Earlier, I posted my sketch about Holmes and Watson in REIG. This is an expansion of their fight following REIG, and their initial love scene. I am not sure how explicit I want to be in the novel, so I may edit this back to vagueness.
I also mention Francois le Villard here, assuming that he was one of the policemen who worked with Holmes during the Baron Maupertuis case.
Francois le Villard is a detective that Holmes mentions in SIGN, Chapter 1. Villard admires him and apparently is translating Holmes's monographs into French. I have moved much of that SIGN conversation to years earlier, because I believe Watson is lying again. He'd be quite the hypocrite to say that Holmes is abnormally tight-lipped about his family life in GREE, if he himself has kept his alcoholic brother a secret for the same number of years, so I suspect that the watch scene must have been years before.
Also, Holmes speaks of his monographs in SIGN as if he's never mentioned them before, but he clearly mentioned his monograph on tobacco ashes in STUD. Therefore Watson has used some creative license to reintroduce the monographs because he assumes that not enough people have read his prior novel STUD to know what he's talking about. (He does the same thing with the Baker Street Irregulars later on, which may account for them not aging at all in seven years, and for Holmes having to tell them once again to wait in the street and only send Wiggins up.) Therefore, for all these reasons, I will assume that Watson has also altered the monograph conversation, and that Holmes told him about Villard years before 1887.
Fandom: Sherlock Holmes
Story: sketch from Chapter 9 of Deeper in Memory
Pairing: Holmes/Watson
Warnings: slash, rated R
After the REIG case, they return home. Watson's still mad about the deception. "Malingering, indeed! You knew how concerned I was for your health, and you deceived me anyway. Made a fool of me in front of Colonel Hayter."
"I fooled everyone, Watson," Holmes protests. "Not you especially."
Watson winces and looks hurt at that.
H can't understand. W doesn't want to be singled out, and yet he does. H says, "I didn't know you'd be so upset, Watson. I thought you'd see that it's a minor thing compared to the capture of two murderers. Anyway, I did let you know that it was only a ruse when I knocked over the oranges."
"The oranges! How was I to connect that to your earlier fainting spell? To your mistake in the reward?" he demands. "Those Cunninghams tried to kill you. Imagine if we hadn't heard you screaming!"
"But you did! You saved me." trying to be tender, "You always save me."
"It'll be the last time!" Watson threatens to move out again, and goes to grab his packed bags.
H stops him, looking panicked. "No, don't go, Watson! I'm sorry."
W snorts. "You're always sorry after the fact. And I don't think you really are sorry." He shakes off Holmes's hand on his arm. "Come to think of it, I'll need more bags." He storms into H's bedroom, grabs his bags and spitefully shakes out the contents on the floor.
H doesn't complain, but locks the door behind him, glad that he might be able to speak more freely here, in private. "Watson, I do mean it. I am sorry. Truly. Perhaps I wasn't thinking clearly enough due to my recent illness."
Watson stands glaring at him in outrage. "You're using your illness to excuse your deception?! What kind of a twisted bastard--"
"I'm sorry!" he repeats, then steps closer. "Please don't go, Watson. Not again. I tried to do without you for two months in France, and I only exhausted myself. Why do you think I had to work fifteen hour days in the first place? I had no one to truly rely on. No matter how much he admires my methods, Francois le Villard is not you."
"Why, because he's a toady who doesn't give a damn about your cocaine use?"
"No, Watson, he did not know about that. I convinced him and the other local detectives that I was having one of my peculiar energetic fits. That's why they merely telegrammed you of my nervous collapse from exhaustion."
bitterly, "Because you thought I would not come if I'd known you were taking cocaine again."
"I hoped you would anyway. I needed to see you again. I thought of telegramming you myself even before the case was over, but I did not know if you would forgive me and come back."
"I should not have come back."
"Don't say that! Watson, please stay. I will do whatever you wish now. I need you. I missed you so much that I could not bear to remain in Baker Street alone. And then in France, I still thought of you every day. Even when I injected my cocaine, I reproached myself with the memory of your words. It half comforted me, to think of how much you must care for me, to be so upset."
Watson is stunned and horrified. "Oh, you're blaming me now, for your addiction?"
