sherlockbbc_fic | Prompting Part XXXIV

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Prompting Part XXXIV

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In an exuberant mood, John gives Sherlock a matey smack on the bum, something totally outside Sherlock's experience. On another occasion John lightly smacks the back of Sherlock's hand to keep him from touching something he shouldn't...a series of friendly, affectionate touches from John.

Sherlock has never experienced these friendly (I can hear him in my head: Are they friendly? Why are they friendly?) gestures before in his life, in fact he can't stand for most people to even touch or brush against him but he doesn't mind it from John. And no one really tries to touch him but John doesn't think twice about it.

He is out of his depth trying to work it out. Why does John do it, why doesn't Sherlock mind, what does John gain from them? He never does it when angry so it must be a form of affection?

Basically, Sherlock learning about affection from John, who is just being John and has no ulterior motives except his own affection for Sherlock.

Hee, I'd love to see the look on Sherlock's face when John gives him a manly swat on the arse. God, if they would only do that in the series, priceless!

OMG best prompt evah

I love fics where Sherlock is figuring out how to be more human and I love the twist here. Most fics focus on him developing love and other positive feelings and this is a great idea, that he has to figure out the touching bit of feelings as well, I don't think I've ever read a fic that's focused on that aspect before.

OMG, just imagining the look on his face!

Oh yes please, I want to read this. I can't think of any stories off the top of my head that touch on Sherlock getting used to John touching him (pun intended!) and I can so imagine him tentatively start touching back. : )

Excellent prompt, I love 'curious' Sherlock and Sherlock coping with all of these new feelings and stimuluses that John brings into his life and the way that John manages to somehow balance treating Sherlock as a unique, special and precious individual and yet a regular person at the same time - if that makes any sense?

I've got an image in my head of Mycroft seeing that manly swat to Sherlock's bum on the cctv and spitting tea all over his multi-million pound state-of-the-art surveillance console, lol!

I thought I would give this a go :-) It is such a sweet prompt! this is just a short fill, probably 2 or 3 parts

part 1/?

Sherlock thought he knew everything there was to know about John. And it wasn’t that he was boring – oh far from it. There was some give within a certain set of variables, and that was what kept things interesting. Aside from the fact that it was John and he liked John.

But sometimes, he was surprised.

“No Sherlock! Don’t touch that.”

Sherlock withdrew his fingers rapidly, and blinked slightly. John had rapped him across the knuckles.

“I don’t want you experimenting with my lunch. I miss enough meals as it is. Surely you have some cadmium sugar…”

“Arsenic,” corrected Sherlock absently, rubbing his knuckles.

“Poisonous is the point. You don’t need my lunch. Go buy something fresh if you want but hands off my lunch.”

Sherlock hadn’t gone and got anything new. Instead he threw himself on the couch and stared at his knuckles. Why had John done that? Did he think he was a child? He recalled that children were occasionally rapped across the knuckles, in form of a mild punishment? And why would John be using such a form?

Sherlock… didn’t know. And that was unacceptable.

------------

“Oi Sherlock! Stop prodding my lunch. If you actually want to eat I am happy to make yo something, but I don’t trust you sticking your hands in there.”

John didn’t even get up this time. So it wasn’t the same response. Was it proximity? Did John need to be closer in order to trigger the physical reaction? This obviously required more research.

---------------

John was talking quietly to Lestrade.

“John,” Sherlock demanded. “I need you to look at this.”

Both men made their way to Sherlock, although John was rolling his eyes. “And what exactly do you need me for, Sherlock? I doubt there is anything I could observe that you haven’t already seen.”

Sherlock sniffed. “Of course. But it is good for the police to see that you, a civilian can observe so much more than they.”

“That isn’t quite fair, Sherlock.” Lestrade started to say. While John joined in with, “Not just a civilian, Sherlock. I’m a doctor and war veteran. Both of those help with observation. Now where I am I supposed to be looking.”

“Right here John!” Sherlock pointed with a flourish. John looked impressed.

“I can’t see round you, Sherlock. If you want me to look there, you’ll have… oh bugger it.” And John grabbed Sherlock lightly round the waist, and twisted him around, before dropping to the ground to look at where Sherlock had pointed.

John was talking, but Sherlock wasn’t hearing. What had just happened? Why had John done that? He hadn’t seemed angry. He sounded much the same as usual – that combination of affectionate and exasperated. But he laid hands on Sherlock. It was remarkably intimate.

But it didn’t seem sexual. John’s hands didn’t linger, and he went immediately to his next task. Sherlock’s brow furrowed. So what was the intent behind such a thing? In his experience, touch was associated with strong emotion – anger, passion, anger. But John didn’t appear to have any strong emotion behind that particular touch.

“… 24 hours. Sherlock, are you even listening to me? Sherlock!!”

Obviously this required more research.

glad this is getting a fill! nice start.

Yay! Liking this!

Sherlock continued to catalogue John’s physical incursions. There seemed no pattern to the touches.

A (friendly) hand on the shoulder. But was it friendly? And why the shoulder? It wasn’t the closest point of his body to John’s hand. He could have easily reached for his wrist. Or hip. Sherlock calculated that there were 15 easily available and socially acceptable body parts that John could have reached for that had better access. So why the shoulder? It had been his left shoulder, so was there some synchronicity with his own wound?

