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For Your Many Considerations: Epilogue

“Holmes, please.”


“Holmes, you must stop this. If I spend myself one more time today I shan’t have the strength to meet our client in Devon tomorrow.”

“Well, now, that really is too bad of you, Watson,” my lover said. He made no attempts to stop what he was doing. “Supposing the case is so deep that a week passes before our next congress?”

“Supposing your ministrations are so deep I find myself unable to sit down for the next  week,” I countered, struggling to concentrate on words.

“Doctor, how you talk,” he said with mock scorn. “Now, be a good fellow and move your—that’s it.”

“Holmes,” I groaned into the pillow, but it was a lost cause. He was nimbly working his way towards my most sensitive area.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered with his lips against my ear. “Do you want me to stop?”

He knew I wanted no such thing, and his ensuing gasp was nearly enough to send me over the edge then and there. I grasped his thigh behind me and pressed into him.

“Whatever you do….please…don’t….stop,” I exhaled.

It has not always been this way.

In the first weeks of our intimacy, we did little but perfect the art of kissing, a skill which Holmes developed quickly and with the most gratifying interest. I thought I should never cease to gain a thrill from the simple way in which his hand would gently cradle my back when I leaned into him, or how delighted I was to learn that his tongue was as nimble and sensitive as his fingers. He seemed to me designed to be a great lover, for when his shy glances soon turned seductive I imagined that few citizens of the world would be able to resist the allure of his deep dark eyes.

Ah, those eyes. When they looked into mine with unguarded sincerity all that surrounded us seemed to fall away. Ours was a connection borne of the very closest friendship and the wonderment and awe which this inspired in us both was often communicated in the looks that passed between us. I would not trade those moments for anything, for even now his loving gazes are capable of bringing my world to a standstill.

When we first entered his bedroom, I knew what a rare privilege it was to be admitted to what had heretofore been his sole sanctuary. We slept together that night, side by side, half-undressed and having done no more than gently touch one another until the lull of mildly questing lips and hands brought us both to slumber. I watched him sleep before my own lids grew heavy, charmed and aroused by the look of innocent serenity on his face. It would not have taken but a few minutes to bring myself off as I gazed at him, but to do so would have risked awakening him and violating the chaste closeness that was enchanting in itself. I had told him I could wait, and I remained steadfast in my promise.

My patience was rewarded a week later when I asked Holmes if he was ready to engage in a more intimate fashion. He was willing but rather unsure of himself, and it would be a little longer before he granted me full access to his person. In the meantime, I wasted no time in instructing him on how to please a man. After an evening of heady and heated kissing, and after we had shed a fair amount of clothing, I gently guided his hand to my arousal and showed him what to do. The feel of his deft and sensitive fingers on my throbbing flesh was enough to send euphoric stings up my spine, and I shall never forget how intensely he watched my face during that first encounter. If he was taken somewhat aback by my ragged breathing and moans of pleasure, he was no less intrigued by the power he wielded over me in such a state.

“How remarkable,” he noted after I climaxed in a shuddering groan.

My initial attempts to pleasure him were less successful as his own flesh remained stubbornly unresponsive. He stopped me, apologized, and suggested he was simply not equipped for such attentions.

“Nonsense,” I scoffed. “You may be a genius, but you’re still a man.”

I found the solution a few days later in the form of a pigeon’s feather I had found on the windowsill of the sitting room. I laid along the length of him and we both watched as I lightly traced his graceful phallus with the very tip of it.

“There, you see,” I said with triumph as it twitched and danced and rose underneath the feather. He was soon fully erect, though it took several more sessions before he achieved his first orgasm.

It took him quite by surprise.

One lazy afternoon we had retreated into Holmes’s bedroom, with no particular mind to do anything but simply relax. What began as pleasant conversation became the slow erotic exercise of divesting each other various articles of clothing until we were both clad only in our trousers. We tousled playfully, half-caressing and half-wrestling one another until he bested me by rolling atop me and undulating his hips in a flirtatious challenge to see how long I could withstand the friction. However, the sudden growing insistence of his rhythm alerted my every sense to the fact that his own release was imminent.

“Watson,” he hissed urgently. “Watson...”

