sherlockbbc_fic | Prompting Part XXXV

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GUIDELINES

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PROMPT FREEZES
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CONTACTING MODS
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MEME LINKS
Pinboard Archive - Delicious Archive - Guide to the Archive
Filled Prompts Posts: Parts 1-23 - Parts 24+ - Spoiler Free
The Glorious FAQ - Page-A-Mod

Flat View of This Page - Newest Page in Flatview - Newest Page of the Meme

Love Post - Chatter Post - Searching Post
Concrit Post - Story Announcement Post - Orphan Post
Spoiler Free Prompt Post - Overflow Post

Links to previous prompting parts

OTHER LINKS AND AFFILIATES

sherlock_rant: A place to rant about or discuss anything with few to no restrictions.

sherlock_rpf: This is a kinkmeme for RPF about the show.

sherlockcrit: A multi-fandom betaing/concrit community, with a focus on BBC Sherlock.

sherlockbbc: A community dedicated to the BBC adaptation of Sherlock Holmes.
Useful resources for Sherlock and LiveJournal.
Sherlock screencaps.

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

At dinner, Seb does most of the talking. A bright young man with a brilliant career, or so he seems if he’s to be judged by his own words. Sherlock’s mother looks benevolently at him. “I suppose Sherlock could have succeeded in the banking sphere too if he’d put his mind to it,” she says with a meaningful look in Sherlock’s direction. “As well as in politics.” A glance to where Mycroft is idly dissecting a crumbly piece of cake on his plate. “Unfortunately, Sherlock has always been somewhat unruly. I hoped he’d at least make a scientific career, but he’s more into all this romantic stuff with chasing criminals. I gave up mine for the sake of children, you see. I had more ambitions on their part. I suppose it’s my fault, as a mother, that I haven’t explained to Sherlock well enough that being a genius isn’t a profession in itself.” She gives Sherlock a fond smile. It’s a bit disappointing, her expression says, but now it’s too late to do something about it, and I still love you of course.

Sherlock winces at her words, like she’s worrying an old, barely healed wound. “I do have a profession.”

An affectionate smile again. “If you say so, dear. But it seems to bring you more trouble than gain, doesn’t it? Anyway, I’m glad that you keep in touch with your uni friends. Maybe it will give you ideas.”

Sebastian playfully smacks Sherlock on the shoulder. “Oh we do keep in touch a lot now.”

Late at night, John tosses and turns in an unfamiliar bed, yawning now and then but sleepless. He can hear Sherlock pacing restlessly in the next room, and it’s so much like the old days at Baker Street that a pang of nostalgia suddenly makes his heart clench. John sits up. He considers knocking on Sherlock’s door, with no particular intention, just on a silly impulse, but there’s a soft thumping of someone else’s cautious footsteps, a hesitant creak of a door being opened and closed, and then a low murmuring. Sherlock’s voice is subdued, like he keeps it down on purpose. Sebastian doesn’t. “Come on, Sherlock, don’t be a tease.” More indistinct muttering on Sherlock’s part. Sebastian’s confident reply: “No one will hear.”

Then there’s some rustling. The bed creaks. A strange sound—very much like a stifled groan, as if Sherlock’s face is pressed into the pillow, or he’s covering his mouth with a hand. John almost darts off to the door, in a surge of panic, when another sound makes him freeze in place. Thud. Thud. Thud. It’s the headboard bumping against the wall.

“So good,” Sebastian gasps, “so good. I’m close.”

John feels his face flush and his heart start beating faster than it should. Sherlock moans again, just a few inches away from him: a hoarse, quivering sound, but Sebastians’s enthusiastic panting muffles it, and thankfully, in a few minutes more it’s over.

Edited 2014-06-15 16:00 (UTC)

Prompting Part XXXV

Fill: The Light Long Gone (1b/?)