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emmagrant01Series: Missing and Alternate Scenes for A Cure for Boredom
Author: Emma Grant
Fandom/Pairing: Sherlock BBC, John/Sherlock, John/others
Index of all missing and alternate scenes
Alternate scene 2.1
Rating: NC-17
Length: 4770 words
Summary: Set during chapter 2. I've lost track at this point of who requested what, but I know many people wanted to see Sherlock playing Truth or Dare and his POV of this club scene. And the last part is entirely something I wanted to see. ;-)
Alternate link: On AO3
"When was your first kiss?" John asked.
Sherlock pressed his lips together for a moment. "This isn't about me. It's about you."
"I'm not asking to collect data. I'm asking because I'm interested."
"Why are you interested?"
John's sigh was almost a groan. "No idea. In fact, I'm becoming less interested by the second. Never mind."
He said nothing more. After a few minutes of silence, it seemed he'd decided to drop the subject, to Sherlock's relief. It wasn't a memory he particularly enjoyed thinking about.
It did, however, give him an idea. He plucked his laptop from its spot between the cushions and opened the lid, tapping his fingers against the sides of the keyboard impatiently as it slowly came back to life. After 3.5 excruciatingly long seconds the machine was awake, the browser window still open. He clicked on the eighth browser tab and the club's message board filled the screen. He navigated to the Tonight page and scrolled through the posts, eyes sliding over the words until he found a post that looked promising.
Posted by HoneyBadger311 at 16:47:
School uniforms TONIGHT! Let's meet on -1, the usual spot.
There were a handful of enthusiastic replies. Sherlock smiled.
"Want to order take-away?" John asked, standing. "I've a craving for Thai."
"Not hungry."
"Of course you aren't. But I'll get that curry you like, just in case you change your mind."
It was twenty minutes before Sherlock realized he'd gone, when he finally looked up from the message board to tell John what time they'd be leaving. He stared at the chair where John had been sitting and frowned.
Not that advance notice mattered, it seemed. John had said last night he was willing to participate in the experiment. Except for insisting on honesty (and Sherlock still wasn't convinced that withholding information that was never specifically asked for was equivalent to lying, but whatever), he hadn't qualified his participation at all. Sherlock assumed this meant that he was up for anything.
And if not, that was why they'd established a safeword.
*****
He had a plan for what he wanted to happen tonight; it was simply a matter of locating the right woman and negotiating terms.
He glanced sideways at John as they rode in the taxi. He looked nervous: hands clenched together, shifting in the seat every few seconds, his eyes focused out the taxi window but never landing on anything in particular, his jaw clenching and unclenching. He was clearly excited as well, though -- he hadn't hesitated to dress exactly as Sherlock had instructed, practically leaping to his feet when told it was time.
Sherlock looked out the window again and smiled.
John was silent as they walked to the club, apparently lost in thought. He should ask John later what he was thinking about prior to this encounter. Was it anticipation, fear, or something else altogether? That could be interesting data as well.
Just as they reached the door of the club John caught Sherlock's sleeve. "We need to talk."
Was he having second thoughts now? If so, why on earth would he wait until the last possible moment to voice them? It was infuriating. "I thought we discussed this last night."
"Honesty, remember? I need to know what…" John paused, clenched his jaw, and looked up at last. "What you expect of me."
Sherlock's eyes narrowed. "I don't understand."
"Right. So." John ran one hand through his hair and inhaled smoothly. He was clearly nervous, but there was something else too, something Sherlock couldn't quite put his finger on. "This is your experiment, so you're calling the shots. I'm fine with that, but if you have any… rules you want me to follow, now would be a good time to tell me."
Sherlock was momentarily stunned. Even though John was clearly unsettled about what might happen to him tonight, he was still concerned enough about the outcome of the experiment to ask for clarification on his role in it. It was nearly touching, but moreover, it was an extremely good point. They should indeed make the parameters clear before proceeding.
Sherlock nodded. "I'll need you to follow my precise instructions at all times, without question. If you're uncomfortable with what you're being asked to do or with anything that's happening, use the safeword. Otherwise I'll assume you consent. Our cover is that we're a couple; you should behave accordingly, but don't overdo it. You don't get to pick your partners; that's my job. You also don't get to choose what they do to you and when. It's important for the purposes of data collection that you aren't aware what's coming next, so I won't explain anything, even if you ask."
"Okay." John looked a bit overwhelmed.
"And no touching. They can touch you, but you will not touch them."
"Why not?"
Good question. He wasn't certain why that particular rule was so important to him, but he didn't want to dwell on it at the moment. He opened the door.
"I feel loads better now," John muttered as he walked through it. He didn't press the issue, to Sherlock's relief.
Once inside, John didn't wait for Sherlock to direct him; he crossed to the bar, ordered a pint, and started drinking it immediately.
Sherlock frowned and leaned in close enough to whisper, "I thought alcohol interfered with consent."
"Are you kidding? I need a drink after all of that." John looked away, visibly frustrated.
Sherlock studied him for a moment, confused. Hadn't they just clarified things completely? John knew what to expect, so why the annoyance at the situation? Perhaps it was nervousness and nothing more. At any rate, it seemed best not to press the issue. They could discuss it later.
Time to get to work. "Finish your drink and head downstairs, room five. I'll meet you there shortly."
He walked around the perimeter of the room, scanning the crowd, but saw no one dressed in an approximation of school uniforms. When he reached the bar again, John had already gone downstairs.
Ah, of course. The -1 must have meant the next level down.
Mycroft had mentioned that there was a public play area, but Sherlock hadn't fully considered the implications of that description until he was standing in the middle of it, surrounded by small groups of people engaged in various forms of sexual activity. It was an overwhelming amount of information to take in and he let it all flow over him for a moment. He'd catalogue it later, when there was time. For now, he had a particular goal in mind, and on the far side of the room tucked into an alcove, he thought he'd seen just what he was looking for.
He crossed to the bar first and ordered a drink -- a prop, mostly --and then made his way slowly through the room, finally stopping before a small group of men and women who were laughing uproariously over something one had just said.
He took a sip of brandy from his glass before smiling at the woman nearest him and leaning in close. "I couldn't find anything appropriate to wear. None of my old school things fit. Mind if I join you anyway?"
"Of course," she said, grinning up at him. "Here, sit." She gestured at the arm of the sofa she was sitting on.
He sat, noticing that a few other people were giving him appreciative looks as he did. He smiled.
"My turn!" one of the women said, drawing everyone's attention. "I choose… Alex. Truth or dare?"
Alex, a young man wearing a dark green blazer that was clearly far too small for him, buried his face in his hands. "Oh, God. Truth."
"Last time you sucked off a bloke. With details."
"What was it, ten minutes ago?" someone quipped, and Alex flashed two fingers at him.
"I knew you were going to ask something like that."
"Then you should've asked for a dare."
"No, because then you'd have dared me to do it rather than just talk about it." He rolled his eyes, his cheeks flushed. "All right, fine. It was… four months ago."
A chorus of oooohs emerged from the group.
"It's not something I do often, I know, but if I've had enough to drink and if the bloke is fit, well." He grinned and everyone laughed. "I'd gone to visit some friends in Ipswich and they took me out and introduced me to friends. One of their friends was this amazingly gorgeous bloke who flirted with me nonstop the entire night. He kept buying me drinks, even though I made it clear I wasn't into men." There were snickers at that, and he rolled his eyes. "Shut up, you know what I mean. Anyway, at the end of the evening he followed me back to the hotel -- or hell, maybe I invited him -- and he said I could fuck him if I sucked him off first. So I did. And then we… did. I was utterly pissed, so I don't remember much more about it."
