FIC: Dangerous Passions
I promised NotYou and several other people this story...
Thanks to spacefall, k_haldane and random-c for the awkward situation suggestions (I think I used them all, ;-)). Special, special thanks to secret_memoir who helped me work out the logistics of the awkward situations and helped me figure out how to get them in and out of them.
Title: Dangerous Passions
Rating: 15
Synopsis: Things can get dangerous in the bedroom. (Warning, contains sex)
Dangerous Passions
I have been friends with Sherlock Holmes for a good ten years now. During his three year absence I had grown painfully aware that he meant more to me than I had ever allowed myself to realise during our days together. I had always enjoyed the company of my own gender, but not quite in the manner that I enjoyed the company of women, so whilst feeling decidedly awkward there was nothing new in this personal realisation. Upon his return from the dead, our relationship had progressed somewhat. We had admitted feeling for each other in what the Church would describe as an 'unnatural way' and we slowly began to embark upon a more physical level of intimacy. I, being completely inexperienced in the matter of deviant behaviour had had to rely on Holmes on his experience, which he freely admitted was a little limited. There were times when things did not quite go to plan, and this tale is just one of those little incidents.
It was a few months into our new found intimacy and I was still becoming accustomed to the act of lying next to Holmes, and the act physical intimacy with another man. Holmes had gone to the lavatory and so I was left alone, undressing in his bedroom. He is a difficult man to sleep next to and there was a good chance that tonight we were likely to indulge in our primitive passions. I felt like a bride on her wedding night. I quickly pulled on my nightshirt, extinguished the lamp and slipped between the cool covers of the bed. I lay back in the ensuing darkness and stared up at the ceiling. A few moments later I heard the door open and the room was momentarily filled with a thin beam of light, framing Sherlock Holmes in the doorway. I felt my heart skip, as he quietly closed the door behind him and stripped off his clothes. I felt him slid into the bed beside him, his naked skin brushing momentarily against the arm of my nightshirt sending a shock wave to my genitals. There was nothing unusual in Holmes's manner of (or lack of) night time attire, he often slept naked and this had caused a few embarrassing moments over the years. He settled back on the pillow and I presume he dozed off because I heard no sound from him, only the soft in and out of his breathing.
I tried to sleep, but the proximity of a very naked Holmes and the nervous anticipation of what tonight could bring held me back. I stared intently at the ceiling, trying to shut out the wonderful images that sprung to mind when I thought about Holmes. I shifted slightly and accidentally brushed against his penis, somewhat embarrassed I shifted again only to elbow him in the stomach.
“Ow.” He murmured sleepily.
“Sorry.” I replied, shifting again and to my further embarrassment kicked him slightly just below his knee.
“Ow.” He murmured, this time a little louder than before.
“Sorry.” I mumbled quietly. I sat up, plumped the pillow and flopped back down onto the mattress. I settled on my side, one arm hooked under the pillow.
I felt Holmes shift beside. “Waston?”
“Um?”
“I...I don't suppose...”
I looked over my shoulder at him, he was sitting up, resting on one elbow. An exquisite image. Even if I wasn't sure what I he was asking, there was a certain physical indication that was difficult to ignore. “Oh...erm...if you want...”
“Only if you want to.”<
I sat up and turned to him. “No, no. I want to. Do you want me to...?” I indicated towards the dresser with my hand.
“No, I'll get it.” He moved to climb over me. As he did so his knee caught me in somewhat painful place and I grunted slightly. “Sorry.” He reached over and opened the top drawer in his dresser, taking out a large tub of Vaseline.
He moved to get into position at almost the exact time I adjusted my position on the bed, and thus kicked him in the shoulder. “Ow.”
“Sorry.”
He smiled at me in a gentle way and I slid further down onto the bed. I felt his hand slid under my nightshirt and along the inside of my thigh. His hands were cold and his touch feathery. My body responded eagerly and I giggled as his hand touched a particularly sensitive place.
