Fic: you are art, love (ACD, E)
Apr. 10th, 2022 10:22 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
happyeverafter72 posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
holmes_gendersTitle: you are art, love
Universe: ACD, 1950s AU
Rating: E
Characters/Pairings: Holmes/Watson
Word Count: 2205
Summary: Watson documents his life with Holmes with his photographs. He has long wanted Holmes to pose for him. Holmes has the perfect idea.
I sat on the floor, my back against the sofa, going through the photos I had recently had developed. For each one, I wrote a description on the back, then put them into my albums.
Mist over Regent’s Park.
Reading about bees over Sunday breakfast.
Smoking in a shaft of sunlight.
This last one I was very pleased with. It showed Holmes standing in a pool of light from our bow window. He was smoking a cigarette, the light hitting the smoke serving to obscure much of the background. He looked refined, and devastatingly handsome.
He lay on his front on the floor beside me, working on his scrapbook. I reached out to lightly touch the small of his back. He looked up and smiled at me.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Look at this one,” I said, holding out the photo to him.
“It’s good,” he responded. “I like the light.”
“So do I.” I paused. “I wish you would pose for me.”
I had expressed this wish to him before, but he seemed to be shy about it. What I really wanted was for him to feel beautiful. I made no secret of how stunning I thought he was, but I knew that he doubted it.
“Why?” he asked.
“Because you are art, love,” I replied. “I want you to see how beautiful you are.”
He blushed and ducked his head. “I will think about it,” he murmured.
I tipped his head up and leaned in to kiss him. He hummed happily, a gentle smile tugging at his lips.
“How are you getting on?” I asked when I pulled away.
“Very well,” he replied.
He showed me what he had been working on – pasted in newspaper cuttings, embellished with his own notes and little diagrams. The floor around him was littered with offcuts, lying around the pot of glue, the scissors and his pen. I enjoyed listening to him explaining his thoughts. My hand had returned to his back, where I rubbed small circles with my thumb. It was a precious moment of peace and connection.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was about a week later that Holmes brought up my wish again. We were at breakfast, enjoying these few moments together before I went to my practice and he to the labs at Bart’s.
“I have been thinking more about your wish for me to pose for you,” he said.
“Oh, yes?”
“Yes. I think I have an idea that you will like.”
I raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?”
He smiled teasingly. “You’ll have to wait and see, love.”
He refused to be drawn, so I had to be satisfied with that for the moment. I soon left to head to my surgery, pausing to steal a quick kiss. My mind kept drifting back to him during the day. I wondered what he had planned. His sense of style and his ideas were out of the ordinary, so I felt sure that it would be perfect.
I arrived home before him in the evening. I took the opportunity to have a shower. I spent a long time under the hot water, washing away the fatigues of the day. I dressed again in casual trousers and soft cotton shirt in the pullover style. I then went to lounge in the sitting room, waiting for my beloved to return.
By the time he arrived home, it was nearly time for dinner. Mrs Hudson soon brought our food in, and we passed the meal in talking over our days. Afterwards, we cuddled for a time.
“I’m going to get in the shower,” he announced eventually. “The, we can try some photography, if you still want to.”
I gave him a squeeze. “I would love to. You take your time, sweetheart.”
While he washed and prepared himself, I made sure that I was ready too. I got out my camera, checking that the film was fully wound on for the next picture. Then I arranged his chair, placing it so as to have the window for the background.
He was some time in the shower, but it was worth every second of the wait. He emerged from our bedroom looking utterly breath-taking. He wore matching knickers and a garter belt, in black and trimmed with lace. The suspenders held up fine black stockings. This accentuated his long, slim legs. The lace of the garter belt sat across the curve of his hips. He also wore a silk wrap, blue and decorated with tropical flowers.
“What do you think?” he asked, a touch of shyness in his tone.
“You take my breath away,” I replied. “I thought that we could use your chair.”
He blushed a little. “Okay.”
I took his hand and gave it a squeeze. “I want you to be comfortable, darling. You deserve to feel beautiful.”
He blushed again. “I shall do my best.”