Everyone burst into laughter at that, and Alex shrugged. "Sara, truth or dare."
Sara, a plump redhead with an infectious laugh, was dared to find three men who'd come to the group and show everyone their penises. She returned within a matter of minutes, to Sherlock's surprise, with four men, all of whom delighted in dropping their trousers to the raucous cheers of the group. Sara thanked them all with kisses, and enthusiastically dropped to her knees when the third man pretended to push her head down. His grin melted into an expression of bliss a moment later.
"Sara, it's still your turn!" a young woman with blonde braids said, and everyone laughed.
Sara waved a hand behind her in response, and the man whose dick she was enthusiastically sucking said, "Give her a minute. This won't take long, I promise. Ahhh… that's…"
Sherlock laughed along with the others, though his mind was spinning. He wondered how John would react to this, if he'd find it intriguing or arousing, or simply bizarre. The idea of such a public display of sexuality was something he hadn't entertained until now.
"Oh let's just skip her for now," the woman said with a sigh of mock exasperation. "Who hasn't had a turn?" She was very pretty and had clearly put the most effort into her costume that night. She also seemed to be the leader of the group.
Of course. Honeybadger311. Perfect.
"I'll go next," the woman sitting next to him said. He turned to see that she was staring right at him. "I think I'll pick you, gorgeous stranger."
He feigned embarrassment and laughed. "Sherlock, please."
"Truth or dare, Sherlock?"
That was an easy decision. "Truth."
"Hottest sex of your life."
"With details!" a few others chorused.
Sherlock laughed. "Oh, God, I knew it would be something like that. Wait, let me think." It couldn't be terribly outrageous or they'd never believe it. Something reasonable, but also fairly titillating and--- Ah. Of course.
"All right. I had a tremendous crush on a friend, but he was not only straight, but dating someone fairly seriously, so I didn't let myself think on it much."
"Oh my God," said the man who'd earlier dared Alex. "If this is going to be a story about you getting off with a straight bloke I'm going to come in my pants, I swear!" Everyone laughed.
Sherlock grinned at him in response. That was as good a direction as any for the story to go. "Well, he was dating this girl who was fairly adventurous, apparently, and one day he rang me up and said she wanted to have a threesome -- the two of them and me."
Another chorus of oooohs rang around the room.
"Wait, I want to hear this," Sara said, popping off the erection of the man she'd been fellating. He gaped at her for a moment before wrapping a hand around his penis and stroking, apparently having decided to finish the job himself. Oddly, no one paid him any attention. All eyes were focused on Sherlock.
He cleared his throat and forced himself to look away from the man tossing off. "So a couple of nights later I went to her flat. It was a bit weird at first, but after several glasses of wine, she took us both to her bedroom and we all undressed. She kissed him and then me, and it went on like that for a bit. My friend wouldn't even look at me at first, and I finally decided to get it over with. I sat down next to him on the bed and I kissed him, and he… well, he was a lot more enthusiastic after that." He grinned as everyone laughed.
"I think the request was for details," HoneyBadger311 said, winking at him. "That's not nearly enough."
He cringed as if embarrassed. "More details, right. So I kissed him and the next thing I knew his hand was on my prick and after that I assumed he was fine with anything. And he was." He raised his eyebrows suggestively to giggles from the group. "His girlfriend ended up just watching for a lot of it. I forgot she was there until she decided she wanted it to finish with him fucking her and me fucking him. And to my great surprise, he agreed."
"Oh my God, I can't stand it," the same young man said, falling dramatically into the lap of the woman next to him.
"This is totally Matt's favorite fantasy," Sara said. "He's not always such a spazz."
"Don't distract him!" the woman next to him said. "Go on, Sherlock."
Sherlock took a deep breath and nodded. "So that's what we did. It was awkward, but also incredibly hot, because… well." He laughed.
"And what happened after that?" someone asked.
"I sort of dated the two of them for a while, and when she finally moved on, it was just me and him." He grinned and looked up, his eyes sliding over their expectant faces. "And it still is, actually. We're still together."
"Oh my GOD," Matt said, flailing his arms now. "Seriously, fuck you, Sherlock. I fucking hate you for that life-ruining story." He grinned, which was Sherlock's only cue for how to interpret his words.
"And where's your boyfriend tonight?" HoneyBadger311 was definitely giving him a look of interest.
"Downstairs," he replied. "Waiting."
"For what?"
He smiled at her. "My turn, isn't it? Truth or dare."
She gave him a sly smile. "Dare."
Perfect. He pressed the palms of his hands together and considered for a moment. "I dare you to come downstairs with me and make him come just from kissing him."
The Greek chorus provided yet another oooooooh.
"Just kissing? Isn't that a little tame?"
"You don't think you can do it?" He raised an eyebrow.
Giggles erupted all around them.
"Oh, now you've done it!" Alex said. "Jenna never backs down from a challenge."
Jenna rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. "All right, fine. What room?"
"Five. Come down when you're ready."
*****
John leapt to his feet when Sherlock opened the door to room five. Sherlock closed it behind him and leaned back against it, suppressing the urge to grin at him. This was going to be fantastic.
"Well?" John asked after a long moment.
There was a knock on the door before Sherlock's grin managed to burst through. He pushed off the door and turned to open it. Jenna stood in the doorway, looking every bit the debauched fantasy schoolgirl. She winked at Sherlock before turning her attention to John, who was very nearly gaping at her. Her smile turned into a smirk.
She held out her purse and Sherlock took it, uncertain what he was supposed to do with it. He closed the door behind her and turned to see her drape her arms around John's shoulders.
"I was playing Truth or Dare just now, and do you know what your boyfriend dared me to do?"
John tried to respond, but only managed a few meaningless syllables. He shook his head and tried again. "Ah, no. No idea."
She pushed him down to the sofa before straddling his knees and climbing into his lap. John made a soft sound as she grasped his tie and pulled him forward with a sharp tug.
"He dared me to make you come from kissing alone. Do you think I can do it?"
The look on John's face was priceless: he was completely stunned. "I think you probably can, yeah."
She leaned forward then, her head blocking Sherlock's view of John's face. He didn't need to see his face to work out the effect she was having on him, though. His hands were clenched at his sides and he wriggled underneath her, as if trying to make contact.
Jenna was pressed rather tightly against him, Sherlock realized, and she wasn't sitting still. She was moving very slightly, grinding against John's (very likely) erection. Sherlock scowled. She was cheating already? Where was the fun in that?
Jenna pulled out of the kiss with a giggle and said something Sherlock couldn't quite make out, to which John replied, "No," rather breathlessly. She kissed him again, more intensely this time, moving against him in a way that John clearly appreciated.
Which was beside the point, of course. All that effort to set up a very specific experiment about erotic kissing, and here she had sidelined the entire thing with frottage. Had she even tried before grinding herself against him in the most obvious way?
Of course, it wasn't as if he'd had enough time to impress upon her the importance of following his precise instructions. It was, after all, a sex club, and most people were here with the goal of having orgasms. Why would they expect it to be otherwise? He'd have to set up these encounters much more carefully in the future. Rather than counting on being able to find someone once they arrived, he should make advance arrangements via the message board and be very clear about his expectations.
