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darkemeraldsSherlock Holmes and the Curious Case of the Howl in the Night (Sherlock BBC) by sideris is about 8000 words of funny, sexy, Sherlock-and-John first time (well, the first few times) fic with the most incredibly spot-on character voices I think I've seen so far in this fandom.
And it's touching, and emotionally resonant. The scene where Sherlock applies his powers of deduction to John's body is absolutely gorgeous:
Pressing his palms together, [Sherlock] taps the forefingers of both hands thoughtfully against his lips and murmurs, "Now, let me think. What does this body want?"
"I'd've thought that was obvious," John says, lifting his hips from the bed on the off-chance Sherlock needs a clue. "Even to a genius."
It's as if he hadn't even spoken. Sherlock is gazing at his body, as if everything he needs to know is written there, in ways far more obvious than John's straining dick could ever be. He runs a finger down the centre of John's chest, and follows the the line down, from Adam's apple to sternum to navel. "Soft," he says, pressing his finger lightly into the flesh at John's waist. "This is a man who likes to eat."
John cringes. He's put on weight since he was invalided home, but he didn't think it showed too badly. Until now. "Are you saying I'm fat?"
"I'm saying," Sherlock replies, eyes still glued to John's stomach, "it's obvious you're a man who has appetites."
It's a lovely read.
sideris is about 8000 words of funny, sexy, Sherlock-and-John first time (well, the first few times) fic with the most incredibly spot-on character voices I think I've seen so far in this fandom.And it's touching, and emotionally resonant. The scene where Sherlock applies his powers of deduction to John's body is absolutely gorgeous:
Pressing his palms together, [Sherlock] taps the forefingers of both hands thoughtfully against his lips and murmurs, "Now, let me think. What does this body want?"
"I'd've thought that was obvious," John says, lifting his hips from the bed on the off-chance Sherlock needs a clue. "Even to a genius."
It's as if he hadn't even spoken. Sherlock is gazing at his body, as if everything he needs to know is written there, in ways far more obvious than John's straining dick could ever be. He runs a finger down the centre of John's chest, and follows the the line down, from Adam's apple to sternum to navel. "Soft," he says, pressing his finger lightly into the flesh at John's waist. "This is a man who likes to eat."
John cringes. He's put on weight since he was invalided home, but he didn't think it showed too badly. Until now. "Are you saying I'm fat?"
"I'm saying," Sherlock replies, eyes still glued to John's stomach, "it's obvious you're a man who has appetites."
It's a lovely read.
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