He sat in his armchair and crossed his legs. It was clear that he was still feeling self-conscious as he tried his first few poses. I encouraged him and was rewarded by watching his confidence blossoming. His poses became more daring, and he took on a coquettish little smile. When he sat with his legs spread, his hands resting upon his thighs, I could see in his face that he had deduced what was going on in my mind. I took off my glasses, polished them on the hem of my shirt, and put them back on. I could see that drawing attention to them had produced the desired effect. They were only square lenses in wire frames, but Holmes loved them.
“Shall we try some photos in the bedroom?” I suggested.
His eyes lit up. “An excellent suggestion, my dear.”
He was trying to be prim to cover how flustered he was. To surprise him, I lunged towards him and kissed him. He giggled, wrapping his arms around me. After several moments, I pulled back from his lips and rested my forehead against his.
“Come on, baby,” I murmured. “Let’s finish the photos, then we can have some fun with that outfit.”
He blushed at the implication. “Yes, let’s.”
I took his hand, and we went into our bedroom. He sat upon the bed and propped himself up against the headboard. He bent one leg, planting his foot on the bed.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” I encouraged him. “Beautiful.”
We played around with several angles and poses, having him reclining back, and also lying on his side. When I finished, he was reclining with his legs a little spread, looking up at me from under his long lashes.
“Have you got all you wanted?” he asked.
“Yes, I have,” I replied.
“Then, would you come here, darling? I need to be touched.”
I chuckled and went to him. I straddled his thighs, leaning in to kiss him, my hands on his waist. We kissed softly at first, warming each other up. His lips were soft, his taste sweet. After some minutes, his hands migrated to my shoulders. He pushed my braces down my arms, then he began to pull at the hem of my shirt. We separated momentarily so that we could remove my shirt, then came back together with heightened intensity. He drew my lower lip between his and suckled on it lightly, drawing a moan from me. In answer, I moved my left hand to his chest, caressing his right nipple with my thumb, whilst I palmed him through his knickers with the other hand. He squirmed against me enticingly, encouraging me. His hands fumbled with the fastening of my trousers, before at last succeeding at releasing it. He skimmed one hand over my hip, then down the back of my trousers and pants to caress my arse. I left his lips to kiss his jaw, then his neck, nibbling and sucking below where his collar would sit to leave a mark. Little sighs and soft moans of pleasure left him, and he tangled his other hand in my hair, affection and encouragement at once.
“John,” he breathed, “will you take me?”
I pulled back to look at him. His eyes were glimmering with desire, mirroring my own feelings perfectly.
“Of course, my darling,” I murmured. “How shall I prepare you? Would you like my fingers, or my tongue?”
He shivered with anticipation. “I want your tongue, love. And I want to keep the stockings on.”
I chuckled and moved a hand to caress his thigh. “That sounds perfect.”
“Then, could you give me a moment?”
I moved off him so that he could unclip the suspenders. Then I pulled the knickers down, freeing his cock. He was half hard, flushed and gorgeous. He helped me to remove my remaining clothes, then he got to his hands and knees upon the bed. I knelt behind him. I pressed a kiss to the small of his back, then each of his buttocks. Then, using my hands, I parted his buttocks and applied my tongue to his hole. He shivered, a sighing moan escaping him. With a smile, I teased his rim before pushing my tongue inside. The taste of him there, in this most intimate of areas, was exquisite. I tongued him open with great relish, listening to the beautiful noises he made.
“Oh God. Fuck. Yes, John, yes,” he groaned.
I could feel him relaxing as I worked deeper. I loved how I could take him apart like this, having him switch off his great brain and surrender totally to pleasure. After long minutes, he was reduced to whimpering and whining, pushing back against me for more. I pulled away, caressing his arse with my thumbs.
“Lie down for me, baby,” I murmured. “On your back.”
He did so, and I took my place between his thighs. We were both hard, leaking and ready for each other. I reached for our jar of petroleum jelly. Before I could remove the lid, he grasped my wrist.
“Let me,” he said.
I handed him the jar, and he scooped out a generous amount. His long, thin fingers felt glorious around my prick as he slicked me.
“Oh, Holmes,” I breathed. “That’s perfect.”
He smiled, giving my prick another tug. “You are perfect, John.”