Jenna whimpered against John now and the two of them made no pretense of only kissing as they moved together. It went on for an excruciatingly long time. Sherlock felt annoyance rising in him steadily.
The movement became erratic suddenly and he realized he'd missed something. He watched more closely, noticing that Jenna had stilled. They weren't kissing anymore and John was thrusting up against her now, his breath ragged.
"Oh fuck oh god, that's… right there… fucking hell."
Sherlock felt a familiar twinge in his belly at the sound of John's voice on the edge of orgasm. He wished he could see John's face, but it was obscured by the back of Jenna's head. He gritted his teeth in annoyance.
They stopped moving at last, both panting. Jenna collapsed against John, who grinned at Sherlock over her shoulder.
Sherlock couldn't wipe the expression of annoyance off of his face before John caught it. His face fell and he sighed, which made Sherlock feel marginally better. At least he understood that much.
Jenna finally stood and straightened her clothes. She collected her purse from Sherlock and flashed him a smug grin on her way out the door. He grinned at her in return, but the expression fell completely away as soon as the door closed behind her.
"That wasn't what was supposed to happen," he said as turned back to John. He crossed to the sofa and dropped onto it beside him. "I told her she could only kiss you. That entire experiment was a waste of time."
John ran a hand over his face and seemed to be struggling not to grin. "Oh, I wouldn't say that."
"Yes, well. You clearly enjoyed it."
"Jesus, Sherlock, I'm not even sure what you wanted to happen is possible, but seriously? I just had an orgasm fully clothed. I'm fairly certain she had two. That's damn amazing and definitely good enough for your spreadsheet."
Sherlock gritted his teeth. "That's not the point."
"Of course not. Enlighten me here: what exactly is the point, if not to observe me having sex with various women and analyze… whatever it is you're analyzing?"
Oh, for -- of course, it wasn't as if he'd told John exactly what he was looking for. John had proved time and time again that he needed the important details spelled out for him explicitly. "It may just be sex for you, but it's science for me. This kind of data collection requires careful controls or the information is essentially worthless."
John smirked. "Ah, of course. I see the real problem now."
"Then enlighten me, won't you?"
"You can control me, but you can't control anyone else who walks through that door. It's just not possible. So you're going to have to find a way to deal with a certain amount of unpredictability in this experiment. And damn if I'm not going to enjoy watching that."
Well, yes. That was exactly the problem, wasn't it? Perhaps he should give John more credit. "That's completely perverse."
"Pot, kettle." John raised an eyebrow at him and laughed when Sherlock responded with a single finger.
At least John was happy, which meant he'd likely be willing to return to the club tomorrow night. Working out the protocols in an experiment like this was going to take a bit of time. He should have anticipated that from the start.
"Ready to go?"
John stretched and Sherlock's eyes were drawn to the stretch of white fabric over his belly. "Yeah. I think I need to find the loo first. I'm all… sticky now."
Sherlock smirked, but declined to comment further. There was plenty of time for that.
*****
October, 1991
"Holmes."
Sherlock looked up from behind the stacks of books that formed a protective wall around the table he'd commandeered in his favorite corner of the library. Cassie Briggs stood on the other side of the table and sneered at him, arms folded over her chest and under her breasts. Her pleated uniform skirt was two inches higher than regulation (she hadn't grown out of it; he could see the uneven stitch where she'd hemmed it short by hand) and her school tie was loosened to allow the top few buttons of her shirt to be undone. (Likely trying to get Mark Chantley's attention again. Pointless; he was gay.) Mousy brown ringlets (spiral perm, two months' growth) cascaded down over her shoulders, punctuated by a hand-wrapped multi-colored braid down the right side (family trip to the Caribbean prior to start of term). Her brown eyes narrowed at him.
"No," he said and looked back down at the notepad he was scribbling on.
"You don't even know what I was going to ask."
"Doesn't matter. The answer is no."
She made a sound of frustration and circled behind the table to stand next to him. He glanced at her sideways, wary. She plucked one of the books from a stack and flipped it open. "Introduction to Organic Chemistry. What the bloody hell? Don't you find this pointless and boring?"
"This conversation is pointless and boring, yes."
She flipped a few pages before closing the book, and dropped it in front of him with a thunk. "Aren't you the least bit curious about why I tracked you down on a Friday afternoon?"
He rolled his eyes and picked up the book, setting it carefully back in its original spot. "As I said, the answer is no. Now kindly bugger off. I'm busy."
She perched on the corner of the table and leaned back a bit, swinging her legs. White socks covered her calves up to the knee, and above that there was a shockingly long stretch of bare skin up to the hem of her skirt. He turned his attention back to the paper before him, but it was too late: she'd seen him looking.
"Not until I get what I came over here for." He could hear the smirk in her voice.
"Unless you came over here to discuss the classification of aliphatic compounds, you're wasting your breath."
Honestly, she hated him. She never missed a chance to insult him or pull a face at him, or any other number of mean things. She and her group of friends weren't the most unpleasant thing about this school, but they definitely ranked near the top of the list. He heard a giggling from across the library and saw her look pointedly over at its source. So that was it. She was here to torment him for her audience. As usual.
He clenched his jaw. "Just get it over with. I've a lot to get done before the library closes."
"If you insist." She hopped off the table and stepped even closer to him. He looked up, startled at her proximity, and then found himself frozen to the spot when she pushed his chair back and swung a leg over him, straddling him in the chair. Her bare thighs settled on his lap and she clasped his head in her hands, holding it firmly.
What the hell are you doing? he'd intended to say, but his words were cut off by her open mouth smashed against his. Her tongue wormed its way between his lips and flopped around inside his mouth, wriggling weirdly against his own. It was several seconds before he was able to process it as a kiss.
Oh, God.
She pulled away long enough to say, "Close your eyes, you're putting me off," before diving back in again tongue-first. It was wet and strange and sloppy and a bit disgusting, and to his utter horror he found he sort of liked it.
He closed his eyes and clenched the sides of the wooden chair, terrified to move his hands. She wriggled in his lap and he was suddenly aware of how close she was to his penis, which had, utterly against his wishes, decided to take an interest in the situation. He had no idea why, since he didn't like this girl in the slightest. There was nothing about her he found attractive. She repulsed him, actually.
Perhaps at this particular stage of his life, sexual attraction wasn't so much about whom he fancied as it was about proximity to compatible genitalia. It was something to consider. As was sexual attraction at all. He hadn't considered it, not even during quick wanks in the toilet stall in his dormitory, desperately hoping to get it done before he could think very hard about it, before someone might hear him and take the piss more than they usually did.
And then she pulled away again, pushing to her feet and glancing at her watch. "That was the longest fucking thirty seconds of my life."
He gaped at her, uncertain what to say to that. It wasn't as if girls just hopped into his lap for a snog on a regular basis, after all. She raised her eyebrows at him and he fought the urge to cover his groin. He didn't actually have an erection, thankfully, but it had been close.
She looked uncharacteristically thoughtful for a moment before a smug expression settled on her face. "That was your first kiss, wasn't it?"
He tried valiantly to shake his head, but he felt his cheeks warm before he could manage it. He looked away, back to the stacks of book in front of him.
"Well, then, you're welcome. I'd suggest you get a bit more practice at it, but we both know that's not going to happen anytime soon. Ta." With that she turned and walked away, crossing the library to where a group of her friends were whispering furiously amongst themselves. She looked back at him once when she reached them, laughing, and then they all left the library.
