Fic: Blush
Sep. 21st, 2008 01:34 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
daylynTitle: Blush
Author: Daylyn
Fandom: Sherlock Holmes
Pairing: Holmes/Watson
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Not mine, although actually in the public domain. No profit is intended.
Summary: Holmes’ faint blush leads to startling revelations.
Author’s Note: Originally written for the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
cox_and_co Beeton Off Challenge, but it doesn’t quite fit the prompt of: "Tokens of affection - words aren't always the clearest speech." So I guess that this is more “inspired” by the challenge. I put the fic away for a few weeks, looked at it again tonight, and thought, “Hey, this isn’t so bad. I think I’ll post it after all.” So… enjoy!
Blush
By Daylyn
It was the faint blush that gave him away.
Sherlock Holmes turned from me, a tinge of red coloring his cheeks. If I had not been so focused upon him, I would never have noticed.
This was not a blush of a coy damsel, seeking to ensnare the object of her desire and further her social standing. Instead, the blush was closer to one of a shy maid, who knows that her affections will be rebuffed but who cannot quite quell her inappropriate feelings.
I sat there, bemused with myself that I would ever compare Sherlock Holmes to a shy maid, and then realization hit—Holmes had feelings toward me.
I must have gasped at my epiphany.
Holmes turned to me, his eyes widening in shock as deduced my realization. He was, of course, a master of observation, and could determine a man’s innermost thoughts with a slightest glance. Holmes observed the world, whereas I, with my far more limited abilities, only observed Holmes with such careful scrutiny.
His blush deepened into a mortified flush and he quickly dropped his eyes to the floor. I could hear the crackling of the fire in our cozy rooms, and his quick breath that seemed like panic. He went to rise and I knew he intended to flee to the privacy of his bedroom, burying his heartfelt longings and his embarrassment deep within him, so far that they would never see the light of day.
To this day, I cannot explain my actions. As Holmes tensed, preparing to stand, I reached out and grabbed his wrist.
There was a jolt as energy seemingly passed between us, flowing back and forth. I did not hold his wrist tightly; he could have thrown me off with little effort. Instead, his gaze focused on our connection and then slowly his head lifted and his eyes met mine.
I felt another jolt at that look.
I had my second epiphany of the night. I realized then why I had observed Holmes so closely for so many years.
He opened his mouth, to say what I do not know. Still not believing my daring, I gently placed the index finger of my free hand to his lips.
He closed his mouth slightly and did not speak, but his lips still touched my finger. I could feel the hot moistness of his breath. I traced his lips slowly, feeling their chapped dryness. His breath came faster. He never took his eyes from my face.
Slowly, ever so slowly, his tongue slipped out and then gently drew my finger into his mouth. This time it was my breath that increased.
Holmes’ movements were slow, wet, sensual. My passion was rising as he suckled my finger. Finally I could take no more. I withdrew from his mouth, tracing his moisture down his cheek. Then, carefully and with great delicacy, I brought my lips to his, giving him every opportunity to pull away. He did not.
Our first kiss was almost timid, hesitant. I pulled back slightly and allowed our foreheads to meet. We were both panting now, whether from desire or fear I know not. I gently ran my fingers through his hair.
Our second kiss was far firmer, needier. We clutched at each other as our passions began to spiral.
Holmes pulled away and stood abruptly. I felt a moment of panic that he would stride from the room, but then he turned to me and held out his hand. I grasped it in my own, feeling that wonderful jolt again.
He led me to his bedroom and laid me down on that narrow bed. Not a word was said as we undressed each other and engaged in acts unspeakable in polite society. Those framed criminals decorating his wall were our only witnesses and, although our acts might have shocked their namesakes, their silence was guaranteed. The only sounds were our cries of joy, and longing, and desire, all intermingled with buried fears and apprehensions. It was the most wonderful, and terrifying, carnal experience I ever had.
When we were spent, I drew him to me, holding tightly, unwilling to let go. I could feel his racing heartbeat and knew it matched my own.
We fell asleep, entwined with each other.
I awoke to find myself alone, daylight streaming through the curtains. I looked around to find that Holmes had provided me with my dressing gown and a change of clothes. I hurried to attend to my toilet.