An (exasperated) bump with the shoulder. John’s left shoulder had made contact with Sherlock’s arm. It hadn’t been hard. It hadn’t hurt. It had been accompanied with an exasperated ‘Oh Sherlock’, thus leading to the conclusion that the movement had in and of itself been

A (distracted) tap with fingertips. John had been on his way out the door, and had just tapped Sherlock gently. Sherlock was still unsure as to the actual reason. Was it apology for leaving him? A reminder that he was actually leaving, and would not be able to fetch a pen?

Weeks passed, and Sherlock catalogues each and every touch, no matter how small. It was frustrating to not have any conclusive evidence any which way.

He stood in the kitchen, holding the latest petri dish of eyeballs (6 weeks at sub oxic conditions had not slowed the deterioration substantially. That was interesting. He must send John to get more eyeballs from Molly), and once again catalogues his findings.

There was no recognisable pattern. The type of touch (pressure, movement) was changeable, as was the place of touch (although the majority of touches were centered on the arms, hands and head, there were enough in other place – waist, leg, knee, shoulder – for the pattern to be unpredictable.)

Similarly, the intent behind the touches changed – from exasperation, to excitement, attention getting, safety (although Sherlock still believed that John had not needed to bodily hail him back from the edge of the building – he hadn’t been going to jump (again)), (self) comfort. There was a little more consistency here though. Not one touch had been instigated in anger.

This had been an interesting discover. One Sherlock had to link to his own response to the touch. He welcomed it, which was not an entirely welcome realisation. Sherlock had always shied away from physical contact, preferring to not sully himself with the great unwashed. So why was John different? He was pondering his own fallibility when John interrupted.

“Out of the way Sherlock,” John cheerfully called, giving his behind a firm tap on the way past. “I’m dying for a cuppa and your… Good grief! How old are those eyeballs? Their all green! And if those are the ones I am thinking of I am sure they were different colours… Don’t we have rules about how old body parts are before they have to be disposed of?”

“They are more like guidelines, John,” Sherlock replied, feeling slightly out of his depth. That had been a familial touch to his arse. “And it is more to do with the potential odours. As you should have observed you cannot smell anything, therefore they are within the allowable limits of what can be stored in the refridgerator.”

That, dear brother, was what we may refer to as a ‘manly pat on the arse’ MH

I notice you didn’t bother help to catalogue any other move SH Sherlock rapidly texted in reply.

You did not seem to require assistance with your assessment of previous situations MH

I didn’t require it now. SH

He cleared his throat. “John.”

“Yes, Sherlock?”

“Was that a…” He hated to use any of Mycroft’s expressions, regardless of how unlikely the words were to ever pass his brothers lips. “A ‘manly pat on the arse.’

John paused in the process of adding hot water to the tea mugs. “Well. I’m a man. And that was a pat. On your – another mans’ – arse. So yes,” he concluded, still cheerily. “That was a ‘manly pat on the arse.’ Well deduced, Sherlock!”

Sherlock pursed his lips. Damn it. He’d liked that too.

John seemed to pick up on his unease, and turned to face him, propping one hip against the kitchen counter. “You know Sherlock, it’s absolutely acceptable to like touch. To welcome it even. It makes us human.”

Sherlock sniffed. “Most humans may require it John, but this body is merely transport. It requires a bare minimum of food and sleep, but other than that it has no inherent needs.”

John frowned slightly, then his face cleared. “I know what your problem is. You need a hug.” He grinned broadly, and opened his arms wide. “Now come here you!”

Nice fic ! Too bad it's already over !

This was very sweet. I like the hug ending

thankyou! I wasn't quite sure how to end it... but the hug seemed right :)

*grin* short and sweet.

glad you liked it :)

Awwwwww so adorable!

Btw I think there's something missing in part two because it stops mid sentence..

I'm glad you enjoyed it!

(and you totally worried me! I had to go back and check I hadn't missed it when I copy-pasted!)

THIS HAS THE MISSING SECTION (an anon nicely pointed out I missed it. So sorry! it two sentences >_<)

What exactly had John been thinking? This was the first time he touched that part of his anatomy. Traditionally either an erogenous zone, or perhaps used for punishment, Sherlock had felt no strong emotions from John, nothing that indicated that Sherlock’s person was in any immediate danger.

Sherlock's pocket buzzed. Damn Mycroft.

That, dear brother, was what we may refer to as a ‘manly pat on the arse’ MH

I notice you didn’t bother help to catalogue any other move SH Sherlock rapidly texted in reply.

You did not seem to require assistance with your assessment of previous situations MH

I didn’t require it now. SH

He cleared his throat. “John.”

“Yes, Sherlock?”

“Was that a…” He hated to use any of Mycroft’s expressions, regardless of how unlikely the words were to ever pass his brothers lips. “A ‘manly pat on the arse’?"

John paused in the process of adding hot water to the tea mugs. “Well. I’m a man. And that was a pat. On your – another mans’ – arse. So yes,” he concluded, still cheerily. “That was a ‘manly pat on the arse.’ Well deduced, Sherlock!”

Sherlock pursed his lips. Damn it. He’d liked that touch too.

John seemed to pick up on his unease, and turned to face him, propping one hip against the kitchen counter. “You know Sherlock, it’s absolutely acceptable to like touch. To welcome it even. It makes us human.”

Sherlock sniffed. “Most humans may require it John, but this body is merely transport. It requires a bare minimum of food and sleep, but other than that it has no inherent needs.”

John frowned slightly, then his face cleared. “I know what your problem is. You need a hug.” He grinned broadly, and opened his arms wide. “Come here you!”

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