He exhaled and pressed his fingers over his eyes. If he hadn't hated her before, he certainly did now. He buried himself in his books, forcing all thoughts of girls and lips and tongues out of his mind. It wasn't important. He wouldn't let it bother him. He was above it. All of it.
*****
Thanks so much for your comments! I really appreciate the support and enthusiasm.
If you have any particular requests for scenes you'd like to see, feel free to let me know. I have a feeling I'll get to them all eventually. ;-)
Go to the next scene
Author: Emma Grant
Fandom/Pairing: Sherlock BBC, John/Sherlock, John/others
Index of all missing and alternate scenes
Alternate scene 2.1
Rating: NC-17
Length: 4770 words
Summary: Set during chapter 2. I've lost track at this point of who requested what, but I know many people wanted to see Sherlock playing Truth or Dare and his POV of this club scene. And the last part is entirely something I wanted to see. ;-)
Alternate link: On AO3
"When was your first kiss?" John asked.
Sherlock pressed his lips together for a moment. "This isn't about me. It's about you."
"I'm not asking to collect data. I'm asking because I'm interested."
"Why are you interested?"
John's sigh was almost a groan. "No idea. In fact, I'm becoming less interested by the second. Never mind."
He said nothing more. After a few minutes of silence, it seemed he'd decided to drop the subject, to Sherlock's relief. It wasn't a memory he particularly enjoyed thinking about.
It did, however, give him an idea. He plucked his laptop from its spot between the cushions and opened the lid, tapping his fingers against the sides of the keyboard impatiently as it slowly came back to life. After 3.5 excruciatingly long seconds the machine was awake, the browser window still open. He clicked on the eighth browser tab and the club's message board filled the screen. He navigated to the Tonight page and scrolled through the posts, eyes sliding over the words until he found a post that looked promising.
Posted by HoneyBadger311 at 16:47:
School uniforms TONIGHT! Let's meet on -1, the usual spot.
There were a handful of enthusiastic replies. Sherlock smiled.
"Want to order take-away?" John asked, standing. "I've a craving for Thai."
"Not hungry."
"Of course you aren't. But I'll get that curry you like, just in case you change your mind."
It was twenty minutes before Sherlock realized he'd gone, when he finally looked up from the message board to tell John what time they'd be leaving. He stared at the chair where John had been sitting and frowned.
Not that advance notice mattered, it seemed. John had said last night he was willing to participate in the experiment. Except for insisting on honesty (and Sherlock still wasn't convinced that withholding information that was never specifically asked for was equivalent to lying, but whatever), he hadn't qualified his participation at all. Sherlock assumed this meant that he was up for anything.
And if not, that was why they'd established a safeword.
*****
He had a plan for what he wanted to happen tonight; it was simply a matter of locating the right woman and negotiating terms.
He glanced sideways at John as they rode in the taxi. He looked nervous: hands clenched together, shifting in the seat every few seconds, his eyes focused out the taxi window but never landing on anything in particular, his jaw clenching and unclenching. He was clearly excited as well, though -- he hadn't hesitated to dress exactly as Sherlock had instructed, practically leaping to his feet when told it was time.
Sherlock looked out the window again and smiled.
John was silent as they walked to the club, apparently lost in thought. He should ask John later what he was thinking about prior to this encounter. Was it anticipation, fear, or something else altogether? That could be interesting data as well.
Just as they reached the door of the club John caught Sherlock's sleeve. "We need to talk."
Was he having second thoughts now? If so, why on earth would he wait until the last possible moment to voice them? It was infuriating. "I thought we discussed this last night."
"Honesty, remember? I need to know what…" John paused, clenched his jaw, and looked up at last. "What you expect of me."
Sherlock's eyes narrowed. "I don't understand."
"Right. So." John ran one hand through his hair and inhaled smoothly. He was clearly nervous, but there was something else too, something Sherlock couldn't quite put his finger on. "This is your experiment, so you're calling the shots. I'm fine with that, but if you have any… rules you want me to follow, now would be a good time to tell me."
Sherlock was momentarily stunned. Even though John was clearly unsettled about what might happen to him tonight, he was still concerned enough about the outcome of the experiment to ask for clarification on his role in it. It was nearly touching, but moreover, it was an extremely good point. They should indeed make the parameters clear before proceeding.
Sherlock nodded. "I'll need you to follow my precise instructions at all times, without question. If you're uncomfortable with what you're being asked to do or with anything that's happening, use the safeword. Otherwise I'll assume you consent. Our cover is that we're a couple; you should behave accordingly, but don't overdo it. You don't get to pick your partners; that's my job. You also don't get to choose what they do to you and when. It's important for the purposes of data collection that you aren't aware what's coming next, so I won't explain anything, even if you ask."
"Okay." John looked a bit overwhelmed.
"And no touching. They can touch you, but you will not touch them."
"Why not?"
Good question. He wasn't certain why that particular rule was so important to him, but he didn't want to dwell on it at the moment. He opened the door.
"I feel loads better now," John muttered as he walked through it. He didn't press the issue, to Sherlock's relief.
Once inside, John didn't wait for Sherlock to direct him; he crossed to the bar, ordered a pint, and started drinking it immediately.
Sherlock frowned and leaned in close enough to whisper, "I thought alcohol interfered with consent."
"Are you kidding? I need a drink after all of that." John looked away, visibly frustrated.
Sherlock studied him for a moment, confused. Hadn't they just clarified things completely? John knew what to expect, so why the annoyance at the situation? Perhaps it was nervousness and nothing more. At any rate, it seemed best not to press the issue. They could discuss it later.
Time to get to work. "Finish your drink and head downstairs, room five. I'll meet you there shortly."
He walked around the perimeter of the room, scanning the crowd, but saw no one dressed in an approximation of school uniforms. When he reached the bar again, John had already gone downstairs.
Ah, of course. The -1 must have meant the next level down.
Mycroft had mentioned that there was a public play area, but Sherlock hadn't fully considered the implications of that description until he was standing in the middle of it, surrounded by small groups of people engaged in various forms of sexual activity. It was an overwhelming amount of information to take in and he let it all flow over him for a moment. He'd catalogue it later, when there was time. For now, he had a particular goal in mind, and on the far side of the room tucked into an alcove, he thought he'd seen just what he was looking for.
He crossed to the bar first and ordered a drink -- a prop, mostly --and then made his way slowly through the room, finally stopping before a small group of men and women who were laughing uproariously over something one had just said.
He took a sip of brandy from his glass before smiling at the woman nearest him and leaning in close. "I couldn't find anything appropriate to wear. None of my old school things fit. Mind if I join you anyway?"
"Of course," she said, grinning up at him. "Here, sit." She gestured at the arm of the sofa she was sitting on.
He sat, noticing that a few other people were giving him appreciative looks as he did. He smiled.
"My turn!" one of the women said, drawing everyone's attention. "I choose… Alex. Truth or dare?"
Alex, a young man wearing a dark green blazer that was clearly far too small for him, buried his face in his hands. "Oh, God. Truth."
"Last time you sucked off a bloke. With details."
"What was it, ten minutes ago?" someone quipped, and Alex flashed two fingers at him.
"I knew you were going to ask something like that."
"Then you should've asked for a dare."
"No, because then you'd have dared me to do it rather than just talk about it." He rolled his eyes, his cheeks flushed. "All right, fine. It was… four months ago."
A chorus of oooohs emerged from the group.
