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Six Weeks	By : Leloi Category: Titles in the Public Domain > Sherlock Holmes > Slash > Slash Views: 4258 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work fiction, based on the Sherlock Holmes series by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

Chapter List
- 1-Six Weeks
- 2-Week 2
- 3-Week 3
- 4-Week 4
- 5-Week 5
- 1
- 2
- 3
Week 2, Holmes

I watched with interest as Watson went about breaking the plaster that surrounded my leg, keeping it immobile. Carefully he unwrapped and I admired his work. It was always a joy to be on the receiving end of Watson’s craft. His fingers held such tenderness about them as he probed and tested. I heard him catch his breath as he exposed my leg.

“The swelling has gone down, which is good. These bruises will last for a little while longer, I’m afraid.” Gently his fingertips appraised the bone. “It feels alright. Correct placement and alignment.” He smiled up at me, relief in his eyes. I gave him a smile back, taking delight at the blush on his cheeks. “I’ll just… re-plaster this.” Quickly he set about replacing the plaster on my leg and waited for it to set.

“Well?” I asked, hoping to remind him.

“What?” His hazel eyes glanced back up at me.

“Was I a good patient?”

“The best…”

“So where is my reward?” I grinned wickedly at him.

He glanced at my bedroom door which was safely locked in anticipation of my promised treat. Obviously finding it to his liking he opened my trousers and took out my excited member. “Sherlock Holmes you are the most incorrigible, insatiable man I ever met…” His mouth was warm and I couldn’t help but let out a soft moan of satisfaction. It was not often that he did this act in the light of day but I loved watching him. His eyes were closed and occasionally his mustache tickled my sensitive skin.

I remembered my time as a college student… the boy who occasionally sought me out and did the same. Once word got out that Victor had had me, they came to taunt me… to force me…

“Holmes.”

I blinked a few times, coming back to the present. Watson stared up at me with concern in his gentle eyes. “I… yes?” I replied, somewhat confused.

His hand caught mine. “Stay with me… Don’t fall into one of your moods.” His hand tightened and I tightened back.

“I was just thinking about college…” I replied somewhat carelessly and I immediately regretted it.

Watson sat up. “What happened to you in college?”

I reached out and placed my hand on his brunette head, “Finish first, I promise I’ll enlighten you.”

With satisfaction Watson didn’t protest but returned to where he had been, with much more vigor, no doubt to make me finish so I could tell him what he wanted to know. I daresay it worked rather well. Within a few moments I found myself with my hands wrapped in his hair, pulling him against me. As I died and felt heaven overwhelm me Watson pulled away and smoothed back his hair. Carefully he lay beside me on the bed, his head resting on one hand as he watched me recover. “Tell me…” His voice was soft and husky.

“I told you that you were my first…” I replied finally as I rolled over to face him, drawing up my knees. “And it’s true… to a point.” Lazily I adjusted the bedclothes so that they covered the both of us. “Did I tell you… that I was a rather strange child?”

“No… you did not.” Watson replied, sharing my pillow so that our heads were close together.

“The other boys loved to play sports or speak in sordid whispers about the mysteries of females.” I licked my lip and watched Watson watch me. “I, myself, was more interested in mysteries of death, anatomy and chemistry. I had no mind for sports so you can imagine I was a rather gangly youth. As I grew it seemed I became ganglier over time. They laughed at me… and teased me. Eventually that teasing became fights. I was not physically strong enough to stop them. They called me unmanly.” I sighed, thinking back on all the name-calling and taunts I had suffered. “It’s unbecoming of one from my class to become so weak… or so my father believed… and so I received lessons in the martial arts by one of our servants.”

“Unmanly?” Watson breathed, staring into my eyes. “I can’t imagine any such thing.”