We both reached down between us and quickly unfastened our trousers. I shifted slightly underneath him in order to increase the contact between our hardened pricks. He cradled my neck and sped his thrusts while I pressed my hands into his buttocks.

And then it happened. Holmes squeezed his eyes closed and gasped, a small cry escaping his throat several seconds after he opened his mouth, as he finally surrendered himself to the little death. It overtook his body in a series of involuntary convulsions that caused his back to curl into an arc and his breath to quicken into little bursts. I held him close while he quaked and rocked on top of me.

“That was very singular indeed,” were his first words to me after he rolled to my side.

Needless to say, his first taste of the ultimate reward of sexual activity opened a vast realm of further possibilities. How he managed to remain so unrelentingly innocent mystified me, but it was all the more endearing, particularly the first time I lowered my mouth on him. We happened to be on a train at the time, but this is of little matter.

“Really, Watson, does that not seem a little extreme? I cannot see how…ah…why you should…oh…,” and we added one more avocation to our repertoire.

I must admit I delighted in shocking him the first time I bade him to take me.

“Come into me tonight,” I breathed into his ear one late night on the settee. We had been pleasantly tangling for some time.

“You want me to—?“ he asked in wide-eyed disbelief.

“I want to feel you inside me,” I whispered, relishing in his blush. I took his hand and led us into his bedroom where I had surreptitiously left a container of lime cream on the nightstand.

I showed him how to prepare us both and braced myself for the feeling of his length sliding into my tight heat. He grasped my right shoulder and entered me with painstaking and delicious slowness. It took some patience for us to achieve a position that was mutually comfortable, but it was well worth it. I’d never experienced such intense gratification with anyone, for this was the first time we had truly made love. The feel of his entire body pressed into me while he penetrated my very essence was exquisite. We did not climax together that first time, but the idea of being conjoined in the most intimate possible way helped us bring one another to an especially thunderous finish by other means.

“I suppose I ought to ask you where you learned to do that, Watson,” he said wearily as we lay side by side in sweat-soaked sheets.

“Well, one sees quite a bit in the army,” I answered. “Though I never experienced it firsthand, I bore witness to many a lonely coupling in Afghanistan. Incidentally, I do wish you’d temper your ah…enthusiasm just a little. While it adds immeasurably to my own pleasure, I am wary of rousing Mrs. Hudson’s suspicions.”

I actually supposed that half of London had been awakened by his belaboured cries.

“Oh Watson, you are so long-suffering,” he said as he rolled his eyes and reached for a cigarette from the nightstand. “Mrs. Hudson has known for weeks.”

“Really?” I drawled, staring at the ceiling.

“You take her for a blind fool?”

“Certainly not, but how…I mean, I’ve never said a word to her about us.”

“Our good landlady possesses eyes and ears, my dear fellow. I daresay my constant exposition on the benefits of observation have rubbed off on her.” He thoughtfully brought his cigarette to his lips.

“Are you sure?” I asked. I plucked the cigarette from his hand and stole a puff.

He rolled onto his side and propped himself on his forearm. “Do you know what she said to me last Friday, Watson? As I was preparing to go out and meet you at Marcini’s she brought me my hat and my stick and said, ‘Mustn’t keep the good doctor waiting, Mr. Holmes. He has been buzzing around like a happy butterfly all week and will surely burst with pride at how handsome you look tonight.’”

 “What did you say?” I asked him in astonishment.

“What could I say? I thanked the lady and went on my way.”

I grinned, and hoped Mrs. Hudson had enjoyed a rare moment in finding herself one step ahead of the great detective.

“You did look positively resplendent that night, Holmes,” I murmured, as I closed my eyes and fondly recalled the moment he entered the restaurant. Half the women and more than a few men turned and cast approving glances in his direction.

“Ah well, I suppose it would behoove us to have an ally. It will be all the more pleasant not to have to be on constant guard around here,” I said when I returned from my reverie.

He gave a throaty chuckle. “Well, I’m sure if she opened the door to the sitting room and found you bent over the settee and me thrusting vigourously into your backside, she may be more inclined towards a distasteful attitude.”