"It's not something I do often, I know, but if I've had enough to drink and if the bloke is fit, well." He grinned and everyone laughed. "I'd gone to visit some friends in Ipswich and they took me out and introduced me to friends. One of their friends was this amazingly gorgeous bloke who flirted with me nonstop the entire night. He kept buying me drinks, even though I made it clear I wasn't into men." There were snickers at that, and he rolled his eyes. "Shut up, you know what I mean. Anyway, at the end of the evening he followed me back to the hotel -- or hell, maybe I invited him -- and he said I could fuck him if I sucked him off first. So I did. And then we… did. I was utterly pissed, so I don't remember much more about it."
Everyone burst into laughter at that, and Alex shrugged. "Sara, truth or dare."
Sara, a plump redhead with an infectious laugh, was dared to find three men who'd come to the group and show everyone their penises. She returned within a matter of minutes, to Sherlock's surprise, with four men, all of whom delighted in dropping their trousers to the raucous cheers of the group. Sara thanked them all with kisses, and enthusiastically dropped to her knees when the third man pretended to push her head down. His grin melted into an expression of bliss a moment later.
"Sara, it's still your turn!" a young woman with blonde braids said, and everyone laughed.
Sara waved a hand behind her in response, and the man whose dick she was enthusiastically sucking said, "Give her a minute. This won't take long, I promise. Ahhh… that's…"
Sherlock laughed along with the others, though his mind was spinning. He wondered how John would react to this, if he'd find it intriguing or arousing, or simply bizarre. The idea of such a public display of sexuality was something he hadn't entertained until now.
"Oh let's just skip her for now," the woman said with a sigh of mock exasperation. "Who hasn't had a turn?" She was very pretty and had clearly put the most effort into her costume that night. She also seemed to be the leader of the group.
Of course. Honeybadger311. Perfect.
"I'll go next," the woman sitting next to him said. He turned to see that she was staring right at him. "I think I'll pick you, gorgeous stranger."
He feigned embarrassment and laughed. "Sherlock, please."
"Truth or dare, Sherlock?"
That was an easy decision. "Truth."
"Hottest sex of your life."
"With details!" a few others chorused.
Sherlock laughed. "Oh, God, I knew it would be something like that. Wait, let me think." It couldn't be terribly outrageous or they'd never believe it. Something reasonable, but also fairly titillating and--- Ah. Of course.
"All right. I had a tremendous crush on a friend, but he was not only straight, but dating someone fairly seriously, so I didn't let myself think on it much."
"Oh my God," said the man who'd earlier dared Alex. "If this is going to be a story about you getting off with a straight bloke I'm going to come in my pants, I swear!" Everyone laughed.
Sherlock grinned at him in response. That was as good a direction as any for the story to go. "Well, he was dating this girl who was fairly adventurous, apparently, and one day he rang me up and said she wanted to have a threesome -- the two of them and me."
Another chorus of oooohs rang around the room.
"Wait, I want to hear this," Sara said, popping off the erection of the man she'd been fellating. He gaped at her for a moment before wrapping a hand around his penis and stroking, apparently having decided to finish the job himself. Oddly, no one paid him any attention. All eyes were focused on Sherlock.
He cleared his throat and forced himself to look away from the man tossing off. "So a couple of nights later I went to her flat. It was a bit weird at first, but after several glasses of wine, she took us both to her bedroom and we all undressed. She kissed him and then me, and it went on like that for a bit. My friend wouldn't even look at me at first, and I finally decided to get it over with. I sat down next to him on the bed and I kissed him, and he… well, he was a lot more enthusiastic after that." He grinned as everyone laughed.
"I think the request was for details," HoneyBadger311 said, winking at him. "That's not nearly enough."
He cringed as if embarrassed. "More details, right. So I kissed him and the next thing I knew his hand was on my prick and after that I assumed he was fine with anything. And he was." He raised his eyebrows suggestively to giggles from the group. "His girlfriend ended up just watching for a lot of it. I forgot she was there until she decided she wanted it to finish with him fucking her and me fucking him. And to my great surprise, he agreed."
"Oh my God, I can't stand it," the same young man said, falling dramatically into the lap of the woman next to him.
"This is totally Matt's favorite fantasy," Sara said. "He's not always such a spazz."
"Don't distract him!" the woman next to him said. "Go on, Sherlock."
Sherlock took a deep breath and nodded. "So that's what we did. It was awkward, but also incredibly hot, because… well." He laughed.
"And what happened after that?" someone asked.
"I sort of dated the two of them for a while, and when she finally moved on, it was just me and him." He grinned and looked up, his eyes sliding over their expectant faces. "And it still is, actually. We're still together."
"Oh my GOD," Matt said, flailing his arms now. "Seriously, fuck you, Sherlock. I fucking hate you for that life-ruining story." He grinned, which was Sherlock's only cue for how to interpret his words.
"And where's your boyfriend tonight?" HoneyBadger311 was definitely giving him a look of interest.
"Downstairs," he replied. "Waiting."
"For what?"
He smiled at her. "My turn, isn't it? Truth or dare."
She gave him a sly smile. "Dare."
Perfect. He pressed the palms of his hands together and considered for a moment. "I dare you to come downstairs with me and make him come just from kissing him."
The Greek chorus provided yet another oooooooh.
"Just kissing? Isn't that a little tame?"
"You don't think you can do it?" He raised an eyebrow.
Giggles erupted all around them.
"Oh, now you've done it!" Alex said. "Jenna never backs down from a challenge."
Jenna rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. "All right, fine. What room?"
"Five. Come down when you're ready."
*****
John leapt to his feet when Sherlock opened the door to room five. Sherlock closed it behind him and leaned back against it, suppressing the urge to grin at him. This was going to be fantastic.
"Well?" John asked after a long moment.
There was a knock on the door before Sherlock's grin managed to burst through. He pushed off the door and turned to open it. Jenna stood in the doorway, looking every bit the debauched fantasy schoolgirl. She winked at Sherlock before turning her attention to John, who was very nearly gaping at her. Her smile turned into a smirk.
She held out her purse and Sherlock took it, uncertain what he was supposed to do with it. He closed the door behind her and turned to see her drape her arms around John's shoulders.
"I was playing Truth or Dare just now, and do you know what your boyfriend dared me to do?"
John tried to respond, but only managed a few meaningless syllables. He shook his head and tried again. "Ah, no. No idea."
She pushed him down to the sofa before straddling his knees and climbing into his lap. John made a soft sound as she grasped his tie and pulled him forward with a sharp tug.
"He dared me to make you come from kissing alone. Do you think I can do it?"
The look on John's face was priceless: he was completely stunned. "I think you probably can, yeah."
She leaned forward then, her head blocking Sherlock's view of John's face. He didn't need to see his face to work out the effect she was having on him, though. His hands were clenched at his sides and he wriggled underneath her, as if trying to make contact.
Jenna was pressed rather tightly against him, Sherlock realized, and she wasn't sitting still. She was moving very slightly, grinding against John's (very likely) erection. Sherlock scowled. She was cheating already? Where was the fun in that?
Jenna pulled out of the kiss with a giggle and said something Sherlock couldn't quite make out, to which John replied, "No," rather breathlessly. She kissed him again, more intensely this time, moving against him in a way that John clearly appreciated.
Which was beside the point, of course. All that effort to set up a very specific experiment about erotic kissing, and here she had sidelined the entire thing with frottage. Had she even tried before grinding herself against him in the most obvious way?
