simonejester (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
simonejester) wrote2013-03-30 08:42 am
simonejester) wrote2013-03-30 08:42 am
Sherlock Fic Quotes #12 (some NSFW)
Ships this post: Mycroft/John (1), Greg/Mycroft (1), John/Sherlock (7)
“You know, there is one thing you can do for me,” he said when Mycroft had regained some of usual composure and was sipping at his second cup of tea while toying with a fondant fancy. Mycroft glanced up. What he saw in John's expression made him pause, cup halfway to lip. And there it was: that spike, that sudden thrill in the pit of John’s stomach and the soles of his feet. Not dead yet, mate. “You can fuck me,” he said.
There was a muffled cacophony as the attendant wheeled the tea trolley into a bookcase.
--Unconventional Weapons, by (AO3)Bold_as_Brass, (Mycroft/John)
===
"Mycroft." Greg's tone was a mixture of affection and annoyance. Affectionate annoyance. A perfect description of their entire relationship dynamic, actually, the ginger thought with a chuckle.
--Talk One More Time..., by (AO3)moriarteakettle, (Greg/Mycroft)
===
"Boy genius private eye. How cool is that? Really impressive."
"Extremely impressive," Sherlock agrees.
"Oi, his head doesn't need to get any bigger," says Bradstreet.
"The perfume you're wearing doesn't need to be applied to every one of your erogenous zones in order to be smelled from twenty yards off," Sherlock shoots back. "And why the notion of your breasts smelling like musk rose would be considered appealing is entirely beyond me."
"You want to work with me, you keep the breast remarks to a minimum," Bradstreet says evenly.
"If you want to work with me, and you do if you aren't stupid, which you are not, you'll shut up and we'll both listen to this man's story."
"Sherlock Holmes just said I wasn't stupid," Bradstreet drawls. She pulls out a small notepad and pen. "I'm going to have that fucking framed and hung over my bed."
"At least there plenty of people would see it."
--
Thank you, Sherlock says to the nothing in particular that he speaks to when most people would be talking to God, for giving me a whole case with him before it's too late.
--
"Do you always bring deadly weapons to dinner?"
"I don't see any dinner here," John says mildly. "Um. Do you?"
Sherlock grins as wide as ever he can.
"It was after the kidnapping," John explains. "I put it in my coat when I came over. Not to shoot you, mind. Just. I told you. I'm uncomfortable with kidnapping."
But you're comfortable with sex clubs, guns, and death threats, Sherlock thinks. You are a tiny little god.
--All the Best and Brightest Creatures, by (AO3)wordstings, (John/Asexual!Sherlock)
===
Sherlock is indispensable to John, and John knows it. That isn't a question any longer. But he is beginning to think of himself as a minor accessory in the pantheon of Sherlock's wild opera, the sort of character who lives and dies and is mourned for four measures if at all. It isn't that he wants to leave. It's that he thinks he'll probably be snatched away sometime soon. Which would be a shame, really, as he and Sherlock get on like a very successful bit of arson.
--The Paradox Suite, by (AO3)wordstrings, (John/Sherlock)
===
"I could...have something. For the sake of argument."
"Oh, but that's different. If you have something, I want it too."
And this is what Sherlock is still struggling to comprehend, why that statement in particular, which was really a harmless fact, dangerous only to Sherlock even in theoretical potential and never to other people, why should this offhand remark cause John's elbow to finally hit the tea mug and send it onto the kitchen floor with a smash. It wasn't a potentially unwelcome declaration of undying possession, and it wasn't even approaching what he wanted to say that morning, which was You must swear on your life never to leave me and never to stop looking at me the way you looked at me this morning, like I'm some sort of extraterrestrial miracle, because if I have to go back to the way it was yesterday, without having you, I will get a very long, very sharp, very, very Japanese knife, and I will--no, he hadn't said that. Nothing of the kind. Only I want it too. Which ought to be fine.
--The Death and Resurrection of the English Language, by (AO3)wordstrings, (John/Sherlock)
===
"Thames water, though I'll have to confirm it," he says happily.
"Jesus, it's like a pederast outside a primary school," Anderson scoffs to John. "How can you bear it? We might as well be watching him have a wank."
"For the record, I enjoy watching him have a wank just as much," John snaps, finally losing the reins.
The heads of four med techs swivel. Lestrade covers what looked like the start of a highly satisfied smile with a cough into his sleeve. Sherlock remains entirely still, and in the back of his mind John wonders why. But he's still too furious to bother asking.
Anderson, meanwhile, seems to realize that he's the one making the scene.
"Right," he says nastily. "Well, I had the wrong end, then. No offense." He holds out his hand.
"I'm not shaking hands with you."
"But," Anderson stammers. "Oh, come off it, I was only taking the piss. Why not?"
"Because Sherlock doesn't like having his things touched," John growls, exiting the room as fast as he can.
--Entirely Covered in Your Invisible Name, by (AO3)wordstrings, (John/Sherlock)
===
"I'm still angry, you know," John says, biting Sherlock's fleshy lower lip. "Torture is not on, Sherlock Holmes. Whether it's to do with Moriarty or not, whether you're the William Shakespeare of Atrociously Skewed Morals or not."
"I thought I was the Stephen Hawking of Fuckery."