“Shhh!”
I coughed to hide my giggles. “Your hands are cold.”
Holmes sighed and slowly pushed my nightshirt up over my hips, exposing me to the cold night air. With a gentle hand he encouraged me to part my legs, which I did so and also raised my left leg slightly. As I did so, my foot caught him in an awkward place. With a slight grunt he lost his grip on the tub of Vaseline and it tumbled off the bed and onto the floor. He hissed in an annoyed manner and leaned down to retrieve it, which was at the same time I sat up to apologise.
“I'm sorry, I... I didn't...” My act of sitting up caused Holmes to lose his balance and he fell forwards off the bed with a thud. He lay on the floor, winded as I leaned over to check he was all right. “Holmes?” I whispered. “Are... are you all right?”
I heard a grunt from my companion and I held out my hand to help him up. As he took it, there was a sharp knock at the bedroom door and we froze, looking at each other.
“Mr Holmes?” It was our landlady. Of course, she probably heard the thud of Holmes's body hitting the floor. Hurriedly I pushed my nightshirt back down and grabbed the covers of the bed and pulled them over myself. Mrs Hudson knocked again, “Mr Holmes? Is everything all right, I heard a crash.” She tried the door, which thankfully Holmes had locked before getting into bed.
Holmes seized the pile of his discarded clothes in an attempt to hide his rather obvious arousal. He quickly opened the door slightly, and used himself to cover the gap should Mrs Hudson manage to look past him and into the room behind. He kept a firm grip on the bundle hiding his erection.
“Everything is quite all right, Mrs Hudson. I er...” He lowered his voice, “fell out of bed.” He smiled at her and was clearly trying to keep her eye-line above his waist. Mrs Hudson shifted slightly in an attempt to see around Holmes, but he too shifted to prevent her seeing.
“Well...” he looked at him suspiciously. “Good night, Mr Holmes.”
“Good night.” Holmes closed the door with a rapid snap, turned the key in the lock and crossed back to the bed. The sudden change from light to dark took him a few moments to adjust to, not before he'd walked into the foot stead. “Oh for Pity's Sake!” I tried not to laugh as he limped slightly around the bed.
He pushed the covers back off me and again lifted my nightshirt, although this time with considerable less finesse. He bent down and took my engorged member in his mouth, rolling his tongue in a maddening way over the tip. He ran his tongue around the head of my member and I had to bite my lip to prevent a loud gasp escaping from my lips. He moved slightly to the side and placed a hand upon my stomach. I felt my stomach gurgle and tried to ignore the bubbly feeling. Holmes continued his slow exploration and I rolled my head back, staring at the ceiling in bliss.
I don't know whether it was the slight pressure of his hand against my stomach or my nervousness but the bubbles in my stomach gurgled for a second time and to my immense embarrassment, I farted rather loudly.
Holmes sat up suddenly with a slightly horrified look on his face, and I blushed crimson in embarrassment. “Oh...” I coughed, “er... pardon.” I smiled weakly at him.
He gave an exasperated sigh and rolled to his left, pulling up the covers. I lay back against my pillow feeling not only embarrassed but ashamed. My mother had always taught me that things were often better out than in, but I think in this situation things would have been better in than out. I stared up at the ceiling and realised that despite the times I'd spent staring at Holmes's bedroom ceiling I had never really noticed the patten of the tiles.
Feeling that I should at least apologise for my accidental burst of gas, I sat up and leaned over Holmes to kiss him. Holmes had obviously had the same idea and as I leaned over to kiss him, he sat up to kiss me and I found, to my utter horror, my head colliding with his nose. He gave a sharp gasp and fell back onto the bed, raising a hand to his nose. I looked down at him in a very apologetic manner as to my horror blood started to gush from his nose.
Soon after that I headed up to my own bed, leaving Holmes sitting on the edge of his with his head between his legs and a handkerchief clamped to his nose. I had never realised that sexual intercourse could be so damned dangerous.
