![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
Sherlock (BBC) - Excel
I... really have no excuse for this.
Title: Excel
Genre: Sherlock (BBC), Holmes/Watson
Rating: R [Nothing explicit, but it’s pretty obvious where things are going when they fade to black.]
Length: 925 words
Spoilers: None, really.
Synopsis: Sherlock will excel at anything he does.
Author’s Notes: I’m sorry? Maybe?
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and am making no profit from this.
~~~~~~~~~~
If asked, Watson would say the drink made him do it.
If asked, Watson would say the drink made little to no difference in Holmes’ arrogance.
“I excel at everything I do,” Sherlock declared right before he took quite a large draught from his brandy snifter.
“Everything?” John asked, infusing his voice with as much doubt as he dared. Considering they were a fair ways through a bottle at this point, it was quite a lot.
“Everything,” Holmes confirmed in his “were you not just listening and how can your brain work at such a low level of consciousness?” tone. He took another drink and eyed the bottle for more.
“What about sex?” Watson baited.
Sherlock snorted in a less than delicate manner, the force of the air forming little bubbles in the amber liquid. “I will have you know that I leave my partners quite thoroughly satisfied and that I have never had any complaints,” he said haughtily.
Watson debated his next words before deciding sod it all and he could blame it all on the booze come morning and asked, “What about submitting?”
Sherlock paused with the glass half raised to his lips. “During sex, you mean?” he verified. Watson nodded. “I have never submitted during sex. Why would I lower myself in such a way when I am quite clearly the dominant and superior in any relationship?”
Now it was Watson’s turn to be smug. When in doubt, always go for the ego, he had learned quite quickly in his affiliation with the would-be detective. “But you do not know for certain, do you?” he asked with forced innocence. “How could you know if you excel at that, excel at truly everything if you have never experienced such a thing?”
Sherlock narrowed his eyes, which was quite the feat as Watson was not certain how he was seeing at all at this point, and lowered his glass slightly. “Are you mocking me?” he asked, slowly, enunciating each word clearly and carefully.
“I would never dream of such a thing,” Watson replied with the same false virtue. He took a carefully measured sip of his brandy and let it burn a path down his near anesthetized throat. “I am just pointing out a fault in your declaration.”
“You’re saying I’m wrong?” Sherlock inquired. His voice dripped with ill-concealed venom.
“No, I am saying that you cannot speak to your personal performance as you have yet to be exposed to the situation,” Watson replied. He was very proud of linking that many words together, let alone in a coherent order.
Sherlock slammed his glass down on a guiltless book with enough force that a few drops slipped up and over the side; quite the feat considering how little was left. He stood on wobbly legs and demanded, “Well, come on then!”
Watson raised an eyebrow at him. He then raised the other when he realised it seemed more like he was winking than looking doubtful. “Come on what?” he asked.
Sherlock prised the glass from his fingers and set it next to his own. “Come on and present to me the situation so that I can demonstrate how I will excel at that as well,” he said.
This time, his voice was less patronizing and more almost pleading. Watson was not certain if the plea was for knowledge, showmanship, or lust. He pretended that he did not fully understand more than just the tone and verified, “You wish to have sex? Now?”
Holmes tugged at his sleeve and tried to pull him up beside him. “Yes,” he verified. “Specifically with you in the dominant position and myself in the submissive.”
“We call it ‘top,’ as in I would be topping you,” Watson helpfully provided. He desperately tried to keep the smirk off of his face as he knew that would end things outright and there was no way he wanted to miss this.
“Yes, yes, whatever,” Sherlock waved him off. He tugged again, this time towards the doorway that led to the bedroom he had apparently chosen for this experiment.
Watson shuffled to follow, but could not resist, “As the submissive, I believe you should fetch the supplies.”
Sherlock turned and gifted him with a look of annoyance. “Is it not the ‘dominant’s’ job to provide for the submissive?” he asked.
“Why? You never do,” John grumbled under his breath. He noted that Sherlock altered his course to the appropriate cabinet, however, and had to bite back another grin at Holmes’ resolve to be the best, whatever the task.
Sherlock returned by the time John had fully entered the room and unceremoniously dumped the requested items on the bedside table. He turned around and declared, with full and customary haughtiness firmly in place, “Prepare to be submitted to.”
Watson finally let a hint of a smile slip forth as he unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt. He only hoped he was still sober enough to remember this come morning as he knew there was a fair chance Sherlock would make him live to regret this. Then again, there was a chance he would not and Watson knew they both lived for a good game of chance. Besides, this was something he was truly hoping Sherlock would excel at and, really, who was he to deny him the opportunity?
“Well, come on then!” Sherlock shouted from his new position splayed out atop the bed.
Watson simply shook his head and decided that no, there was no way he was going to regret this after all.
~~~~~~~~~~
Feedback is always welcomed.
Title: Excel
Genre: Sherlock (BBC), Holmes/Watson
Rating: R [Nothing explicit, but it’s pretty obvious where things are going when they fade to black.]