"You've earned a new title."
--New Days to Throw Your Chains Away, by (AO3)wordstrings, (John/Sherlock)
“You know, there is one thing you can do for me,” he said when Mycroft had regained some of usual composure and was sipping at his second cup of tea while toying with a fondant fancy. Mycroft glanced up. What he saw in John's expression made him pause, cup halfway to lip. And there it was: that spike, that sudden thrill in the pit of John’s stomach and the soles of his feet. Not dead yet, mate. “You can fuck me,” he said.
There was a muffled cacophony as the attendant wheeled the tea trolley into a bookcase.
--Unconventional Weapons, by (AO3)Bold_as_Brass, (Mycroft/John)
===
"Mycroft." Greg's tone was a mixture of affection and annoyance. Affectionate annoyance. A perfect description of their entire relationship dynamic, actually, the ginger thought with a chuckle.
--Talk One More Time..., by (AO3)moriarteakettle, (Greg/Mycroft)
===
"Boy genius private eye. How cool is that? Really impressive."
"Extremely impressive," Sherlock agrees.
"Oi, his head doesn't need to get any bigger," says Bradstreet.
"The perfume you're wearing doesn't need to be applied to every one of your erogenous zones in order to be smelled from twenty yards off," Sherlock shoots back. "And why the notion of your breasts smelling like musk rose would be considered appealing is entirely beyond me."
"You want to work with me, you keep the breast remarks to a minimum," Bradstreet says evenly.
"If you want to work with me, and you do if you aren't stupid, which you are not, you'll shut up and we'll both listen to this man's story."
"Sherlock Holmes just said I wasn't stupid," Bradstreet drawls. She pulls out a small notepad and pen. "I'm going to have that fucking framed and hung over my bed."
"At least there plenty of people would see it."
--
Thank you, Sherlock says to the nothing in particular that he speaks to when most people would be talking to God, for giving me a whole case with him before it's too late.
--
"Do you always bring deadly weapons to dinner?"
"I don't see any dinner here," John says mildly. "Um. Do you?"
Sherlock grins as wide as ever he can.
"It was after the kidnapping," John explains. "I put it in my coat when I came over. Not to shoot you, mind. Just. I told you. I'm uncomfortable with kidnapping."
But you're comfortable with sex clubs, guns, and death threats, Sherlock thinks. You are a tiny little god.
--All the Best and Brightest Creatures, by (AO3)wordstings, (John/Asexual!Sherlock)
===
Sherlock is indispensable to John, and John knows it. That isn't a question any longer. But he is beginning to think of himself as a minor accessory in the pantheon of Sherlock's wild opera, the sort of character who lives and dies and is mourned for four measures if at all. It isn't that he wants to leave. It's that he thinks he'll probably be snatched away sometime soon. Which would be a shame, really, as he and Sherlock get on like a very successful bit of arson.
--The Paradox Suite, by (AO3)wordstrings, (John/Sherlock)
===
"I could...have something. For the sake of argument."
"Oh, but that's different. If you have something, I want it too."
And this is what Sherlock is still struggling to comprehend, why that statement in particular, which was really a harmless fact, dangerous only to Sherlock even in theoretical potential and never to other people, why should this offhand remark cause John's elbow to finally hit the tea mug and send it onto the kitchen floor with a smash. It wasn't a potentially unwelcome declaration of undying possession, and it wasn't even approaching what he wanted to say that morning, which was You must swear on your life never to leave me and never to stop looking at me the way you looked at me this morning, like I'm some sort of extraterrestrial miracle, because if I have to go back to the way it was yesterday, without having you, I will get a very long, very sharp, very, very Japanese knife, and I will--no, he hadn't said that. Nothing of the kind. Only I want it too. Which ought to be fine.
--The Death and Resurrection of the English Language, by (AO3)wordstrings, (John/Sherlock)
===
"Thames water, though I'll have to confirm it," he says happily.
"Jesus, it's like a pederast outside a primary school," Anderson scoffs to John. "How can you bear it? We might as well be watching him have a wank."
"For the record, I enjoy watching him have a wank just as much," John snaps, finally losing the reins.
The heads of four med techs swivel. Lestrade covers what looked like the start of a highly satisfied smile with a cough into his sleeve. Sherlock remains entirely still, and in the back of his mind John wonders why. But he's still too furious to bother asking.
Anderson, meanwhile, seems to realize that he's the one making the scene.
"Right," he says nastily. "Well, I had the wrong end, then. No offense." He holds out his hand.
"I'm not shaking hands with you."
"But," Anderson stammers. "Oh, come off it, I was only taking the piss. Why not?"
"Because Sherlock doesn't like having his things touched," John growls, exiting the room as fast as he can.
--Entirely Covered in Your Invisible Name, by (AO3)wordstrings, (John/Sherlock)
===
"I'm still angry, you know," John says, biting Sherlock's fleshy lower lip. "Torture is not on, Sherlock Holmes. Whether it's to do with Moriarty or not, whether you're the William Shakespeare of Atrociously Skewed Morals or not."
"I thought I was the Stephen Hawking of Fuckery."
"You've earned a new title."
--New Days to Throw Your Chains Away, by (AO3)wordstrings, (John/Sherlock)