Of course, it wasn't as if he'd had enough time to impress upon her the importance of following his precise instructions. It was, after all, a sex club, and most people were here with the goal of having orgasms. Why would they expect it to be otherwise? He'd have to set up these encounters much more carefully in the future. Rather than counting on being able to find someone once they arrived, he should make advance arrangements via the message board and be very clear about his expectations.
Jenna whimpered against John now and the two of them made no pretense of only kissing as they moved together. It went on for an excruciatingly long time. Sherlock felt annoyance rising in him steadily.
The movement became erratic suddenly and he realized he'd missed something. He watched more closely, noticing that Jenna had stilled. They weren't kissing anymore and John was thrusting up against her now, his breath ragged.
"Oh fuck oh god, that's… right there… fucking hell."
Sherlock felt a familiar twinge in his belly at the sound of John's voice on the edge of orgasm. He wished he could see John's face, but it was obscured by the back of Jenna's head. He gritted his teeth in annoyance.
They stopped moving at last, both panting. Jenna collapsed against John, who grinned at Sherlock over her shoulder.
Sherlock couldn't wipe the expression of annoyance off of his face before John caught it. His face fell and he sighed, which made Sherlock feel marginally better. At least he understood that much.
Jenna finally stood and straightened her clothes. She collected her purse from Sherlock and flashed him a smug grin on her way out the door. He grinned at her in return, but the expression fell completely away as soon as the door closed behind her.
"That wasn't what was supposed to happen," he said as turned back to John. He crossed to the sofa and dropped onto it beside him. "I told her she could only kiss you. That entire experiment was a waste of time."
John ran a hand over his face and seemed to be struggling not to grin. "Oh, I wouldn't say that."
"Yes, well. You clearly enjoyed it."
"Jesus, Sherlock, I'm not even sure what you wanted to happen is possible, but seriously? I just had an orgasm fully clothed. I'm fairly certain she had two. That's damn amazing and definitely good enough for your spreadsheet."
Sherlock gritted his teeth. "That's not the point."
"Of course not. Enlighten me here: what exactly is the point, if not to observe me having sex with various women and analyze… whatever it is you're analyzing?"
Oh, for -- of course, it wasn't as if he'd told John exactly what he was looking for. John had proved time and time again that he needed the important details spelled out for him explicitly. "It may just be sex for you, but it's science for me. This kind of data collection requires careful controls or the information is essentially worthless."
John smirked. "Ah, of course. I see the real problem now."
"Then enlighten me, won't you?"
"You can control me, but you can't control anyone else who walks through that door. It's just not possible. So you're going to have to find a way to deal with a certain amount of unpredictability in this experiment. And damn if I'm not going to enjoy watching that."
Well, yes. That was exactly the problem, wasn't it? Perhaps he should give John more credit. "That's completely perverse."
"Pot, kettle." John raised an eyebrow at him and laughed when Sherlock responded with a single finger.
At least John was happy, which meant he'd likely be willing to return to the club tomorrow night. Working out the protocols in an experiment like this was going to take a bit of time. He should have anticipated that from the start.
"Ready to go?"
John stretched and Sherlock's eyes were drawn to the stretch of white fabric over his belly. "Yeah. I think I need to find the loo first. I'm all… sticky now."
Sherlock smirked, but declined to comment further. There was plenty of time for that.
*****
October, 1991
"Holmes."
Sherlock looked up from behind the stacks of books that formed a protective wall around the table he'd commandeered in his favorite corner of the library. Cassie Briggs stood on the other side of the table and sneered at him, arms folded over her chest and under her breasts. Her pleated uniform skirt was two inches higher than regulation (she hadn't grown out of it; he could see the uneven stitch where she'd hemmed it short by hand) and her school tie was loosened to allow the top few buttons of her shirt to be undone. (Likely trying to get Mark Chantley's attention again. Pointless; he was gay.) Mousy brown ringlets (spiral perm, two months' growth) cascaded down over her shoulders, punctuated by a hand-wrapped multi-colored braid down the right side (family trip to the Caribbean prior to start of term). Her brown eyes narrowed at him.
"No," he said and looked back down at the notepad he was scribbling on.
"You don't even know what I was going to ask."
"Doesn't matter. The answer is no."
She made a sound of frustration and circled behind the table to stand next to him. He glanced at her sideways, wary. She plucked one of the books from a stack and flipped it open. "Introduction to Organic Chemistry. What the bloody hell? Don't you find this pointless and boring?"
"This conversation is pointless and boring, yes."
She flipped a few pages before closing the book, and dropped it in front of him with a thunk. "Aren't you the least bit curious about why I tracked you down on a Friday afternoon?"
He rolled his eyes and picked up the book, setting it carefully back in its original spot. "As I said, the answer is no. Now kindly bugger off. I'm busy."
She perched on the corner of the table and leaned back a bit, swinging her legs. White socks covered her calves up to the knee, and above that there was a shockingly long stretch of bare skin up to the hem of her skirt. He turned his attention back to the paper before him, but it was too late: she'd seen him looking.
"Not until I get what I came over here for." He could hear the smirk in her voice.
"Unless you came over here to discuss the classification of aliphatic compounds, you're wasting your breath."
Honestly, she hated him. She never missed a chance to insult him or pull a face at him, or any other number of mean things. She and her group of friends weren't the most unpleasant thing about this school, but they definitely ranked near the top of the list. He heard a giggling from across the library and saw her look pointedly over at its source. So that was it. She was here to torment him for her audience. As usual.
He clenched his jaw. "Just get it over with. I've a lot to get done before the library closes."
"If you insist." She hopped off the table and stepped even closer to him. He looked up, startled at her proximity, and then found himself frozen to the spot when she pushed his chair back and swung a leg over him, straddling him in the chair. Her bare thighs settled on his lap and she clasped his head in her hands, holding it firmly.
What the hell are you doing? he'd intended to say, but his words were cut off by her open mouth smashed against his. Her tongue wormed its way between his lips and flopped around inside his mouth, wriggling weirdly against his own. It was several seconds before he was able to process it as a kiss.
Oh, God.
She pulled away long enough to say, "Close your eyes, you're putting me off," before diving back in again tongue-first. It was wet and strange and sloppy and a bit disgusting, and to his utter horror he found he sort of liked it.
He closed his eyes and clenched the sides of the wooden chair, terrified to move his hands. She wriggled in his lap and he was suddenly aware of how close she was to his penis, which had, utterly against his wishes, decided to take an interest in the situation. He had no idea why, since he didn't like this girl in the slightest. There was nothing about her he found attractive. She repulsed him, actually.
Perhaps at this particular stage of his life, sexual attraction wasn't so much about whom he fancied as it was about proximity to compatible genitalia. It was something to consider. As was sexual attraction at all. He hadn't considered it, not even during quick wanks in the toilet stall in his dormitory, desperately hoping to get it done before he could think very hard about it, before someone might hear him and take the piss more than they usually did.
And then she pulled away again, pushing to her feet and glancing at her watch. "That was the longest fucking thirty seconds of my life."
He gaped at her, uncertain what to say to that. It wasn't as if girls just hopped into his lap for a snog on a regular basis, after all. She raised her eyebrows at him and he fought the urge to cover his groin. He didn't actually have an erection, thankfully, but it had been close.
She looked uncharacteristically thoughtful for a moment before a smug expression settled on her face. "That was your first kiss, wasn't it?"
He tried valiantly to shake his head, but he felt his cheeks warm before he could manage it. He looked away, back to the stacks of book in front of him.