As I prepared myself for the day, it was all I could do not to flee from our rooms. I knew I had to put a stop to this. Such behavior was madness, especially given our close relationships with men of the law. We would be found out, surely. No, I decided, this had to end.
Armed with my new found determination, I marched to the sitting room. I stopped in the doorway, my breath catching.
Holmes was sitting at the table, an uneaten breakfast before him, reading through the morning papers. It was a scene of utter domesticity and one that I had seen, literally, hundreds of times before. Yet this morning it was different, for last night I had lain with Sherlock Holmes, and I knew now, looking at him, that notwithstanding any other decisions on my part, that he held my heart and had for years.
The truth was actually liberating.
He raised he head and looked at me. I could see a tightness in his eyes and knew that he expected a proclamation ending our brief affair. Perhaps he even intended to make one himself.
I gave him no time to consider his options. I strode across the room, purposefully, until I stood mere inches from him. He looked up at me, his eyes wide.
I leaned down and kissed him, hard, and let him feel all my love, and passion, and admiration, and longing. He froze momentarily, and then returned the kiss, his desires just as fierce.
We broke apart and I sat across from him. He did not quite look at me; instead his gaze returned to the papers before him. He did, however, pick up a piece of toast and begin to nibble upon it.
“Any news?” I asked him. My voice seemed unnaturally loud, and I realized with a start that neither of us had spoken since the prior evening, before these life changing events had occured.
Holmes looked up, startled, and I gestured to the papers.
“Ah, no, Watson,” he remarked, quirking his lips in a half smile. “No news. Although Lestrade sent a telegram asking us to meet him at the train station this afternoon.”
“Us?” I enquired.
“Well, if you would be so kind.”
“I would be delighted, my dear Holmes.”
His eyes met mine and were filled with warmth and unexpected happiness. I assumed that I looked much the same way.
He returned his attention back to the papers, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. I began to attack the breakfast before me, smiling all the while.
Author: Daylyn
Fandom: Sherlock Holmes
Pairing: Holmes/Watson
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Not mine, although actually in the public domain. No profit is intended.
Summary: Holmes’ faint blush leads to startling revelations.
Author’s Note: Originally written for the
cox_and_co Beeton Off Challenge, but it doesn’t quite fit the prompt of: "Tokens of affection - words aren't always the clearest speech." So I guess that this is more “inspired” by the challenge. I put the fic away for a few weeks, looked at it again tonight, and thought, “Hey, this isn’t so bad. I think I’ll post it after all.” So… enjoy!Blush
By Daylyn
It was the faint blush that gave him away.
Sherlock Holmes turned from me, a tinge of red coloring his cheeks. If I had not been so focused upon him, I would never have noticed.
This was not a blush of a coy damsel, seeking to ensnare the object of her desire and further her social standing. Instead, the blush was closer to one of a shy maid, who knows that her affections will be rebuffed but who cannot quite quell her inappropriate feelings.
I sat there, bemused with myself that I would ever compare Sherlock Holmes to a shy maid, and then realization hit—Holmes had feelings toward me.
I must have gasped at my epiphany.
Holmes turned to me, his eyes widening in shock as deduced my realization. He was, of course, a master of observation, and could determine a man’s innermost thoughts with a slightest glance. Holmes observed the world, whereas I, with my far more limited abilities, only observed Holmes with such careful scrutiny.
His blush deepened into a mortified flush and he quickly dropped his eyes to the floor. I could hear the crackling of the fire in our cozy rooms, and his quick breath that seemed like panic. He went to rise and I knew he intended to flee to the privacy of his bedroom, burying his heartfelt longings and his embarrassment deep within him, so far that they would never see the light of day.
To this day, I cannot explain my actions. As Holmes tensed, preparing to stand, I reached out and grabbed his wrist.
There was a jolt as energy seemingly passed between us, flowing back and forth. I did not hold his wrist tightly; he could have thrown me off with little effort. Instead, his gaze focused on our connection and then slowly his head lifted and his eyes met mine.
I felt another jolt at that look.
I had my second epiphany of the night. I realized then why I had observed Holmes so closely for so many years.