He wrapped his legs around my hips, all soft skin and smooth nylon. I positioned my tip at his entrance, then pushed slowly in. We both moaned softly at the feeling of me stretching him. When I was fully inside, I leaned down to kiss him. He opened his lips for me, allowing our tongues to caress in their well-known dance. After long moments of this, I began to move, gently rocking my hips into him. We sighed and moaned into each other’s mouths as we moved along together, our pleasure building. I pulled away from his lips to watch him. He was gorgeous in his abandon, his thrown back on the pillow and a beautiful blush reaching down to his chest.
“Touch yourself, love,” I murmured.
He grasped hold of his cock and began stroking himself. It was the most incredible sight, watching him work himself towards orgasm while I took my pleasure. I thrust harder and faster, seeking my release. His cock was flushed a rosy hue, and the way that his arse was stretched around me was obscene.
“John, I’m so close,” he gasped.
“I know, baby,” I replied. “Me too. Let go for me.”
“Fuck, John,” he whined, coming over his stomach and chest.
“Holmes,” I groaned, the sight and feeling of his orgasm bringing on my own.
We held onto each other as we trembled through our climaxes, then I lay down on top of him. He wrapped his long arms around me as our breaths and heart rates slowed. When I had recovered sufficiently, I nuzzled his neck. I felt rather than heard his chuckle. He angled his head to give me more room, so I continued with my soft kisses. When I brushed the angle of his jaw with my moustache, he giggled.
“I love you,” I murmured to his throat.
“I love you too,” he murmured back. “I think I’d like to clean up before we sleep.”
I laughed. “I think I would too. Come on, then.”
We went along to our little bathroom, where we cleaned each other carefully under the shower. Then we returned to bed. We lay on our sides, holding each other close.
“Where did you get the silk wrap from?” I asked.
He smiled. “It belonged to my grand-maman. She knew how I loved fine things, so she let me have it when I went to university.”
“It suits you,” I said. “It’s beautiful.”
“Thank you,” he murmured. “I should wear it more often. And dresses. I like dresses.”
I pressed a kiss to his forehead. “You can have all the dresses you want.”
He snuggled in closer. “I love you so much,” he whispered. I could hear how tired he was.
“I love you too,” I whispered back.
I removed my glasses and reached behind me to place them on the bedside table and switch off the lamp. Then I wrapped my arms around my Holmes again. He slept safe in my arms, where he belonged.
Universe: ACD, 1950s AU
Rating: E
Characters/Pairings: Holmes/Watson
Word Count: 2205
Summary: Watson documents his life with Holmes with his photographs. He has long wanted Holmes to pose for him. Holmes has the perfect idea.
I sat on the floor, my back against the sofa, going through the photos I had recently had developed. For each one, I wrote a description on the back, then put them into my albums.
Mist over Regent’s Park.
Reading about bees over Sunday breakfast.
Smoking in a shaft of sunlight.
This last one I was very pleased with. It showed Holmes standing in a pool of light from our bow window. He was smoking a cigarette, the light hitting the smoke serving to obscure much of the background. He looked refined, and devastatingly handsome.
He lay on his front on the floor beside me, working on his scrapbook. I reached out to lightly touch the small of his back. He looked up and smiled at me.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Look at this one,” I said, holding out the photo to him.
“It’s good,” he responded. “I like the light.”
“So do I.” I paused. “I wish you would pose for me.”
I had expressed this wish to him before, but he seemed to be shy about it. What I really wanted was for him to feel beautiful. I made no secret of how stunning I thought he was, but I knew that he doubted it.
“Why?” he asked.
“Because you are art, love,” I replied. “I want you to see how beautiful you are.”
He blushed and ducked his head. “I will think about it,” he murmured.
I tipped his head up and leaned in to kiss him. He hummed happily, a gentle smile tugging at his lips.
“How are you getting on?” I asked when I pulled away.
“Very well,” he replied.
He showed me what he had been working on – pasted in newspaper cuttings, embellished with his own notes and little diagrams. The floor around him was littered with offcuts, lying around the pot of glue, the scissors and his pen. I enjoyed listening to him explaining his thoughts. My hand had returned to his back, where I rubbed small circles with my thumb. It was a precious moment of peace and connection.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was about a week later that Holmes brought up my wish again. We were at breakfast, enjoying these few moments together before I went to my practice and he to the labs at Bart’s.
“I have been thinking more about your wish for me to pose for you,” he said.
