was a bad idea, I decided. Certainly it would kill me before the end of the summer, I left for ol'avrei not see that look that said, I love you . I'm not offended, because it would be stupid of me, and I can not, I must not under any circumstances ever let you think I'm stupid, because that is the day I leave for a better person.
Something had to be done, I thought, fighting to keep oxygen to the brain while Watson took me in the mouth with furious greed, and the room was shaking on its foundations. Something drastic. Something that would prevent him to kill me and leave me. It was necessary; I could not take the risk.
"You're an idiot," boccheggiai, cruelly twisting the strands between your fingers. "It's obvious. Even a child would understand. I would not, would not be here. "
Watson drew back slowly, carrying on as if he had not heard, but I felt his hand shake on the side.
"John," gasped, prayed, stifled a groan.
Watson welcomed me whole again, made me feel the surface of the palate and then the walls of the gorge. I sat up in a spasm of pleasure as strong as a thrill, arching his back, and now I let myself fall back on the pillow.
"I love you," I confessed. "I love you and God, is the worst idea I've ever come. You will be my death. It is clear. "
were the last sounds I was able to articulate coherent, Watson before I took off the power completely. I turned off in her mouth, unable to resist, to tell him to wait in bed because Watson is a soldier that a doctor, and there is a perverse pleasure, known to many men, being dominated by their partners.
"Do you have fun, I bet," mumbled a few moments later, when she lay down beside me with a vague smile.
"Oh, thank God I thought I would have to wait another quarter of an hour."
The
leaned a hand on his temple, clutching thin hair in a firm grip. "You," I repeated, "you will be my death."
"Yes, I heard." He kissed me, the feeling is not pleasant, but then it was not the first time. I took her hand between her legs. "Thanks," she whispered, letting slip rough five fingers on my back.
It was not an ideal situation, of course. Sooner or later I would have killed, or would let me, so I had to find someone else to pay half of the rental or - God forbid - ask for help from Mycroft. I chuckled at the thought. The last time I had read him all marks the passing of John Watson, I knew from the way he looked away abruptly.
"Why are you laughing?"
"None. Nonsense. "
I tried to make it last as much as possible. Within a month or two, Mycroft would stop to look away, and within a year or two I could submit to it. Calmly. With a good excuse. If John Watson was still there.
I had a long list of reasons for hope.
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