sherlockbbc_fic | Prompting Part XXXV

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Prompting Part XXXV

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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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“I’m not tired. I…I…would like to talk some more.”

John said nothing, just gave him another squeeze to encourage him.

After a moment of silence Sherlock asked, “How can you be so sure I can change, John? How can you know that?”

“Because you are talking about what happened for the first time in your life Sherlock; you are acknowledging what happened and the damage it did to you. That is a first huge step. And, what’s more, you want to get better, you want to be able to feel sexual and enjoy it−“

Sherlock interrupted. “Just with you, John. No one else.”

John smiled. “I have to admit I’m glad to hear that Sherlock, even though it’s selfish of me…”

“Does that mean you think I’m attractive, John?”

He wasn’t kidding, John realized incredulously. “Ah. Yes. Very attractive Sherlock,” he said cautiously; Sherlock was definitely not ready to hear about just how attractive John thought he was or all the things he had imagined them doing together, at one time or another…

“Is that okay, Sherlock, that I am sexually attracted to you?” he asked.

When he answered, Sherlock sounded surprised at himself, “It is…it makes me feel…proud...” He added hastily, “I don’t mean I want to do anything with you, because I don’t. But it makes me feel good to know you are…attracted to me. Even though it scares me too…”

John could tell Sherlock was becoming confused about his feelings, so he changed the subject. “You asked me why I’m confident that you can change. It’s more than just your desire to change. It’s because of the way you are Sherlock, I mean who you are.”

“Like what?” Sherlock was puzzled.

“Well, I don’t think you are really the sexless, empty shell that you think you are. Remember that sex isn’t just about penises in mouths or anuses, Sherlock, although it’s true that those experiences are pretty spectacular, the light show of sex, so to speak. There is a whole range of other physical experiences that are thrilling and wonderful as well. You know, other sensual things, like touch and taste and scent and sound, which happen anytime, not just in the bedroom. Those things can all be part sexuality too.”

He hugged Sherlock again and took a chance, “I’ve lived with you for five years now−even though you weren’t here for two of them,” he paused to poke Sherlock in the side in mock punishment, enjoying Sherlock’s wincing response, before he continued, “and I’ve observed you Sherlock. You are a very sensual man.” John hoped like mad that that statement wouldn’t frighten him…

He added, “I can’t help it, I’m a doctor, I look at bodies, all kinds of bodies, and try to understand what they’re telling me.”

After a long silence Sherlock asked carefully, “What does my body tell you, John?”

John gave an inward sigh of relief at Sherlock’s interested response. He closed his eyes and indulged himself. “I’ve watched you when you are thinking, Sherlock; you close your eyes and bring your fingertips up to stroke your mouth…almost like a kiss…and when you’re agitated, those same fingers slide a cigarette between your lips so you can draw in the smoke and taste…and you close your eyes and sigh…and sometimes when you’re very upset you tangle those same long fingers in your hair and pull until the pain distracts you from your frustration…and when you’re not comforting yourself with your hands and your fingers, you protect them in leather gloves, so smooth they feel like a second skin or shelter them in the warmth of the pockets of your overcoat.”

Sherlock was barely breathing he was listening so intently, so John continued, “Your fingertips are so sensitive that you can measure another’s pulse without pressing their skin, you can pick-pocket anything from anyone in the blink of an eye and you can feel a musical note through the strings of a violin before even you hear it…”

John fell silent.

“What else, John?” Sherlock’s voice was almost inaudible.

“The man I’ve watched, Sherlock, likes the caress of a cashmere scarf on his neck, a kiss from a curl of his own hair, a bit too long on his neck and the protection of a thick, wool coat collar, raised high. He likes the smooth stroke of finished cotton on his chest; a slim cut shirt with no vest between fabric and skin. He likes the softness of worsted wool trousers brushing his thighs and the whisper of silk socks over his feet. He wears French designer shoes of the finest leather, not as a status symbol but because in them he can feel the vibration of the city beneath his feet; he can sense its mood, its intent, its deepest secrets as he walks its pavements.” John stopped and looked down, “Am I right Sherlock?” he whispered.

“Yes, John.” Sherlock’s voice held a tiny tremor.

John continued softly, “The man I love and live with is sometimes overwhelmed by all that he senses; he needs the cool, silent, dimness of his bedroom and to be free from the restriction of clothing at all. On those days he wears nothing or just a bed sheet, not because he’s too lazy to dress but because cotton percale is the only thing he can bear to have touching his skin.”

John placed a gentle kiss on Sherlock’s head. “Do you know what my observations tell me, Sherlock?”

Another whisper, “What?”

My observations tell me that the sensitive little boy, who played in the brook and longed to share his love and his delight in the physical world with another, hasn’t gone anywhere. His abusers didn’t succeed in destroying him, not at all. He just went into hiding when he was hurt; he hid so deep and so well that not even you are aware that he is still here. But he is still inside you Sherlock; he still feels pleasure in worldly things and he loves, and he has never left you.”

John could feel wetness on his neck now where Sherlock’s cheek was resting and his whisper, near John’s ear, was hoarse, “If that’s true John, how do I reach him? I don’t know how to go back.”

“You don’t have to go back Sherlock; you just need to make it safe for him to come out now. He’s still afraid. He doesn’t want to feel that much pain or shame ever again, but I think he will come out when he knows it’s safe.”

John could feel Sherlock start to tremble and weep in earnest. He pulled him tightly against him and prayed this all wasn’t too much, too soon…perhaps he’d said too much…pushed Sherlock too hard.

As the minutes went by, finally Sherlock began to subside into stillness and quiet.

When he was still awake several minutes later, John, acting on intuition alone because he was now well past the limits of his rudimentary counselling skills, urged, “Tell him I’d like to meet him, Sherlock. Tell him I love him already; that I think he’s sweet and innocent and fun. Ask him to come out and play, Sherlock.”

Sherlock was silent.

John whispered, “Tell him it’s safe. You are an adult now, tell him you’ll protect him and that I’ll protect him too. Tell him you understand his fear and that you know that he had no one to help him when he was a little boy but that now he has both of us and together we’ll make sure no one ever hurts him again…” John was near tears himself. He whispered, “Tell him Nanny is gone and her devil’s workshop of punishments is closed. It’s gone and it will never be again. Tell him I won’t hurt him and that I just want to play pirates and swim in the starlight; tell him Sherlock.”

So beautiful.

John is a genius! :-O
I really love this! Please more!

This was my most favourite part. John showed Sherlock how observant he really is.

I'm addicted to this story.

leaps through computer into story and gives everyone a hug

This is just lovely, anon!

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