Archive of Our Own

"Holmes," I called through my open bedroom door, "Could you give me a hand with this?"

Holmes' head appeared around the door, a frown creasing his forehead, then his eyes widened.

"Well?" I said, somewhat peevishly. I had not worn my dress uniform for some years, and it was tight around the middle and under the arms, as well as being far more ostentatious than I was entirely comfortable with. My medals weighed heavily on my chest, and I felt rather silly.

"Is that -" Holmes began, then cleared his throat. "Are you wearing that tonight?"

"Yes, of course."

I waved the cufflinks at him, and he blinked again and strode towards me, taking them from me without a word. His silence did not improve my anxiety.

"Well?" I snapped.

"Well?" he echoed absently, fastening my cuffs. His eyes were flickering over me, his face blank.

"Well, do I look ridiculous?"

"What? Oh, by no means."

His voice was distracted and, to my ears, rather unconvincing. He fumbled one of the cufflinks suddenly, and it fell to the floor. He took his time about retrieving it.

"Really Holmes, if this uniform makes me look foolish -"

"No!" he said sharply, focusing on me at last. "No, no, my dear fellow. Quite the opposite, I assure you."

"Well," I said, somewhat mollified, "You must wear your best suit, so that the fellows do not examine me too hard."

"Ah, yes," Holmes said, clearing his throat, and focusing resolutely on my cuffs again. "I fear that I will not be able to accompany you this evening, Watson."

I started in alarm. "What?"

"I find myself otherwise engaged on, ah, some details pertaining to the case."

"What case?"

"The case, Watson, the - case on which we are currently engaged!"

"The Hamilton case?" I stared at him. He had a most queer expression on his face, and his eyes were fixed on some area of the wall above my left shoulder.

"I have fixed your cuff," he said, his voice sounding rather strained. "Now, if you will excuse me."

"I will most certainly not excuse you!" I spluttered, following him as he strode from my rooms towards his own. "What possible details could there be to settle in the Hamilton case which would prevent you from keeping an engagement which, may I remind you, was settled months ago? Holmes, you swore you would accompany me!"

"I am most dreadfully sorry, Watson," Holmes said, pulling sheets of foolscap from a box haphazardly in a transparent attempt to appear busy. "But I find that certain unavoidable matters require my attention."

"What matters?"

"The finding of the earrings, of course, now leave me in peace!" snapped Holmes.

"Holmes," I said, striding towards him. He jerked up his head at the sound of my foot upon a crumpled sheet of paper, and I noticed, with some surprise, that his face was undeniably flushed. I was even more disconcerted when, quick as a whippet, he dodged around the boxes on the floor to get away from me, then was brought up short when he caught his hip sharply on the desk. I took advantage of his unprecedented confusion to pin him into the corner, as curiosity replaced my anger.

"You found the earrings," I said, my breath a little short. "Yesterday."

"Did I," he said weakly. His eyes were running over me again, from the hems of my trousers up to my collar again and down. He could easily have overpowered me and escaped my grasp, but he did not, and my suspicions had begun to form as to why. He was worrying at a loose thread of his waistcoat; I caught his wrist and pressed his hand back against the flowered wallpaper. His breath caught. I did the same with the other, and his head fell back against the wall with a slight thump. By now, his problem was quite obvious.

"Holmes," I said slowly, with growing amusement. "I did not realise you were that way inclined."

"Given that we have been sharing a bed for the past six months, you are remarkably slow on the uptake," he snapped, with half his usual fire.

"You know that's not what I meant."

"Damn it, Watson, stop laughing!"

His face was now quite red, and he seemed almost distressed, although he still made no move to break free of me. I had never seen Holmes like this, and I could not quite believe that he truly was suffering what I suspected. Testing my theory, I pressed him until our bodies were nearly flush, and his back was flat against the wall. He sucked in a breath, and closed his eyes. I could feel the confirmation of my theory against my thigh.

"As you can - see, my attending a regimental dinner with you dressed like that would be most unwise. If you are quite finished amusing yourself at my expense -" he bit out.

"Do I look amused?" I said quietly, and he opened his eyes again. He was utterly discomposed, and I was enthralled by it. I had no idea I could have such power over him.

"Watson," he said, his voice cracking, "If you do not leave me in peace this instant, I shall not be answerable for the consequences."

"I will gladly take full responsibility," I breathed.

He shivered against me, and I thrilled at it. Then, jerkily, he bent to press his lips against mine. I had half-expected to be devoured - his usual style of lovemaking was rather overpowering, not that disliked it - but instead his kiss was so hesitant as to be almost chaste. For a moment I wondered if I had misread him somehow, then he flexed his hands against my grip but did not break it, and I began to understand. His mouth opened eagerly against mine when I instigated a deeper kiss, and when I demanded more, he surrendered it to me utterly. My mind racing, I relinquished his mouth and stepped back. He was breathing hard, and this time, he did not - or could not - disguise the way he looked at me. He slowly took one hand from the wall and wiped his mouth with the back of it, then pressed his palm back to its assigned position.

"Stay precisely where you are," I said, and I went to the door and locked it. I returned to him just in time, for he looked as if he was considering leaping from the window to make his escape. I took hold of his wrists again and kissed him until he was pliant against me. I had by now decided on my course of action, so I took his wrists and guided him to turn around to face the wall. He did not at first understand what I wanted, and he tripped over his feet a little, nearly catching me with his elbow; he made an incoherent sound of apology, his face now flaming brighter than I had ever seen it. I took hold of his hair and pushed his head forward, not a little roughly, and stood on tiptoe to kiss the back of his neck. I used my teeth on him a little, and he sighed.