He opened his mouth, to say what I do not know. Still not believing my daring, I gently placed the index finger of my free hand to his lips.
He closed his mouth slightly and did not speak, but his lips still touched my finger. I could feel the hot moistness of his breath. I traced his lips slowly, feeling their chapped dryness. His breath came faster. He never took his eyes from my face.
Slowly, ever so slowly, his tongue slipped out and then gently drew my finger into his mouth. This time it was my breath that increased.
Holmes’ movements were slow, wet, sensual. My passion was rising as he suckled my finger. Finally I could take no more. I withdrew from his mouth, tracing his moisture down his cheek. Then, carefully and with great delicacy, I brought my lips to his, giving him every opportunity to pull away. He did not.
Our first kiss was almost timid, hesitant. I pulled back slightly and allowed our foreheads to meet. We were both panting now, whether from desire or fear I know not. I gently ran my fingers through his hair.
Our second kiss was far firmer, needier. We clutched at each other as our passions began to spiral.
Holmes pulled away and stood abruptly. I felt a moment of panic that he would stride from the room, but then he turned to me and held out his hand. I grasped it in my own, feeling that wonderful jolt again.
He led me to his bedroom and laid me down on that narrow bed. Not a word was said as we undressed each other and engaged in acts unspeakable in polite society. Those framed criminals decorating his wall were our only witnesses and, although our acts might have shocked their namesakes, their silence was guaranteed. The only sounds were our cries of joy, and longing, and desire, all intermingled with buried fears and apprehensions. It was the most wonderful, and terrifying, carnal experience I ever had.
When we were spent, I drew him to me, holding tightly, unwilling to let go. I could feel his racing heartbeat and knew it matched my own.
We fell asleep, entwined with each other.
I awoke to find myself alone, daylight streaming through the curtains. I looked around to find that Holmes had provided me with my dressing gown and a change of clothes. I hurried to attend to my toilet.
As I prepared myself for the day, it was all I could do not to flee from our rooms. I knew I had to put a stop to this. Such behavior was madness, especially given our close relationships with men of the law. We would be found out, surely. No, I decided, this had to end.
Armed with my new found determination, I marched to the sitting room. I stopped in the doorway, my breath catching.
Holmes was sitting at the table, an uneaten breakfast before him, reading through the morning papers. It was a scene of utter domesticity and one that I had seen, literally, hundreds of times before. Yet this morning it was different, for last night I had lain with Sherlock Holmes, and I knew now, looking at him, that notwithstanding any other decisions on my part, that he held my heart and had for years.
The truth was actually liberating.
He raised he head and looked at me. I could see a tightness in his eyes and knew that he expected a proclamation ending our brief affair. Perhaps he even intended to make one himself.
I gave him no time to consider his options. I strode across the room, purposefully, until I stood mere inches from him. He looked up at me, his eyes wide.
I leaned down and kissed him, hard, and let him feel all my love, and passion, and admiration, and longing. He froze momentarily, and then returned the kiss, his desires just as fierce.
We broke apart and I sat across from him. He did not quite look at me; instead his gaze returned to the papers before him. He did, however, pick up a piece of toast and begin to nibble upon it.
“Any news?” I asked him. My voice seemed unnaturally loud, and I realized with a start that neither of us had spoken since the prior evening, before these life changing events had occured.
Holmes looked up, startled, and I gestured to the papers.
“Ah, no, Watson,” he remarked, quirking his lips in a half smile. “No news. Although Lestrade sent a telegram asking us to meet him at the train station this afternoon.”
“Us?” I enquired.
“Well, if you would be so kind.”
“I would be delighted, my dear Holmes.”
His eyes met mine and were filled with warmth and unexpected happiness. I assumed that I looked much the same way.
He returned his attention back to the papers, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. I began to attack the breakfast before me, smiling all the while.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-09-21 11:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-21 11:44 am (UTC)I'd love to know what prompted the blush in the first place!
no subject
Date: 2008-09-21 02:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-21 02:49 pm (UTC)The thought of Holmes blushing amuses me so much as well XD
no subject
Date: 2008-09-21 03:59 pm (UTC)Lovely!