“Oh, yes?”
“Yes. I think I have an idea that you will like.”
I raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?”
He smiled teasingly. “You’ll have to wait and see, love.”
He refused to be drawn, so I had to be satisfied with that for the moment. I soon left to head to my surgery, pausing to steal a quick kiss. My mind kept drifting back to him during the day. I wondered what he had planned. His sense of style and his ideas were out of the ordinary, so I felt sure that it would be perfect.
I arrived home before him in the evening. I took the opportunity to have a shower. I spent a long time under the hot water, washing away the fatigues of the day. I dressed again in casual trousers and soft cotton shirt in the pullover style. I then went to lounge in the sitting room, waiting for my beloved to return.
By the time he arrived home, it was nearly time for dinner. Mrs Hudson soon brought our food in, and we passed the meal in talking over our days. Afterwards, we cuddled for a time.
“I’m going to get in the shower,” he announced eventually. “The, we can try some photography, if you still want to.”
I gave him a squeeze. “I would love to. You take your time, sweetheart.”
While he washed and prepared himself, I made sure that I was ready too. I got out my camera, checking that the film was fully wound on for the next picture. Then I arranged his chair, placing it so as to have the window for the background.
He was some time in the shower, but it was worth every second of the wait. He emerged from our bedroom looking utterly breath-taking. He wore matching knickers and a garter belt, in black and trimmed with lace. The suspenders held up fine black stockings. This accentuated his long, slim legs. The lace of the garter belt sat across the curve of his hips. He also wore a silk wrap, blue and decorated with tropical flowers.
“What do you think?” he asked, a touch of shyness in his tone.
“You take my breath away,” I replied. “I thought that we could use your chair.”
He blushed a little. “Okay.”
I took his hand and gave it a squeeze. “I want you to be comfortable, darling. You deserve to feel beautiful.”
He blushed again. “I shall do my best.”
He sat in his armchair and crossed his legs. It was clear that he was still feeling self-conscious as he tried his first few poses. I encouraged him and was rewarded by watching his confidence blossoming. His poses became more daring, and he took on a coquettish little smile. When he sat with his legs spread, his hands resting upon his thighs, I could see in his face that he had deduced what was going on in my mind. I took off my glasses, polished them on the hem of my shirt, and put them back on. I could see that drawing attention to them had produced the desired effect. They were only square lenses in wire frames, but Holmes loved them.
“Shall we try some photos in the bedroom?” I suggested.
His eyes lit up. “An excellent suggestion, my dear.”
He was trying to be prim to cover how flustered he was. To surprise him, I lunged towards him and kissed him. He giggled, wrapping his arms around me. After several moments, I pulled back from his lips and rested my forehead against his.
“Come on, baby,” I murmured. “Let’s finish the photos, then we can have some fun with that outfit.”
He blushed at the implication. “Yes, let’s.”
I took his hand, and we went into our bedroom. He sat upon the bed and propped himself up against the headboard. He bent one leg, planting his foot on the bed.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” I encouraged him. “Beautiful.”
We played around with several angles and poses, having him reclining back, and also lying on his side. When I finished, he was reclining with his legs a little spread, looking up at me from under his long lashes.
“Have you got all you wanted?” he asked.
“Yes, I have,” I replied.
“Then, would you come here, darling? I need to be touched.”
I chuckled and went to him. I straddled his thighs, leaning in to kiss him, my hands on his waist. We kissed softly at first, warming each other up. His lips were soft, his taste sweet. After some minutes, his hands migrated to my shoulders. He pushed my braces down my arms, then he began to pull at the hem of my shirt. We separated momentarily so that we could remove my shirt, then came back together with heightened intensity. He drew my lower lip between his and suckled on it lightly, drawing a moan from me. In answer, I moved my left hand to his chest, caressing his right nipple with my thumb, whilst I palmed him through his knickers with the other hand. He squirmed against me enticingly, encouraging me. His hands fumbled with the fastening of my trousers, before at last succeeding at releasing it. He skimmed one hand over my hip, then down the back of my trousers and pants to caress my arse. I left his lips to kiss his jaw, then his neck, nibbling and sucking below where his collar would sit to leave a mark. Little sighs and soft moans of pleasure left him, and he tangled his other hand in my hair, affection and encouragement at once.