Ta-dah!
Thanks to spacefall, k_haldane and random-c for the awkward situation suggestions (I think I used them all, ;-)). Special, special thanks to secret_memoir who helped me work out the logistics of the awkward situations and helped me figure out how to get them in and out of them.
Title: Dangerous Passions
Rating: 15
Synopsis: Things can get dangerous in the bedroom. (Warning, contains sex)
Dangerous Passions
I have been friends with Sherlock Holmes for a good ten years now. During his three year absence I had grown painfully aware that he meant more to me than I had ever allowed myself to realise during our days together. I had always enjoyed the company of my own gender, but not quite in the manner that I enjoyed the company of women, so whilst feeling decidedly awkward there was nothing new in this personal realisation. Upon his return from the dead, our relationship had progressed somewhat. We had admitted feeling for each other in what the Church would describe as an 'unnatural way' and we slowly began to embark upon a more physical level of intimacy. I, being completely inexperienced in the matter of deviant behaviour had had to rely on Holmes on his experience, which he freely admitted was a little limited. There were times when things did not quite go to plan, and this tale is just one of those little incidents.
It was a few months into our new found intimacy and I was still becoming accustomed to the act of lying next to Holmes, and the act physical intimacy with another man. Holmes had gone to the lavatory and so I was left alone, undressing in his bedroom. He is a difficult man to sleep next to and there was a good chance that tonight we were likely to indulge in our primitive passions. I felt like a bride on her wedding night. I quickly pulled on my nightshirt, extinguished the lamp and slipped between the cool covers of the bed. I lay back in the ensuing darkness and stared up at the ceiling. A few moments later I heard the door open and the room was momentarily filled with a thin beam of light, framing Sherlock Holmes in the doorway. I felt my heart skip, as he quietly closed the door behind him and stripped off his clothes. I felt him slid into the bed beside him, his naked skin brushing momentarily against the arm of my nightshirt sending a shock wave to my genitals. There was nothing unusual in Holmes's manner of (or lack of) night time attire, he often slept naked and this had caused a few embarrassing moments over the years. He settled back on the pillow and I presume he dozed off because I heard no sound from him, only the soft in and out of his breathing.
I tried to sleep, but the proximity of a very naked Holmes and the nervous anticipation of what tonight could bring held me back. I stared intently at the ceiling, trying to shut out the wonderful images that sprung to mind when I thought about Holmes. I shifted slightly and accidentally brushed against his penis, somewhat embarrassed I shifted again only to elbow him in the stomach.
“Ow.” He murmured sleepily.
“Sorry.” I replied, shifting again and to my further embarrassment kicked him slightly just below his knee.
“Ow.” He murmured, this time a little louder than before.
“Sorry.” I mumbled quietly. I sat up, plumped the pillow and flopped back down onto the mattress. I settled on my side, one arm hooked under the pillow.
I felt Holmes shift beside. “Waston?”
“Um?”
“I...I don't suppose...”
I looked over my shoulder at him, he was sitting up, resting on one elbow. An exquisite image. Even if I wasn't sure what I he was asking, there was a certain physical indication that was difficult to ignore. “Oh...erm...if you want...”
“Only if you want to.”<
I sat up and turned to him. “No, no. I want to. Do you want me to...?” I indicated towards the dresser with my hand.
“No, I'll get it.” He moved to climb over me. As he did so his knee caught me in somewhat painful place and I grunted slightly. “Sorry.” He reached over and opened the top drawer in his dresser, taking out a large tub of Vaseline.
He moved to get into position at almost the exact time I adjusted my position on the bed, and thus kicked him in the shoulder. “Ow.”
“Sorry.”
He smiled at me in a gentle way and I slid further down onto the bed. I felt his hand slid under my nightshirt and along the inside of my thigh. His hands were cold and his touch feathery. My body responded eagerly and I giggled as his hand touched a particularly sensitive place.
“Shhh!”