~Rose
no subject
Date: 2008-09-21 06:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-21 06:28 pm (UTC)I'd love to know what prompted the blush in the first place!
That's a very good question and I don't have an answer! Probably just an inadvertant glance. Or Watson licking his lips or something.
Glad you liked it. Thanks.
no subject
Date: 2008-09-21 06:29 pm (UTC)Thank you! Glad you enjoyed it.
no subject
Date: 2008-09-21 06:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-21 06:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-21 06:45 pm (UTC)I'm glad you decided to post it, because it's wonderful. (I'm also glad to know that I'm not the only one who says "Hm... this isn't all that bad, I guess I'll post it!" Folie A Deux!)
Thanks for sharing this. It made my sucky morning better.
no subject
Date: 2008-09-21 07:19 pm (UTC)Thank you so much for sharing this with us.
no subject
Date: 2008-09-21 07:44 pm (UTC)This is really good, and there's tension all the way through without any soppy declarations of undying love but also without either character being overly aggressive or in denial.
You've hit a very good balance of emotions in this piece.
no subject
Date: 2008-09-21 07:52 pm (UTC)Yes, I loved how Holmes nibbled his toast after he knew Watson wasn't going to reject him.
Very lovely.
no subject
Date: 2008-09-21 08:18 pm (UTC)It's funny -- I really thought this sucked when I first wrote it, but when I read it last night, I quite liked it. I just made a few minor corrections and then offered it to the world... well, the SH slash world, anyway.
Sorry your morning is sucky (although I understand that... life has been pretty sucky as of late). We should get together for lunch/coffee/tea/dinner/Granada episode watching/whatever. Soon.
no subject
Date: 2008-09-21 08:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-21 08:22 pm (UTC)This fic was all about the silence and the emotions that can be conveyed within that quiet. I'm quite glad you enjoyed it.
no subject
Date: 2008-09-21 08:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-21 11:53 pm (UTC)~rhea
no subject
Date: 2008-09-22 12:44 am (UTC)This sentence is so well-turned it is breathtaking. And I don't say that lightly.
Good show!
no subject
Date: 2008-09-22 04:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-22 04:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-23 12:18 pm (UTC)But sucking on fingers can, of course, easily lead to my typical mind-in-gutter reaction, so it's all your fault.
It is intense, indeed. Just the right words at the right time. Luvverly. *hugs*
no subject
Date: 2008-09-24 04:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-24 07:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-25 03:10 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-25 04:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-25 04:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-10-01 05:56 pm (UTC)Ah! But I adore it. And the mood was further enhanced by the way you had their actions speaking for them, how all the reassurance came from touch and sharing the pleasures of their bodies, and that no words were needed until the morning after and then only to proove that though everything between them had changed, nothing had changed at all. If you know what I mean?
So much love for this one! X)
Peace,
Caspe
no subject
Date: 2008-10-02 04:34 am (UTC)no words were needed until the morning after and then only to proove that though everything between them had changed, nothing had changed at all
Yes. This. Exactly this. I'm so glad this came through. Because they were the same, even though there had been a monumental shift in their relationship -- their friendship was still as strong as ever.
I'm so, so thrilled you liked it. Thanks again.
no subject
Date: 2010-03-22 05:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-22 06:59 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-22 11:38 am (UTC);-)
undun
no subject
Date: 2010-06-20 12:15 am (UTC)secondly, i am all about the aggressive!watson going on here, because it is awesome. it also maybe speaks to my love of the less obviously 'dominant' character being strong and capable and made of win. and in character!
it's funny because this is relatively short, but i might be my favorite holmes/watson ever.
no subject
Date: 2010-06-22 04:47 am (UTC)I too love agressive!confident!Watson (like agressive!confident!Reid). Watson is no wimp and is an accomplished man in his own right. He just puts Holmes in the forefront in his stories because they're a tribute to Holmes. But that doesn't mean he's not strong. (I think you'd have to be strong to put up with Holmes and to be accepted by him. For fucks' sake, their friendship lasts 40 years in the stories -- Holmes is not going to remain friends with someone that long unless Holmes views him as a partner and an equal).
Wow. Thank you again. I'm so thrilled you like this.