I blushed. “Mr. Holmes, how you talk.”

And now we lay, our bodies writhing together in that perfect and ancient rhythm, his soft cries reverberating against my neck and every space between us filled. To be with him like this far surpassed my every fantasy of a perfect first-time encounter; we had worked for it and earned it and never a day passed that I did not feel closer to him because of it.

In every new moment of intimacy we grew bolder and more spirited, and this time was no exception. I pushed myself onto my knees in order to feel him as deeply as I could, and he reciprocated with equal pressure, expertly plunging the well of bliss inside of me that wrenched uncontrollable shouts of ecstasy from my throat. We reached for my cock at the same time, and with his hand covering mine, together brought my release to an earth-shattering finish. As I spent myself raggedly onto the bed beneath us, Holmes redoubled his efforts in a fervid attempt to meet me at the height of my euphoria. Seconds later, I felt his body tense and immediately relax. He melted into my flesh, gyrating his hips in tiny circles with his groin pressed tightly against me to draw out his climax. He wrapped his arms around my torso and rocked us together until we collapsed in an exhausted heap.

We were quite some time in speaking again after that.

“You never cease to amaze me, John,” he murmured. My head was pillowed on his chest and he was tracing lazy circles on my arm.

I sat up and looked at him. “You’ve never called me John before.”

He frowned thoughtfully. “No, and I don’t believe I shall.”

“And I shan’t call you Sherlock, either. That is Mycroft’s domain.”

He smiled. “It is as well. No one calls me Holmes but you, nor to my knowledge do any of your friends or acquaintances call you Watson. I prefer to remain your Holmes and you my Watson. Is that all right?” He brushed his hand across my forehead and down my cheek.

I took his hand and kissed his palm. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, Holmes.”

“Thank you,” he whispered.

I settled against him and sighed contentedly. “And I thank you, my love, for your many considerations.”

I heard him laugh softly before he fell asleep.


( 28 comments — Leave a comment )
(Deleted comment)
Sep. 30th, 2009 02:32 pm (UTC)
Right? I couldn't write a love story without the tastiness.

Thank you for reading!
(Deleted comment)
Sep. 30th, 2009 12:32 am (UTC)
Hey, I want some too! *re-reads*
Sep. 30th, 2009 02:41 pm (UTC)
Thank you, my dear! Sweet dreams. :P
Sep. 30th, 2009 03:46 am (UTC)
Oh, simply excellent. While I think of Holmes as being experienced (because he wants to know about everything, so why wouldn't he know about sex?), I like how innocent you have him here. His curiosity was expected and well-written, and I enjoyed the slow progression of their bedroom relationship.

The line about the train? Frankly hilarious.

Good show.
Sep. 30th, 2009 02:34 pm (UTC)
Ah, thank you, thank you! I put this one together with past reader comments in mind--many had said they crave a more realistic development of a sexual relationship. I'm sure I don't have to tell you how much fun it is to imagine such a thing from every possible angle. :P
Sep. 30th, 2009 03:58 am (UTC)
I'm always a sucker for first-time fics and really, really enjoyed this one. So sweetly romantic... and hot, too!
Sep. 30th, 2009 02:35 pm (UTC)
Chalk me up as a sucker for first-times, too. More fun to read and write as if we're starting all over again from the very beginning. Thank you for your kind words!
Sep. 30th, 2009 04:14 am (UTC)
Sep. 30th, 2009 02:35 pm (UTC)
Thank you!
Sep. 30th, 2009 06:47 am (UTC)
Once again, another fabulous story! Brava!
Sep. 30th, 2009 02:35 pm (UTC)
Thank you, that means a lot to me!
Oct. 1st, 2009 02:49 pm (UTC)
Very sweet, and thoroughly lovely. The bits with and about Mrs. Hudson, in particular, made me all goopy; I'm a total sucker for "Mrs. Hudson knows and approves" tales. And, of course, it was sexy, too. Watson's instructions on how to kiss made me positively weak in the knees.
Oct. 1st, 2009 03:21 pm (UTC)
Oh thanks! I relish the approval of a sexpert like yourself. (Were you the one who wrote that short fic from Mrs. Hudson's POV? About how she found our heroes in bed together when she went in to give Holmes a message?)