"Well, then, you're welcome. I'd suggest you get a bit more practice at it, but we both know that's not going to happen anytime soon. Ta." With that she turned and walked away, crossing the library to where a group of her friends were whispering furiously amongst themselves. She looked back at him once when she reached them, laughing, and then they all left the library.
He exhaled and pressed his fingers over his eyes. If he hadn't hated her before, he certainly did now. He buried himself in his books, forcing all thoughts of girls and lips and tongues out of his mind. It wasn't important. He wouldn't let it bother him. He was above it. All of it.
*****
Thanks so much for your comments! I really appreciate the support and enthusiasm.
If you have any particular requests for scenes you'd like to see, feel free to let me know. I have a feeling I'll get to them all eventually. ;-)
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no subject
Date: 2012-05-02 09:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-05-03 04:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-05-03 05:47 pm (UTC)This was a more cerebral chapter as we got to see even more inside Sherlock's mind as he planned and interacted with other people and also reflected on his past. I adored seeing him operate and adapt his behavior to others to get what he needed.
But I also loved getting a glimpse of how hard it is for him to process the responses of others and how he really seeks out contextual clues to interpret and determine behavior. This was illustrated beautifully here: He grinned, which was Sherlock's only cue for how to interpret his words. That Sherlock could not pick up the implied envy and appreciation behind Matt's comment made my heart clench for him.
And no wonder he was wary of whether Matt meant his comment literally, what with his past and his tendency to elicit anger in others based on his often unfiltered or abrasive speech style. He was no doubt the butt of jokes and innuendo when he was younger and before he built up that calculating and intimidating bravado that only a very few people (especially John) can see through.
And then we get to see an example of this play out in his teen years when we flashback to his first, awful kiss. It makes me so angry that this first experience was something taken from him with such malice and that it served to alienate him further and drive him to shut down that sexually curious part of himself.
I just want to reach through the screen and reassure him that the best is yet to come.
no subject
Date: 2012-05-04 03:57 pm (UTC)I'm so glad that's coming across here because it's so hard to find ways to write that!
It makes me so angry that this first experience was something taken from him with such malice and that it served to alienate him further and drive him to shut down that sexually curious part of himself.
That's kind of my head canon for Sherlock, that he had some early unpleasant sexual experiences that, combined with his difficulty dealing with people on a social level under normal circumstances, put him off the idea of sex with other people completely. Just not worth the time and effort, basically. The other possibility that I like reading in fic is when he occasionally goes on casual sex binges, never the same person twice, playing characters to get what he wants from them. That wasn't going to work in this story, but that's a version of Sherlock I do enjoy reading, I have to say. ;-)
I just want to reach through the screen and reassure him that the best is yet to come.
I know, right? *pets him*
Thank you!
no subject
Date: 2012-05-02 09:36 pm (UTC)You're making me remember that through the (not even five months!) whirlwind romance I've had with this show, it was Sherlock I loved first, and will always love best.
I adored that Sherlock is so focused on John that he can be surrounded by people having public sex and just file it all away for later analysis, like a cow chewing cud. (Sherlock, I can see you rolling your eyes at that simile! Yes, yes, of course your mental processes are more elegant than that.) That was a lovely note, him forcing his eyes away from the masturbating man.
And his fantasy was so sweet. And hot. And sad. Oh, that's my heart going pitter-pat with the longing of it all, that this gorgeous brilliant man hasn't had anything he could call the hottest sex of his life, unless he's counting the wank on the sofa with John, and can he count that if John doesn't seem to be counting it?
no subject
Date: 2012-05-03 04:32 am (UTC)I know, right?
wondering who, if anyone, is there for him through this.
Well, I think I know who you have in mind. ;-) But in my mind, this is all about him and John finding that in each other. One of the reasons I really wanted to write these was to make myself really stew over where Sherlock is coming from in this fic. It's definitely working!
this gorgeous brilliant man hasn't had anything he could call the hottest sex of his life
Yes, exactly. And he will, of course, but right now there's not much he's done that he'd consider all that hot, except for that wank on the sofa. And it wasn't like he was going to tell them about that, right?
Thanks, as always! *smooch*
no subject
Date: 2012-05-03 04:36 am (UTC)Oh god, I didn't even think of that. No, your story makes it quite clear that Sherlock isn't in touch with him during this at all. I think I just didn't want to face the starkness that he had nobody. I thought things were difficult for him while I was reading the original story but now we're starting to see it. Ouch. <-- in a delicious way
no subject
Date: 2012-05-03 04:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-05-02 10:18 pm (UTC)And his first kiss. ;_; Bit like mine, actually, though it wasn't quite that bad. Still on a dare, but thank God the person didn't actually dislike me and told me later that they didn't mind doing it. Still, mortifying, and I utterly understand Sherlock not wanting to talk about it with John. Which is interesting because in John's POV I kind of scoffed at that and went "God, he's still not sharing anything, gjskdljfk".
*squishes Sherlock*
no subject
Date: 2012-05-03 04:37 am (UTC)Yes, exactly! And his fantasy is actually a slight nod to a fic I read recently in which that is the plot, basically. Though I'm putting my own spin on it, since it didn't quite work out quite like I wanted it to.
Bit like mine, actually
Oh, sweetie! *hugs* I'm a bit of a romantic in that I think everyone should have a special and memorable first kiss experience, and that it should at the very least be a situation in which both people are attracted to each other and want it to happen. I really view this as sort of a sexual assault on him, in a lot of ways.
in John's POV I kind of scoffed at that and went "God, he's still not sharing anything, gjskdljfk".
I'm really enjoying seeing that reaction to these scenes, because it tells me that the original fic was working on a level I was really shooting for.
Thank you so much, as always!
no subject
Date: 2012-05-02 11:20 pm (UTC)I never imagined Sherlock would invent such an elaborate story for his and John's background! I love how he doesn't even consider for a split second telling any sort of truth. Lying on the fly is just all a part of the game. Of course, WE know how revealing his story actually is. :) And I appreciated the little detail of Sherlock's inability to hear sarcasm, and how he had to process that man's smile before knowing how to respond. It's fascinating how he's set up methods of communication that come naturally to most people, and it's one of the things that sells your Sherlock POV for me.
no subject
Date: 2012-05-02 11:35 pm (UTC)Yes, yes! So sophisticated! The way Sherlock is so puzzled when John has these inexplicable reactions after Sherlock has been as straightforward as he possibly could be. That wonderful, wonderful combination of the amazing actor Sherlock and the not-like-other-people Sherlock. And (this filled my heart with love for the author) the hilarity of Sherlock thinking the choice between "truth" or "dare" was an "easy decision" not only because he wasn't about to do anything but because he planned his "truth" to be all lies. Yes, our Sherlock is in top form here! <3
Because I'm going to use the hell out of this icon while I can.
Date: 2012-05-03 12:41 am (UTC)I read a really long, and really well done, essay recently on why intelligence gets kids mocked in middle and high school, when in elementary and most other life stages its viewed as an asset. It made the great observation that it's not that "nerd" kids are incapable of learning *how* to behave to gain popularity, it's just that the effort involved doesn't seem as important, and the effort to be popular/sociable in middle school is all consuming. It's *every* waking moment of your life. The intelligent kids would much rather be learning Useful Things, and there just isn't the time to learn both.
The interesting this is, adult-Sherlock has the brain power to *learn* the social behavior that others expect to see. He just doesn't see it as worth the trouble to keep the front up. It's a touch frightening to watch him throw the switch, but I love watching it.
