theonewhocounted | (no subject)

theonewhocounted

The Bright Spot Meme

(Was there every a more suitable meme for dear Molly?)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

theonewhocounted

She smiles and looks over her shoulder at him as she rolls the other stocking down.

"Yeah?" she asks. "I'm glad you liked them."

Sherlock is different than most men she's been with. Other men she at least has an idea of the sorts of things they'll react favourably to - sexy lingerie, a somewhat lowcut top or dress, a darker shade of lipstick, high heels. Of course, each is different, but she has a baseline to start from. Sherlock has spent most of his life either ignoring or seeming completely unfazed by those sort of things. She couldn't really expect he'd react the same. Although, so far he's proved not all that different from most men.

Once both are off, she pulls the duvet up again and rests on her side looking at him, a small smile on her lips.

From:

punchmeitssubtext

He doesn't let her go far. One arm curls around her--he needs to touch her, to feel the afterglow of her orgasm thrumming in her skin in time with his own.

She keeps surprising him, over and over. And he knows she's not going to stop, that he's going to end up discovering more than he'd thought possible about sex and about what he himself really likes. The prospect of diving into all that messy stuff has always been a bit daunting, but that's because he faced it alone--or, in one case, was offered a chance with someone he didn't and couldn't trust.

He begins to trace the Greek alphabet, letter by letter, against her bare shoulderblade with a fingertip. Not to tease her, just because he can, because he's present in the moment and likes the feel of her warm skin.

(And speaking of surprises, though neither of them will know it for hours yet, Molly's coworker has the night shift tonight. During her "lunch" break, in the wee hours, she decides to check Tatler, like she always does.

To: Molly
From: Sophie (Work)

3:17 AM: CAMERA_0108.JPG

The photo is a screenshot from the Tatler website. Which has a picture of Sherlock and Molly holding hands in the foyer of the Royal Opera House. No one was quick enough to get a picture of them kissing later in the evening, but someone clearly had the opportunity to grab this shot before the show.

3:17 AM: MOLLY

3:17 AM: YOUR NEW BLOKE IS SHERLOCK????)

From:

theonewhocounted

Molly happily fits her body in next to his and sighs contentedly as his hand traces patterns on her skin. She wants to say so many things to him, wants to hear what he thought about his first time, wants to tell him how he makes her feel, wants to thank him for the evening, for trusting her with this. But the warmth of his body, the beat of his heart, and the feel of his hand on her lulls her quickly and soon she is drifting off to sleep. There will be time for talking in the morning.

Molly's mobile is tucked in her clutch still which is somewhere in her flat between the entryway and her bedroom. She won't discover it again until she gets up the next day.

From:

punchmeitssubtext

Her slowing breathing and the warm contentment she's practically radiating, combined with the pleasant exhaustion of sex, act on him as powerfully as any drug. Sherlock's eyelids grow heavy even as he watches Molly drowse, and not long after she drifts so does he.

He sleeps more soundly, actually lets his body rest more, while he's sharing a bed with her. Eight hours of sleep next to Molly does more to recharge him than the night he spent in his own bed before heading to Cardiff, or any of the time he'd had in what was objectively a pretty comfortable hotel room there.

When he wakes, from a very pleasant dream of watching a very capable Giselle variation and realizing that the dancer is Molly herself, they're in roughly the same sort of position he'd awakened to on Saturday: him on his back, her sprawled against his side and... well. Cuddling him.

He's still not sure how he feels about the word, but the actual thing is pretty nice.

Sherlock doesn't think he's ever seen Molly asleep. Exhausted and half-dozing during a case, maybe, but not fully unconscious. His half-awake mind, still tangled up in ballet and the intense emotions of the night before, summons up a soft strain of Tchaikovsky--one of the few fairy tales Sherlock knows.

Which is, he knows, sort of an absurd thought for one thirtysomething professional to be having about another, but that he can't quite bring himself to be embarrassed about.