“This was before puberty, I assure you.” I chuckled softly. “As time would have it the practice of the arts created muscle and form more befitting of my status. Then came college. I was rooming with a boy who later became a friend. Out of boredom and self discovery we did a little experimentation. It was just that, experimentation… same as any other young man would do with their own body. It was almost innocent… and sweet for we were classmates and friends. But then the other boys found out… They caught us together and laughed and mocked us. I can still remember the torment on his face as he was found out between my legs. After that I cut off all contact with everyone and spent more time in the lab, refocusing on my career. Often they would seek me out and try to force me into more compromising positions, to which I fought back most valiantly. Sometimes for a while they got the upper hand, but I was determined not to let them win.”

“Holmes…” Watson sat up, his hand on my chest. “Is this why…? You were humiliated? Your roommate was humiliated.”

“That hardly explains it… for I am more than willing to share every part of my body with you if you want it, even if it means utter humiliation. It’s the price I pay for spending the rest of my life with you. But I’d like to think I’ve learned something about humanity, which you have had the eternal patience to teach me since when we met. When we were introduced I was a foolish lad who only just recently became a man of twenty one years.”

“You were rather young at our first meeting… hotheaded and enthusiastic with youth… Maybe more than a little idealistic about the way things should be.” Watson mused.

“And you, a sickly, veteran of war who had already seen too much death in your twenty seven years, but never the less brilliantly filled a room with your eagerness to understand.” I responded fondly.

“Who tried to do what society expected of him and settle for marriage…” Watson whispered, his eyes losing their light.

“You picked well… So I let you go… and then you lost her.”

“After losing you… I lost everyone I had ever loved in such a short time.”

“But you got me back when you were ready for me to rejoin you in a domestic partnership.”

“Domestic partnership? Is that what you’re calling it now? I thought you were thinking of intimate friendship.” He stated bluntly.

“By the time I returned to you I was twenty seven and ready to settle down as you had been when you were my age. Or I just realized how close I came to losing you forever. One of those… Either answer will do for this pillow talk.”

“Do you consider us to be married, Holmes?” Watson rested his hand on my cheek.

“That goes beyond pillow talk, my dearest Watson. We should be discussing silly little stories of our youth to amuse each other in post coital bliss… not deeper bounds of our relationship. After all, pleasure makes us eager for more and so we’ll say what we need to make sure it happens again. That’s why the urge is there.”

“As you admit yourself I am your first real partner in bed… so how would you know what is to be discussed? Besides your brother Mycroft accepts us as a couple and even gave us a wedding present which we must reply with a gracious thank you note, by the way…”

I took his left hand in mine and examined where his wedding ring had been. To his credit he had removed it shortly after he returned to our home. There was still an indentation. I kissed it, suddenly inspired as to what to spend part Mycroft’s wedding present on. No one would be the wiser if Watson suddenly took to wearing a ring again. He had already established himself as the marrying type. “Would you wear a ring for me?” I asked carelessly. He was the one who put the thought of weddings in my mind. But he had taken Mary’s ring and removed it when mourning was over and he was with a new partner. Would he take a ring again?

“What? Oh Holmes… Where would we get the money for such a thing?” Watson inquired.

“I can think of no better use for a wedding present…” I replied casually, my tongue tasting his skin.

“I can just use my old one.”

“No!” I grew angry. He flinched and I regretted my outburst immediately. “I mean to say… that it would be from me to you as a token of myself. The one you have is hers.”

“I… understand, Holmes. I’m sorry.” He lay back down beside me and regarded my own empty finger. “What about you?”

“Your anal sphincter is the only ring I need.” I mused, grinning at him.

“You’re so nasty!” Watson shot back, swatting at my chest as I chuckled softly.

I gripped him closer to me, feeling very calm in his presence. He often had that affect on me. He was one of the very few people who understood me so completely. Of course I had many acquaintances but there were too few that I even considered friends. And certainly there was only one I would sacrifice my own life for. That is what I had done when I faked my death, giving up my life and my name to spend three years in exile as a non-person. I gave up my identity so he could move on with his life. The fact that I could make my enemies dismiss him as a target was just an added benefit.

I had been rather lucky that he had been so quick to forgive me. And I wondered if my willingness to give in to his need for a label to our partnership was a way to make it up to him and hold him to me. Without my ring would he fly away again? Honestly I never want to find out.
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Six Weeks