Re: Because I'm going to use the hell out of this icon while I can.
Date: 2012-05-03 05:06 am (UTC)Re: Because I'm going to use the hell out of this icon while I can.
Date: 2012-05-03 10:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-05-03 04:47 am (UTC)This was something I actually had in mind when I wrote the fic, and I guess I thought it was totally obvious that Sherlock set up this experience that reflected his own horrible first kiss. Maybe not? But writing the flashback was actually a lot of fun. I haven't seen a lot of young!Sherlock fic (I'm sure it exists, but I haven't seen it), but I've always thought it would be interesting to read more about what he was like as a teenager.
I love how he doesn't even consider for a split second telling any sort of truth
Right, exactly! I can't imagine he'd tell the truth under these circumstances even around people he knew and trusted. The only reason he ever makes himself vulnerable in canon is to get something from someone else. All that "alone protects me" stuff applies to everyone, including John. And even in the context of this fic, John doesn't learn any of this stuff about him. But it's fun to pick away at that in fic, you know?
And I appreciated the little detail of Sherlock's inability to hear sarcasm, and how he had to process that man's smile before knowing how to respond
He's also channeling me a bit there during my first few weeks on Tumblr. It was all so confusing at first. :-P
Thank you so much! *smooch*
no subject
Date: 2012-05-06 03:19 pm (UTC)I have an excuse to use this icon!
Date: 2012-05-03 12:32 am (UTC)Omg, I looooove the making up of the story in Truth or Dare! I hope for John’s sake that he continues to use his story telling abilities with manuscripts/erotic love letters strategically left around the flat.
**JAWDROP HAS BROKEN FLOOR** “And it still is, actually. We're still together." SHERLOCK YOU BASTARD! **laughing my ass off** Oh, I wonder if that story is going to catch up to John?
Sherlock felt annoyance rising in him steadily. Ha. John thinks they’re being so subtle...
Aaaaaaaaaaaw. Damn, I can picture a teenage Sherlock far too well. Probably nothing but angles with that extra weirdly stretched looks teens get when they’re mid-growth spurt. **glare of death at the group of truth or dare high school girls** I greatly dislike herds of teenage girls. Give this girl credit for knowing how to use a needle and thread to hem her skirt though. Most of the girls at my HS just stapled them up so they could rip the staples back out in case of a surprise measurement inspection. Because *nothing* says “sexy” like hideously stapled skirts. **eyes are incapable of rolling back far enough**
Heeeeee. I will console myself with images of said grown girls eating their hearts out when they see Sherlock all grown up and with the gorgeous-in-his-own-way John Watson. XD
Re: I have an excuse to use this icon!
Date: 2012-05-03 04:52 am (UTC)I know, right? And that's probably a bit OOC for him, TBH, but the writer doesn't quite want to deal with it yet. ;-)
Oh, I wonder if that story is going to catch up to John?
That is a reeeelly interesting thought. *files it away for the sequel*
Most of the girls at my HS just stapled them up so they could rip the staples back out in case of a surprise measurement inspection.
I didn't even think of that, actually. My mom said they would always tug their skirts down (they shirts were typically long enough that they could do that) if a teacher or administrator started to get suspicious and actually measured. That's what I had in mind -- no actual experience with that sort of thing myself. By the time I was in high school (US public), there wasn't really a dress code about skirt length that I was aware of.
I will console myself with images of said grown girls eating their hearts out when they see Sherlock all grown up and with the gorgeous-in-his-own-way John Watson
Oh, that is a delicious thought! :-D
Thank you so much!
Re: I have an excuse to use this icon!
Date: 2012-05-03 10:44 am (UTC)Oh don't even start talking sequel! You'll have me camped out on your front porch waiting for my next hit!
A lot did just tug their skirts down. It was really the crazy (usually evil) b!tches that went so far as stapling, and they were the type I could picture participating in this kind of stunt, so my brain plopped that image down. ^_^' I was in US private Catholic HS, all girls. @___@
:D No, thank YOU for story times! XD
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Date: 2012-05-03 01:11 am (UTC)He grinned, which was Sherlock's only cue for how to interpret his words.
A great exploration of Sherlock, and once again, I am astonished about how my (paralleling John's) assumptions about Sherlock were off the mark.
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Date: 2012-05-03 05:03 am (UTC)I am astonished about how my (paralleling John's) assumptions about Sherlock were off the mark.
That's fantastic to hear because that was really the goal all along, you know? :-D
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Date: 2012-05-03 03:26 am (UTC)It's certainly a pleasant way to spend a Wednesday night, while waiting for a new page from Teahouse. ^_^
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Date: 2012-05-03 08:12 am (UTC)My heart fell for a second when I actually thought that Sherlock wouldn't lie but tell the truth in the Truth or Dare! Thank G you made him know how to tell a lie (and one that I now believe has been his fantasy for a long time).
His first kiss story was utterly believable and has made me think of my own. (Not particularly good) If you later write a first time sex-story I believe I shall have to curl up in a foetal position... (Not good at all). ;-)
You say we can make requests about the scenes we'd like to see. I've said before that I'd like to see them ALL (before you continue the story...). ;-)
And what I'm particularly looking forwards to is when you reveal who the celebrity is and S's reaction to J using the safety word. And also when J chooses S. *squees*
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Date: 2012-05-04 04:08 pm (UTC)LOL! I honestly can't imagine him even considering telling the truth in such a situation. He (canonically) doesn't even reveal things about himself to John unless it's absolutely necessary. And people are so easy to fool, from his perspective, right? He told them what he thought they wanted to hear, basically.
and one that I now believe has been his fantasy for a long time
There is an element of that here, absolutely, though I still haven't decided if that's something he's actually considered or if it's been more of a fleeting thought, you know? Interesting though!
His first kiss story was utterly believable and has made me think of my own.
Several people have said that! :-( First kisses are supposed to be sweet and romantic, and so I figured that Sherlock's would have to be almost violent in a way, at least coerced and unpleasant, in order for him to decide not to try again.
Thank you so much!
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Date: 2012-05-04 08:25 pm (UTC)IMO, first kisses are drunken fumbles and not sweet or romantic at all.
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Date: 2012-05-03 03:12 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2012-05-03 09:28 pm (UTC)Well favourite scenes, I am really looking forward to see when Sherlock begins to "understand" his feelings for John...
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Date: 2012-05-04 04:09 pm (UTC)And yeah, I'm kind of looking forward to that too. ;-)
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Date: 2012-05-04 03:20 pm (UTC)Another wonderful installment. Young Sherlock breaks my heart, but I love the scene, I love the insight into his character and the way we get to see him process such an atrocious event.
Also I love Sherlock's fiction of how he and John go together and the audience reactions that he gets. This is one of those times where we get to see Sherlock playing a part and I have to admit that those are the most intriguing for me on the show and I loved getting to see Sherlocks side of one of them.
Thanks again for your lovely fics!
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Date: 2012-05-04 04:13 pm (UTC)This is one of those times where we get to see Sherlock playing a part and I have to admit that those are the most intriguing for me on the show
I love that on the show as well, and it was definitely one of the things I was looking forward to writing in these missing scenes.
Thank you so much! :-)
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Date: 2012-05-07 11:59 pm (UTC)OH MY GOD! If it hasn't been requested yet, I'm requesting now: Sherlock redoing this experiment PROPERLY this time XD
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Date: 2012-06-10 12:15 am (UTC)