Love your avatar, by the way. You come up with some really good ones.
Oct. 1st, 2009 04:58 pm (UTC)
Lol! I don't think I've ever been called a sexpert before. I'll freely admit to being as smutty-minded as the next fangirl, but I really don't think I merit a title XD

All the credit for the icon belongs to kcscribbler. And nope, I've never written a fic about Mrs. Hudson catching the boys in flagrante. I seem to remember reading one once, but very long ago...
Oct. 1st, 2009 08:28 pm (UTC)
Oh my word. That's just left me breathless (and I assure you, despite the head cold, that's quite a thing to achieve). That was just perfect and they so deserved it. Wonderful. Just wonderful.
Oct. 2nd, 2009 12:14 pm (UTC)
Thank you! And I hope you feel better soon!
Aug. 26th, 2010 06:49 pm (UTC)
wow, i loved this story so much. i hope you write another one like this soooonnn. the angst was so spot on and believable which is awesome cus im super picky and rarely find anything i like :
Aug. 26th, 2010 06:52 pm (UTC)
I'm totally flattered that my story suited your preferences.:) Thanks for stopping by to comment!
Aug. 26th, 2010 06:59 pm (UTC)
no worries dude, i am totally thrilled to have found another extremely well done SH fic :) thank YOU!
Feb. 8th, 2012 08:27 am (UTC)
WOW! This is just...WOW!
I'm soooo in love with this story!
I mean, I could really feel the pain as Watson confessed his love and Holmes couldn't return his feelings. I mean, to be honest, I think everybody knows how that feels... *sigh*
And the time after this. You could convince yourself that everything will be as it has been before like pretending nothing happened, but deep down you know that nothing will ever be the same again between you and your friend. Damn, this is so unfair! You showed this feeling so well via Watson, that I really had to stop myself and had to push this feeling away to prevent myself form crying, as you know what I mean. ;-)
And then the way Holmes admits that he considered in beeing with Watson in such a way but not knowing how, this was so "awwww"! ;-)
Of course I really liked the end of this, the way Holmes slowley opened up and taking so much pleasure in this kinda thing, too.
*sigh* Just a perfect story!
I love your style of writing so much!

Edited at 2012-02-08 08:27 am (UTC)
Feb. 8th, 2012 02:48 pm (UTC)
Well...gosh. I'm thrilled it had such an effect on you. Thanks for the beautiful comment, it's a nice thing to find on a gloomy Wednesday. :)
Oct. 11th, 2012 12:53 pm (UTC)
I can't express how much I enjoyed this story. It hit all my slashy fanfic buttons (first time, virgin Holmes, warm and fuzzy) while staying perfectly IC.
I love your style of writing and the fact that you write Holmes as Brett is just wonderful, because for me, he will always be Holmes. Thank you!!
Oct. 14th, 2012 09:15 pm (UTC)
Wow, thanks for coming to check out my stories! I really appreciate all the comments you left--it's been a while since I've been here and it's wonderful to know that someone's still enjoying my work. I'm hoping the inspiration returns soon, but until then, you're welcome to stop by anytime. Thanks again! Oh, and I love your avatar. Norwood Builder, hey? One of my favorites!
Mar. 20th, 2013 11:04 am (UTC)
Such a lovely story. I do like a good pining fic, and this was particularly nice in that Watson was so stoic about it and truly tried to put it behind him. Also that it wasn't immediately clear whether Holmes returned his affection, and it could well have gone back to being platonic friends. I especially like that both of them are vulnerable and have weaknesses, and they love each other both because of and despite those things.
Mar. 20th, 2013 06:56 pm (UTC)
Thank you! I'm glad you found your way here and that you liked what you read. You're always welcome to stop by!
Mar. 20th, 2013 06:57 pm (UTC)
I'm actually here because of this rec: 221b-recs.livejournal.com/228966.html
and now I'm working my way through all of your Holmes/Watson fics. :)
Mar. 20th, 2013 07:01 pm (UTC)
Wow. An even bigger day-brightener! I appreciate the kind comment AND the link. *blushes happily*
( 28 comments — Leave a comment )