Of Long Legs and Callused Hands (Part two of two)

[burnt_hamster]

John’s hands were bunched into the fabric of his shirt.  Sherlock could feel the fingers digging into his sides.  Focused on that instead of the sharp wet pain ripping its way up his body.  He knew how to shut his body up.  Could will it to feel nothing.  Nothing but John’s hands at his sides, convulsively opening and closing.  He was lightheaded

Comments

[how_to_shine]

this is amazing - tremendously sad and moving, and beautifully written.

[burnt_hamster]

You are wonderful! Thanks for reading!

[burnt_hamster]

Well I hope it was a good cleansing cry. Thanks for reading!

[f_flowers]

I hardly ever cry at fics, but I'm definitely crying now ;_;
Beautifully done.

[burnt_hamster]

Crying is good for you yes?
Thank you so much!

[jellybubble]

Tears! Tears from me! I hope...they better meet in the afterlife. Or reincarnation! Dammit!

[doves_wing]

... those driving videos scared the shit out of me, and clearly they made an impact on someone else. -_-;; Argh. This was... unbelievably sad. What really struck me was that you wrote Sherlock scared, and that rang extremely true. Lovely.