"No!" he keeps putting his foot in his mouth somehow. "I'm not blaming you at all. I'm telling you that I have become as dependent on you, as I was on cocaine. I--" H flounders for words. Not sure if he should mention the fact that Villard had made a pass at him, and how he'd rejected it, longing for Watson.
meanwhile, Watson still threatens to go, and tries to get around Holmes to the door. Throws an empty bag at him and starts unlocking the door.
Rushing to him, Holmes turns him around and suddenly kisses him. Then steps back, looking desperate and afraid of Watson's reaction.
Watson stares at him, stunned for a moment, then kisses H back. Fiercely. Grabbing him, opening his mouth, pushing him against a wall.
H sighs in relief. He was right, after all. Watson burned with unfulfilled lust. Surely he would stay now that he knew it?
They share more kisses, mingled with moans and sighs. Watson runs fingers through his dark hair, and in return H slides a hand underneath W's coat, trying to touch the wound in his shoulder again.
Watson blinks and shrugs off the coat. Breathes heavily and undoes Holmes's collar, then kisses his bare neck.
H shivers, and glances to make sure that the door is still locked. He continues undressing Watson, unbuttoning his waistcoat and shirt. Aching to touch his wound, to feel the bare skin instead of the shirt that Watson wore when they had shared the bed in the hotel...
Watson is aroused as well, reacting when he feels H's fingers touch his scar. Moving from the wall, he leads them toward the bed. Stepping over the mess on the floor and adding to it by discarding clothes on the way. Kicking off their shoes and sitting now on the bed. They kiss again.
H is nervous but fascinated. In Lyons, he had watched Watson dress and undress, assuming at the time that Watson did so for his benefit. That he was teasing Holmes for when he was recovered enough for sexual relations. Now he would see him naked again, and the thought of touching him too was overwhelming. "Watson. John."
"Holmes." Watson was intrigued as well, to undress H as a lover now, not merely as a doctor. The faded injection marks on Holmes's arm still bothered him, but he did not comment now, only kissing the rest of him.
Holmes asks, "You do not like my first name?"
Watson blinks. "I am not used to it." Calling him Sherlock would take a conscious effort.
H caresses him, perhaps offers a middle name instead? Or says, "Call me whatever you like. Just do not leave me again, John."
Watson is touched, and kisses him, lingering over H's elegant fingers.
Now naked, they lay down and start to tangle their limbs in the narrow bed. Watson lies on top of him, as there's not much room. If only they had remained in Lyons longer, and had an ample bed! As expected, Watson is quickly leading H out of his depths.
H blinks and recalls how he had asked Villard about acts of sodomy, while trying carefully not to imply that he had changed his mind about Villard's offer. He was not quite sure what knowledge or practical experience Watson had either. "I-I have vaseline," he said uncertainly.
Watson blinked. "Vaseline?"
"If you need some..." Not exactly sure what kind of fornication W would wish to attempt.
Watson thinks a moment, then realises. "Oh." stunned that H would make such an offer. Very aroused and asks eagerly, "Where?"
"In the drawer there." H pointed to the vanity table where he kept his make up and put on his disguises. He realised that now he would need to keep two separate supplies on hand, one for his disguises, and one for bed.
Watson rushed from bed and quickly came back with the vaseline. He clearly had heard enough of sodomy himself to know what to do, and H was glad that there need not be awkwardness. Still, as Watson prepared him for lovemaking, he caught his breath several times.
For many minutes, Watson gently opened him and caressed his back at the same time. Loved kissing along his neck and spine. Enjoys how his mustache tickles H and makes him arch. fingers inside, he discovers H's reactions when touching his prostate. Pleased, W explores, and watches H writhing and panting in desire.
Excited, Watson slicks himself and finally makes the plunge. H clutches the sheets and stifles his moan into the pillow. Watson gasps and enjoys the heat, then starts to thrust.
As H reacts passionately, Watson's lust increases. He ferociously makes love to H, making him yelp a little and realize that he is not fully recovered after all. But it feels good despite the pain. Can barely stifle himself.
Losing control, Watson cries out in ecstasy before collapsing. Eventually slid off him and lay on his side to recover.
Blinking, H lies there breathless and in awe of sexual passion, that it could so corrupt a moral, upstanding man like John Watson. Starts to turn to face him, but winces.
Watson notices and feels guilty. "I've hurt you."
H dismisses it as normal discomfort, surely. He had never been ravished before. Will probably grow used to it.
Watson however feels troubled and shocked, that he has so violated the ethics of patient/doctor relations.