From:

theonewhocounted

This time when Molly awakens tangled up and cuddling Sherlock, she is not worried that he'll be annoyed with her or off-put by so much physical contact. In fact, when she realizes where she is, she holds on to him tighter and sighs. She can tell he's already awake because he's faintly humming Tchaikovsky's "Sleeping Beauty Waltz."

"I'm going to take that as a compliment," she murmurs without moving from her rather comfortable position on his chest. He might feel her lips quirk a little though.

From:

punchmeitssubtext

He doesn't realize he was humming until her soft, rough voice interrupts him. Oddly, he's not really startled or embarrassed by having been caught being... sentimental.

"You're not wrong." His hand rises to comb through her soft, tangled hair in slow strokes.

From:

theonewhocounted

Molly's smile widens and she lifts her head to look up at him, her eyes still only partly open. His hand in her hair makes her feel content like she's Toby when he's in her lap. She could almost purr.

It's amazing what some good sex can do. She feels refreshed and relaxed and safe here with him.

From:

punchmeitssubtext

It will likely take modern neuroscience thirty to fifty years, he thinks, to either understand or replicate what happens to him when Molly smiles up at him. Even with so little real experience understanding human emotion, he can read certain things on her.

She's well-rested. She trusts him. She's happy, and not attempting to keep any secret worry from him. And she looks satisfied in a way he's never actually seen before--maybe to a lesser degree here and there in the past, but not this pleased.

(He knows, distantly, he must look sort of debauched himself. But he doesn't mind.)

"Good morning to you, too."

From:

theonewhocounted

He does, in fact, also look pleased and debauched and well-rested and happy. Molly's actually never, ever seen him look that way. The look on his face almost makes him appear to be a totally different person (but in the exact opposite way of when he's on drugs and looks like a different person, in a much more healthy way). It pleases her immensely.

"Morning," she says, blinking slowly, still waking up. And a good morning it is. "Have you been awake long?"

Toby's not yet scratching at the door, so she knows it's not too late in the morning.

From:

punchmeitssubtext

"Not long, no." That same pleasantly high feeling is back, stronger and more sustained. Maybe a more regular schedule wouldn't be such a bad thing, if this is the tradeoff--waking up renewed and buzzed with an armful of Molly.

A thought left over from the previous night bubbles up in this unguarded quiet between them.

"Based on last night I think a subscription's a solid plan."

From:

theonewhocounted

"Oh good, I don't want to bore you with my sleeping," she jokes easily. Although, it's a valid concern with him - boredom.

At first she doesn't quite follow his jump in conversation - she's only just woke up after all. Her face is confused until what he's talking about registers.

"Oh! Yes. The ballet," she says after first thinking he meant a subscription to her or maybe condoms or, well, she wasn't sure. "That would be lovely. If you're sure you think you can stand me for 3 or 4 more performances."

She smiles. She's not serious really.

From:

punchmeitssubtext

(If he knew what she was thinking, Sherlock might point out that having a detective on call who wants to fuck her senseless any given day of the week is sort of a condom subscription service in its way.)

He laughs softly, a rumble deep in his chest. "I'll manage." It's just as warm and affectionate as her own joke. "I could always get us a private box so we could shag at the interval."

From:

theonewhocounted

"Sherlock!" she says, looking appalled but she's more amused. "You're turning into a horny school boy."

She's laughing though. Sherlock Holmes who looked uncomfortable around the word 'sex' until recently just suggested they shag at the ballet. She's created a monster.

From:

punchmeitssubtext

"I'm playing catch-up, thanks so much--" His own laugh is louder now, deeper. "--but if you like, I can skip my plans to ask if you wanted me to give you oral sex before breakfast."

From:

theonewhocounted

Molly is laughing more too and can feel his body shaking with the force of his own laughter.

"Lucky me," she says with a grin. "Except that I will not shag you at the ballet. Unless we have access to a private restroom with a door that locks. I do have standards."

She is grinning like a fool because this is fun. She hasn't had this much fun in ages it feels like. She crawls up his body a bit to kiss him, forgetting for the moment about morning breath.