I coughed to hide my giggles. “Your hands are cold.”
Holmes sighed and slowly pushed my nightshirt up over my hips, exposing me to the cold night air. With a gentle hand he encouraged me to part my legs, which I did so and also raised my left leg slightly. As I did so, my foot caught him in an awkward place. With a slight grunt he lost his grip on the tub of Vaseline and it tumbled off the bed and onto the floor. He hissed in an annoyed manner and leaned down to retrieve it, which was at the same time I sat up to apologise.
“I'm sorry, I... I didn't...” My act of sitting up caused Holmes to lose his balance and he fell forwards off the bed with a thud. He lay on the floor, winded as I leaned over to check he was all right. “Holmes?” I whispered. “Are... are you all right?”
I heard a grunt from my companion and I held out my hand to help him up. As he took it, there was a sharp knock at the bedroom door and we froze, looking at each other.
“Mr Holmes?” It was our landlady. Of course, she probably heard the thud of Holmes's body hitting the floor. Hurriedly I pushed my nightshirt back down and grabbed the covers of the bed and pulled them over myself. Mrs Hudson knocked again, “Mr Holmes? Is everything all right, I heard a crash.” She tried the door, which thankfully Holmes had locked before getting into bed.
Holmes seized the pile of his discarded clothes in an attempt to hide his rather obvious arousal. He quickly opened the door slightly, and used himself to cover the gap should Mrs Hudson manage to look past him and into the room behind. He kept a firm grip on the bundle hiding his erection.
“Everything is quite all right, Mrs Hudson. I er...” He lowered his voice, “fell out of bed.” He smiled at her and was clearly trying to keep her eye-line above his waist. Mrs Hudson shifted slightly in an attempt to see around Holmes, but he too shifted to prevent her seeing.
“Well...” he looked at him suspiciously. “Good night, Mr Holmes.”
“Good night.” Holmes closed the door with a rapid snap, turned the key in the lock and crossed back to the bed. The sudden change from light to dark took him a few moments to adjust to, not before he'd walked into the foot stead. “Oh for Pity's Sake!” I tried not to laugh as he limped slightly around the bed.
He pushed the covers back off me and again lifted my nightshirt, although this time with considerable less finesse. He bent down and took my engorged member in his mouth, rolling his tongue in a maddening way over the tip. He ran his tongue around the head of my member and I had to bite my lip to prevent a loud gasp escaping from my lips. He moved slightly to the side and placed a hand upon my stomach. I felt my stomach gurgle and tried to ignore the bubbly feeling. Holmes continued his slow exploration and I rolled my head back, staring at the ceiling in bliss.
I don't know whether it was the slight pressure of his hand against my stomach or my nervousness but the bubbles in my stomach gurgled for a second time and to my immense embarrassment, I farted rather loudly.
Holmes sat up suddenly with a slightly horrified look on his face, and I blushed crimson in embarrassment. “Oh...” I coughed, “er... pardon.” I smiled weakly at him.
He gave an exasperated sigh and rolled to his left, pulling up the covers. I lay back against my pillow feeling not only embarrassed but ashamed. My mother had always taught me that things were often better out than in, but I think in this situation things would have been better in than out. I stared up at the ceiling and realised that despite the times I'd spent staring at Holmes's bedroom ceiling I had never really noticed the patten of the tiles.
Feeling that I should at least apologise for my accidental burst of gas, I sat up and leaned over Holmes to kiss him. Holmes had obviously had the same idea and as I leaned over to kiss him, he sat up to kiss me and I found, to my utter horror, my head colliding with his nose. He gave a sharp gasp and fell back onto the bed, raising a hand to his nose. I looked down at him in a very apologetic manner as to my horror blood started to gush from his nose.
Soon after that I headed up to my own bed, leaving Holmes sitting on the edge of his with his head between his legs and a handkerchief clamped to his nose. I had never realised that sexual intercourse could be so damned dangerous.
Ta-dah!