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My Dearest Holmes	By : Leloi Category: Titles in the Public Domain > Sherlock Holmes > Slash > Slash Views: 2611 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: This is a work fiction, based on the Sherlock Holmes series by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

Chapter List
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It was with a heavy heart and weary soul that I made my way back to the club I had once attended with much enthusiasm as a younger man. But that was before the war broke something within me. I could feel where the piece once had been and now it was empty and rattled.
“John Watson? How are you? I heard you were in India.” My old acquaintance, Samford smiled at me. Frankly I was surprised that he even remembered me, much less recognized the creature I had become.
“Afghanistan.” I replied quietly, thinking of the last time I had seen the man before my deployment.
“Indeed…” Graciously he made no mention to my broken state. “You’re back in London?”
“For now… I’m living in a hotel but I’m looking for a more permanent residence with lower rent.”
Samford gave me a look. “Permanent? Would you prefer a room mate that had the same preferences as yourself?”
I shifted my gaze around the exclusive club. Everywhere men wore green carnations and laughed together in couples or in groups. I nodded with a sigh. It seemed like it had been a lifetime ago that I had been one of these men.
“Watson… you’re not thinking of servicing the bed to pay for your board, are you?”
“What man would have me?” I replied quietly. “I’m just broken… and tired, Samford.”
“What are you going on about? The John Watson I know could have any man in this room begging for his company.”
“That John Watson is gone, I’m sorry to say.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Samford replied. “As it were I do know of one gentleman here who is looking for a room mate. Come... I’ll make introductions.” Samford led me through the groupings of men in the main room to a far back corner where two men sat, smoking and drinking together.
The taller of the two held a noble bearing. His hair was dark as ebony and his frame lithe yet powerful. His grey eyes gave me an appraising look and for a moment I felt like something in a Petri dish. The other was fairer and shorter, slightly stocky. He had a quick smile for Samford and me as we stood there.
“You’re looking for a room mate, are you?” The tall man asked.
The words startled me. It seemed odd that the man could read minds. For a moment I thought on Spiritualists of the era who spoke to the dead.
“I’m not a Medium… I know I mentioned needing a room mate to Samford.” The taller man spoke as if I had voiced my thoughts.
“Sherlock Holmes this is Doctor John Watson.”
I felt something hard and heavy clap me on my shoulder, sending pain down my arm and spine. Flinching I tried to cover my discomfort.
Holmes gave me a look. “Careful, man. It seems the doctor’s war wound hasn’t quite healed.”
Samford pulled his hand away guiltily. “I’m sorry, Watson. I didn’t know. You should have told me.”
“It’s fine.” I replied, finally regaining my powers of speech. “How did you know it was a war wound?”
“You’re a military man… a surgeon in the war. You’re in obvious pain when he thoughtlessly touched your shoulder. Would you like to see the rooms I have picked out?”
“Just like that?” I whispered.
“You are rather desperate for a place to live, aren’t you?” Holmes asked with a quick smile. “I’m ready to depart if you are.”
Holmes’ companion opened his mouth as if to raise an objection.
“Have a splendid evening.” Holmes smiled brightly and drained his drink before standing up. “Come along, Doctor.”
The cab ride was in silence but it seemed Holmes was reading me like a book. I found it only a trifle disquieting, which worried me. Had I really grown so dispassionate that I didn’t care what anyone else thought of me? I had been so obsessed with companions in the past.
The cab came to a halt outside of 221B Baker Street and Holmes led me inside. We climbed the stairs to the set of rooms. Holmes shut the door to the sitting room and locked it. “What do you think?”
I looked around. “The rooms are appealing enough.”
“And what about me?”
“From what I’ve seen…” I replied, feeling my cheeks redden. “Yes, appealing.”
“Do you have any bad habits?” Holmes asked, sitting upon the settee and indicating a chair.
“I used to spend very little time in my own bed. That ended when I was deployed.”
“I suppose our lifestyle is a rather dangerous one to have in the military.”
I nodded sullenly. “I have a temper and say things I don’t mean to say.”
“I can be very selfish.”
“I’ve been having nightmares. The landlord has raised my rent to compensate the inconvenience I have caused other guests.” I grit my teeth and tried to control my breathing.
I felt a gentle touch on my arm. “We all have ghosts, man.”
“I’m a broken man, Holmes.” I breathed.
“Let me be the judge of that. Will you disrobe?”
I stared for a long moment at the rug below my feet. “You won’t want me.”
“How do you know what I want?”
“What do you want?” I looked to him, finding the tall confident man I had met at the club look somewhat vulnerable during the course of our conversation.
“At the club you revealed that you were desperate… desperate enough to sleep for room and board. Shall we discuss that, Doctor John Watson? Something about the war changed you from the free spirit you had been into what you are now. There is pain within you… yes… and you seek something or someone to heal that within yourself because sleeping alone in your hotel room just makes it worse.” Holmes paused there and gave me a look as if daring me to disagree. “I know about the darkness… indeed I suffer from it as well… but that is not why I was at the club looking for a room mate. I have heard of the soothing properties of carnal activities. I am cursed with an overactive mind and I seek solace. So in short I was looking for a bed partner. It seems we are both in need of carnal therapy, don’t you agree?”
I gaped at him a moment. After a moment I regained my senses and nodded mutely.