Length: 925 words
Spoilers: None, really.
Synopsis: Sherlock will excel at anything he does.
Author’s Notes: I’m sorry? Maybe?
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and am making no profit from this.
~~~~~~~~~~
If asked, Watson would say the drink made him do it.
If asked, Watson would say the drink made little to no difference in Holmes’ arrogance.
“I excel at everything I do,” Sherlock declared right before he took quite a large draught from his brandy snifter.
“Everything?” John asked, infusing his voice with as much doubt as he dared. Considering they were a fair ways through a bottle at this point, it was quite a lot.
“Everything,” Holmes confirmed in his “were you not just listening and how can your brain work at such a low level of consciousness?” tone. He took another drink and eyed the bottle for more.
“What about sex?” Watson baited.
Sherlock snorted in a less than delicate manner, the force of the air forming little bubbles in the amber liquid. “I will have you know that I leave my partners quite thoroughly satisfied and that I have never had any complaints,” he said haughtily.
Watson debated his next words before deciding sod it all and he could blame it all on the booze come morning and asked, “What about submitting?”
Sherlock paused with the glass half raised to his lips. “During sex, you mean?” he verified. Watson nodded. “I have never submitted during sex. Why would I lower myself in such a way when I am quite clearly the dominant and superior in any relationship?”
Now it was Watson’s turn to be smug. When in doubt, always go for the ego, he had learned quite quickly in his affiliation with the would-be detective. “But you do not know for certain, do you?” he asked with forced innocence. “How could you know if you excel at that, excel at truly everything if you have never experienced such a thing?”
Sherlock narrowed his eyes, which was quite the feat as Watson was not certain how he was seeing at all at this point, and lowered his glass slightly. “Are you mocking me?” he asked, slowly, enunciating each word clearly and carefully.
“I would never dream of such a thing,” Watson replied with the same false virtue. He took a carefully measured sip of his brandy and let it burn a path down his near anesthetized throat. “I am just pointing out a fault in your declaration.”
“You’re saying I’m wrong?” Sherlock inquired. His voice dripped with ill-concealed venom.
“No, I am saying that you cannot speak to your personal performance as you have yet to be exposed to the situation,” Watson replied. He was very proud of linking that many words together, let alone in a coherent order.
Sherlock slammed his glass down on a guiltless book with enough force that a few drops slipped up and over the side; quite the feat considering how little was left. He stood on wobbly legs and demanded, “Well, come on then!”
Watson raised an eyebrow at him. He then raised the other when he realised it seemed more like he was winking than looking doubtful. “Come on what?” he asked.
Sherlock prised the glass from his fingers and set it next to his own. “Come on and present to me the situation so that I can demonstrate how I will excel at that as well,” he said.
This time, his voice was less patronizing and more almost pleading. Watson was not certain if the plea was for knowledge, showmanship, or lust. He pretended that he did not fully understand more than just the tone and verified, “You wish to have sex? Now?”
Holmes tugged at his sleeve and tried to pull him up beside him. “Yes,” he verified. “Specifically with you in the dominant position and myself in the submissive.”
“We call it ‘top,’ as in I would be topping you,” Watson helpfully provided. He desperately tried to keep the smirk off of his face as he knew that would end things outright and there was no way he wanted to miss this.
“Yes, yes, whatever,” Sherlock waved him off. He tugged again, this time towards the doorway that led to the bedroom he had apparently chosen for this experiment.
Watson shuffled to follow, but could not resist, “As the submissive, I believe you should fetch the supplies.”
Sherlock turned and gifted him with a look of annoyance. “Is it not the ‘dominant’s’ job to provide for the submissive?” he asked.
“Why? You never do,” John grumbled under his breath. He noted that Sherlock altered his course to the appropriate cabinet, however, and had to bite back another grin at Holmes’ resolve to be the best, whatever the task.
Sherlock returned by the time John had fully entered the room and unceremoniously dumped the requested items on the bedside table. He turned around and declared, with full and customary haughtiness firmly in place, “Prepare to be submitted to.”
Watson finally let a hint of a smile slip forth as he unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt. He only hoped he was still sober enough to remember this come morning as he knew there was a fair chance Sherlock would make him live to regret this. Then again, there was a chance he would not and Watson knew they both lived for a good game of chance. Besides, this was something he was truly hoping Sherlock would excel at and, really, who was he to deny him the opportunity?
“Well, come on then!” Sherlock shouted from his new position splayed out atop the bed.
Watson simply shook his head and decided that no, there was no way he was going to regret this after all.
~~~~~~~~~~
Feedback is always welcomed.
no subject
But it seems LJ ate some of your post? Where's the sex scene? :P
no subject
overactiveimagination run free sort of thing. *nods*Very happy you like it, ma'am! I am starting to like this little universe almost as much as the Merlin universe - blast BBC and their awesomeness...