H tells him that he submitted to him in every sense, in that hotel room in Lyons.
Watson blinks, finally understanding the extent of Holmes's apology. Embraces him, then notices that H remains aroused. So Watson made use of the vaseline again, stroking H to his own climax.
H sighs, blind with the bliss.
Realising the time, still in the afternoon. Worried that Mrs. Hudson or the servants must have overheard something. Watson volunteers to go check. Gets up and dresses. But assures H, "If she throws us out, we'll go back to my hotel for a while, then--then go to France."
H nods, but does not mention that he has a brother in London with rooms they could use. He does not want to see Mycroft just now and hear deductions about his unwise love affair. "Villard would give us a place to stay for a while. Then, then I would establish myself in France instead, and I will teach you as much French as I can. You do not mind about leaving your patients?" trying his best to be accommodating, even though Watson had only been working part-time as a fill in for another doctor's practice.
Watson shakes his head. "I could not stay here, if a scandal were to break out." makes some passing joke about the STUD novel or his literary agent? "I shall try to win us enough mercy to pack before we go." Kisses him, then goes to the door.
Watson peers out then cautiously sneaks into the sitting-room. Wondering if people were lurking somewhere, shocked about what they heard from H's bedroom.
Mrs. Hudson arrives to ask about tea.
Startles W, who says, "I'm so sorry. I--we'll pack."
"What? Oh no, you will not leave?" worried. "You've only just made amends, doctor. What have you been fighting about again?"
He's surprised by her reaction, but wary. "What did you hear?"
She looks embarrassed and evasive. "I had not meant to overhear. None of us did. It was merely your shouting at each other that alerted us. Some, some trick he played in Surrey. He, um, took on a case against your wishes?"
"I--yes, there was a murder." W enquires if that's all they overheard.
"More than we wished to hear." She mentions that the fighting has upset her, so she sent the servants out on errands. (groceries, walking the dog Murray...) "When I heard no more shouting, I hoped that you had made up again." she anxiously asks whether H or W or both are moving out.
W reassures her, "None. We, um, we did make up." He says that by "packing" he meant that they should take another holiday away from Baker Street, to complete H's recovery.
"You did?"
"Yes." He also dismisses her offer of tea.
After she leaves, he goes to tell H to their mutual surprise that they were undiscovered.
Holmes later goes to see Mrs. Hudson himself and asks if they could remodel their rooms so that W's bedroom connected with H's. The easier for the doctor to see his resident patient at all times of day or night. He feels a twinge of guilt of using this cover, since Watson did not like him feigning illness apparently.
Mrs. Hudson agrees to have the remodelling done while they are away.
In the meantime they pack anew and go to Lyons to have a honeymoon period in France. A week? A month? H perhaps confesses about Villard, inspiring another wave of ravishing from Watson. He's so strangely jealous and possessive. H rather enjoys it, because he has felt jealous and possessive for so long, even back before he was aware of a sexual desire for Watson.
W tries to be happy, but is repeatedly disturbed by the fact that H always says "do whatever you like" in bed and euphemistically jokes about "playing doctor" together. W worries in a paranoid way that H has had sex with him only to convince him to stay with him.
H denies it of course, and talks more of his love. "Watson, I was willing to move to France for you, on a moment's notice. To start all over!"
"I know."
"Do you still want to stay?" H asks. "Here, our intimacy is not illegal."
W is tempted by that, but he shakes his head. "I would have to start all over too. How can I practice in France without speaking French fluently?" He knows enough French to understand H's literary quotations, and to read Villard's letter, but is less sure of himself in speaking medical terms in French.
"You could write your stories full time," H offers. "Villard could translate them for you."
W stares at H wide-eyed. He cannot be in his right mind, to actually encourage Watson to write! Or else he must be lying, saying anything to placate Watson. Yes. H has no compunction about deceiving him after all.
H seems to read W's scepticism, and he explains simply, "I love you. I want to make you happy."
W frowns. This is so unlike H. Cannot be genuine. Must be an act.
H kisses him, trying to convince W of his sincerity, and W is weak for his touch. So they indulge and continue as lovers for a while, even coming back to Baker Street and making use of the new direct passage between their rooms. But soon Watson cannot take his doubts any more, and calls it off. It's madness. Holmes pleads with him, but W will not believe him.
However, he agrees to stay in Baker Street anyway because he still wants to be Holmes's doctor.
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