“So please disrobe so I may get a better look at you. I shall do the same if that’s what you need.” Standing Holmes began to undo the buttons of his waistcoat. I followed suit, disrobing in silence. How many times had I done so in the past with other partners? But never had it happened with a man like Sherlock Holmes. No one else seemed to care about why I did what I did… they were only interested in the release. Holmes at least gave words to the darkness that was consuming me. We shared the darkness it seemed.
Finally I stepped out of my trousers and undergarments and looked at my companion, feeling more naked then I have ever felt with a partner. His eyes seemed to be consuming me with a sort of hunger. My body reacted as it used to react to such a situation of finding myself under the gaze of another man. With some relief I realized I could still gain an erection.
Holmes cleared his throat, bringing my attention back to his own body. It was as lithe as I imagined it to be. My eyes had been wandering somewhere near his left hipbone when he caught my attention. “Come to bed.” A hand reached out.
If someone had told me that morning that another human being would look on me with need or desire after what had happened to me on the battlefield… I would have thought them crazy. But there I was, casually strolling into the bedroom of a man I had only met less than an hour before. Idly I thought that he too must truly be desperate if he chose me over that young man he had been drinking with.
“I’m not looking for a one night thing, Watson… I want someone who wishes to stay. I believe that you’re such a man.” Again it seemed he could read my thoughts as he pushed me down upon his bed. For a time he sat above me, straddling my hips, his erection resting against mine on my belly. “I’ve already prepared myself. What position would you prefer?” Idly his fingers rested on my hips as if he didn’t know what to do with them.
I shook my head. “Any way you like.”
Holmes slid off of me and gently probed between my legs, encountering something I hoped he wouldn’t find just yet. I yelped and pulled away. Holmes stared at me. “You’re injured there.”
“It’s mostly healed.” I replied. “Just go slowly.”
“Who hurt you there?”
I shut my eyes and looked away. “It doesn’t matter… just be gentle for now. It’s just sore.” I tried to steady my breathing.
“You were forced?” Holmes breathed. “I… should have deduced. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“I can usually read people. It’s clear now… your depression… the nightmares…”
“Holmes… please stop analyzing it. I just want to be normal again… to return to my old self.”
Holmes regarded me with a sad look and I felt my heart shiver to see such a look upon his noble face. His erection was gone.
I reached out for him. “Please don’t pity me… come here.” Catching his arms I pulled him down to me and wrapped an arm around his waist. “Don’t think about that… I’m sorry it came up.” I kissed the base of his neck, smelling his skin as if committing it to memory. If he was to be my lover for a while I would willingly commit him to memory.
It seemed my kisses had some reaction for I felt his member once again spring to life. “Watson… Watson what are you doing?”
I chuckled against his skin, laving it with my tongue and kissing. “Kissing you.” I followed his throat up to his chin. “Do you want me to stop?”
Holmes sighed and held himself against me. “No. But is this what men do? Kiss?”
“Don’t you know?” I whispered, nibbling under his chin to his earlobe.
“Not in my experience, no… but I like it.” Holmes’ voice was hesitant and stopped when I had pulled away momentarily to look at him.
“You’ve never been kissed?”
“Is that wrong?”
“You tell me.” I kissed his lips sweetly. Quickly he gave in to me deepening the kiss, opening my mouth to his.
“Enter me, Watson… I’m prepared.”
Reaching down I guided his hips over mine so he could impale himself. I had never thought I would penetrate anyone again and yet this beautiful man took great delight in my body as I took delight in his. We were like wild animals heading the call of the blood to mate. I peppered our writhing with burning hot kisses upon any part of him I could catch and, bless him, he indulged me, even meeting my lips eagerly as he tightened on me. Thick, hot ropes of his semen graced my belly and chest as my own emptied deep within him.
We lay there panting for a time, huddled together as one being. I didn’t ask how he had prepared himself without my noticing. No doubt he had done so before he even went to the club. Holmes had been on the prowl for a bed partner… and really anyone could have fit that job… it just happened to fall to me.
After a long time of his silence I began to wonder if he was brooding. But the look on his face was that of pure bliss. With a smile he licked his upper lip, eyes closed. “Yes, Watson… I am deeply satisfied.” Again he answered my unspoken thoughts. “I think this is the beginning of a very harmonious partnership.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” I replied, running my hands down his spine.
Holmes visibly shivered, his smile growing. Finally he opened his eyes and stared down at me. “My bed is yours.” Impishly he got up and began to clean us off with a nearby towel that looked like it had been placed there in anticipation. I stared at where the towel had been, glancing my attention at him as he washed my penis. “I had made some preparation for tonight in anticipation of being successful in procuring a flat mate. I prepared myself and the cleanup afterwards to help facilitate a first meeting as it were.”
“How did you know that you would find a proper flat mate?” I asked quietly.
Holmes stared at me with his grey eyes. “I didn’t… but I anticipated that I would bring someone here tonight… whether they would be the proper partner or not was up to the fates. Fate smiled.” Tossing the towel aside he lay down beside me on the bed, pulling the blankets up to cover us. Giving me a light kiss he turned down the lamp and prepared to sleep. “Goodnight Watson.”
“Goodnight Holmes.”
I am pleased to note I didn’t have any nightmares that night.
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My Dearest Holmes