He said something I could not quite hear. "What?"

"What shall I - how shall I address you?"

I hesitated, uncomprehending, but when I realized what he meant, all the breath was driven from me. At that time, I did not know Holmes as well as I do now; I had believed he could no longer surprise me. "Corporal," I said.

I reached around to unbutton his waistcoat, then his shirt, and slipped it from his shoulders. He said nothing, but brought his arms back one at a time to allow me to slide the sleeves off them. When his chest was bare, I ran my palms over his sides and kissed his back. He hissed, and I realized that the cold discs of metal at my breast had brushed his bare skin.

"Easy," I murmured, and unfastened the front of his trousers. I stripped him naked, then pressed my hips against his, allowed him to feel my desire through the rough cloth of my parade uniform. He let out a choked breath. I could scarcely keep my hands off him.

"Get on the bed," I said. "Place your hands above your head, and keep them there."

He hastened to do my bidding, his movements uncharacteristically awkward. He was biting his lip, as he did when he was concerned or concentrating on a chemical experiment, but his body was flushed and marvellously aroused. When he was lying on his bed facing me, I took a moment to admire him. I had never before seen him naked in full daylight.

I straddled the bed and crawled atop him, then rested on my elbows and knees above him and kissed him as he sighed beneath me. Although we had come together many times before, this was more tentative, more searching, than on any previous occasion. Holmes obediently kept his arms above his head, but it felt strange, doing what I would to him without his guidance, and I faltered. Did he want me to command him, after all? Did he want to pretend I was an anonymous soldier companion, in some sordid, exciting back-room encounter? I felt inadequate to the task.

"Do you want to - you may bring your hands down, if you like."

I thought he might want to touch the uniform with which he seemed so fascinated, and Holmes' gaze flickered over me again. He hesitated. Then he said, "I - it is not necessary. You are - no. Please go on as you are."

"My dear boy," I murmured, "If I'd realized that this was all it took to give me license to do as I pleased with you, I would have had my uniform pressed and cleaned earlier."

"You already had license to do as you pleased with me," Holmes said, his voice husky. "I did not realize you had any pressing desire to do so."

"Nor I that you wished me to," I said. I kissed the hollow of his throat, and gently turned his head to the side to allow myself more access. "We shall have to amend that in future. Ah, no - keep your hands where they are, Holmes. I am quite committed to the idea, now."

I stroked his chest, his thighs, and kissed his face and chest, and he allowed me; I lost myself in his scent, the way he stirred and sighed under my touch. "Sit up," I whispered at last, and I arranged us so that I could kiss my way down him, past his navel. His abdomen tightened when he realized what I was going to do; he drew in a sharp breath, and I heard his head fall back against the headboard as he let his thighs fall apart for me. I took him in my mouth, and he whispered, "Oh, God."

I had done this for him before, but he had never allowed me to bring him to completion this way, and now I half-expected him to pull away and roll me over at every second, but he stared down at me from what must have been an awkward position, sighed, writhed beneath me, and once said, "John -"

I moaned around him, gratified beyond measure that it was, indeed, me he wanted, not any soldier. I redoubled my efforts, and enjoyed the feel of him between my lips, the complete surrender he was offering me. He kept himself quite still, requiring me to be more vigorous, and I relished the involuntary movements and noises I drew from him as he drew close to completion.

"I - " he gasped, at last, "I -" and he brought one of his hands down to seize my own, tangled his fingers in mine and gripped them hard as he bucked hard under me, flooding my mouth.

He lay back on the bed, breathing hard, as I wiped my mouth on his bedsheet. I was aroused, but by no means uncomfortable. In fact, I felt rather pleased with myself.

"If you'll give me a moment, my dear fellow, I will attend to you," Holmes said faintly.

"I," I said, and climbed off the bed, "have a regimental dinner to attend, and this uniform is in a precarious state as it is."

He made a noise of protest, but did not quite seem able to lift himself off the bed. I kissed him on the mouth luxuriously, and he groaned and tangled his fingers in my hair; after a moment, I realized he was tasting himself on my tongue, and I closed my eyes and pulled away from him before I could completely lose my composure.

"I'll expect you to compensate me for abandoning me to the lions," I murmured. "In the mean time, I suggest you have a nap."

He yawned, then glared at me. I laughed.

"I am by no means finished with that uniform," he drawled. I decided that I would stop at my club for a whisky before the dinner. I would need it.

"You have my word that I will still be wearing it on my return," I said.

He raised an eyebrow. "I should hope so. And what, pray, will we do then?"

"You," I said, hardly believing my own daring, but greatly enjoying the flush pinking Holmes' cheeks, "Will help me remove it. Slowly. Then I will kiss you a great deal, and perhaps I will allow you to take me against the dresser."

"This is a new side of you, Corporal Watson," Holmes murmured, eyebrows raised. "It sounds like a short sleep might well be advisable, after all."

"Do you -" I hesitated, feeling foolish. "Do you like it?"

His lips twitched, and I smiled in return.

"I like you," he said to the ceiling, with an elaborate yawn, "rather a great deal. But then, you knew that."

"I had deduced it," I said.

End

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