“John,” he breathed, “will you take me?”
I pulled back to look at him. His eyes were glimmering with desire, mirroring my own feelings perfectly.
“Of course, my darling,” I murmured. “How shall I prepare you? Would you like my fingers, or my tongue?”
He shivered with anticipation. “I want your tongue, love. And I want to keep the stockings on.”
I chuckled and moved a hand to caress his thigh. “That sounds perfect.”
“Then, could you give me a moment?”
I moved off him so that he could unclip the suspenders. Then I pulled the knickers down, freeing his cock. He was half hard, flushed and gorgeous. He helped me to remove my remaining clothes, then he got to his hands and knees upon the bed. I knelt behind him. I pressed a kiss to the small of his back, then each of his buttocks. Then, using my hands, I parted his buttocks and applied my tongue to his hole. He shivered, a sighing moan escaping him. With a smile, I teased his rim before pushing my tongue inside. The taste of him there, in this most intimate of areas, was exquisite. I tongued him open with great relish, listening to the beautiful noises he made.
“Oh God. Fuck. Yes, John, yes,” he groaned.
I could feel him relaxing as I worked deeper. I loved how I could take him apart like this, having him switch off his great brain and surrender totally to pleasure. After long minutes, he was reduced to whimpering and whining, pushing back against me for more. I pulled away, caressing his arse with my thumbs.
“Lie down for me, baby,” I murmured. “On your back.”
He did so, and I took my place between his thighs. We were both hard, leaking and ready for each other. I reached for our jar of petroleum jelly. Before I could remove the lid, he grasped my wrist.
“Let me,” he said.
I handed him the jar, and he scooped out a generous amount. His long, thin fingers felt glorious around my prick as he slicked me.
“Oh, Holmes,” I breathed. “That’s perfect.”
He smiled, giving my prick another tug. “You are perfect, John.”
He wrapped his legs around my hips, all soft skin and smooth nylon. I positioned my tip at his entrance, then pushed slowly in. We both moaned softly at the feeling of me stretching him. When I was fully inside, I leaned down to kiss him. He opened his lips for me, allowing our tongues to caress in their well-known dance. After long moments of this, I began to move, gently rocking my hips into him. We sighed and moaned into each other’s mouths as we moved along together, our pleasure building. I pulled away from his lips to watch him. He was gorgeous in his abandon, his thrown back on the pillow and a beautiful blush reaching down to his chest.
“Touch yourself, love,” I murmured.
He grasped hold of his cock and began stroking himself. It was the most incredible sight, watching him work himself towards orgasm while I took my pleasure. I thrust harder and faster, seeking my release. His cock was flushed a rosy hue, and the way that his arse was stretched around me was obscene.
“John, I’m so close,” he gasped.
“I know, baby,” I replied. “Me too. Let go for me.”
“Fuck, John,” he whined, coming over his stomach and chest.
“Holmes,” I groaned, the sight and feeling of his orgasm bringing on my own.
We held onto each other as we trembled through our climaxes, then I lay down on top of him. He wrapped his long arms around me as our breaths and heart rates slowed. When I had recovered sufficiently, I nuzzled his neck. I felt rather than heard his chuckle. He angled his head to give me more room, so I continued with my soft kisses. When I brushed the angle of his jaw with my moustache, he giggled.
“I love you,” I murmured to his throat.
“I love you too,” he murmured back. “I think I’d like to clean up before we sleep.”
I laughed. “I think I would too. Come on, then.”
We went along to our little bathroom, where we cleaned each other carefully under the shower. Then we returned to bed. We lay on our sides, holding each other close.
“Where did you get the silk wrap from?” I asked.
He smiled. “It belonged to my grand-maman. She knew how I loved fine things, so she let me have it when I went to university.”
“It suits you,” I said. “It’s beautiful.”
“Thank you,” he murmured. “I should wear it more often. And dresses. I like dresses.”
I pressed a kiss to his forehead. “You can have all the dresses you want.”
He snuggled in closer. “I love you so much,” he whispered. I could hear how tired he was.
“I love you too,” I whispered back.
I removed my glasses and reached behind me to place them on the bedside table and switch off the lamp. Then I wrapped my arms around my Holmes again. He slept safe in my arms, where he belonged.