"And if I ever turn down oral sex, call an ambulance. I'm probably dying."

From:

punchmeitssubtext

He doesn't care much, himself, because he's having just as much fun with her--just learning about her, using their bodies to explore one another--as she is with him. Still, now that things have begun to turn in this direction he's happy to let her pull him back into what he usually finds the messy and somewhat intimidating world of his own desires.

"Duly noted," he murmurs into the corner of her mouth, dropping kisses along her jaw and flicking his tongue against her lips. "You haven't had it nearly enough, have you?"

From:

theonewhocounted

She hums as he tastes her.

"I don't know if any woman has had nearly enough oral sex in their life," she says. "That's not true. I bet lesbians have a plentiful amount of it. Good oral sex too I imagine."

Women know what women want after all.

From:

punchmeitssubtext

"Oh, absolutely. Amateur lesbian pornography was a very valuable resource, during my preliminary research."

Sherlock begins to kiss his way slowly down her throat, to her collarbone. He knows by now that she enjoys talking during sex, and though he'd never really understood the concept before the events of the past few days he thinks he gets why she finds it so interesting now.

"Granted, there are also several respectable archives dedicated entirely to videos of men performing cunnilingus on their partners," he says as he nips at a soft patch of skin near her sternum. "I'll share the login information for the one I'm subscribed to now, if you'd like."

From:

theonewhocounted

Molly's brain stops for a moment there, around about the time the words "amateur lesbian pornography" come out of his mouth. Her own mouth hangs open in surprise. It's probably good his attention is fixed elsewhere so he doesn't see she's stalled out. She's sure he knows anyway and probably loves the reaction he's getting.

"I'm sorry..." she says, trying to restart herself. "You have a subscription to a porn website? A respectable one, no less?"

Because of course any old porn won't do for Sherlock Holmes. She laughs then at her own internal joke. Of course Sherlock's studied lesbian porn to find out how to give cunilingus. Of course he would subscribe to a whole damn site just to do research on the subject. She imagines him sitting in his room at the hotel with his laptop, studying oral sex techniques. For some reason in her visual he has glasses on and a large legal pad.

Edited Date: 2017-02-28 02:08 am (UTC)

From:

punchmeitssubtext

He looks up for a moment when she laughs, unable to keep himself from wondering for a second if she's laughing at him... except by now the trust between them has grown enough that he can laugh along with her instead of pulling away. Someone who uses her own knowledge of sex to help him through his inexperience as generously as she's been doing isn't going to recoil from him over this, and he finally understands that about her even if he hasn't formally acknowledged it to himself yet.

"If a thing is worth doing, Molly, it's worth doing well. So yes, I have a subscription to a porn website, in the interest of having a better general idea of how to pursue a valuable skill."

(She's not that far off with the legal pad.)

From:

theonewhocounted

When he looks up, she worries for a moment if she's offended him by laughing at the idea of it all or that he might think she's laughing at him. She continues to smile at him and presses her hand to his cheek. There's a joke on her tongue about how other men should learn to use that excuse for their porn habits. It will certainly put them in better favour with their wives or girlfriends. But, she decides instead to go a different route.

"You are an extraordinary man, Sherlock Holmes," she says fondly. Because screw all those other men. She's got pick of 'em right here. A man who studies porn not just to have a wank (although she imagines he had one of those too), but to make himself a better lover for her. "Not just an extraordinary scholar or detective or violin player or puzzle solver or chemist, but an extraordinary man. And I'm a very lucky woman."

From:

punchmeitssubtext

The compliment throws him off-balance for a second. Because, really... that's the first time anyone's said that to him, in so many words. Yes, John has been a steady and infinitely understanding friend (and so was Mary), but this is entirely new.

All the danger that comes with being around him, all the hurt that's behind them and the inevitable mistakes ahead of them, and she still sees herself as lucky.

There's something in that thought too big to process right now, something that he'll have to unfold over the next weeks and months and however long this thing between them lasts. But it turns his smile small, almost tender.

And while he's not sure he'll ever be good at compliments, he knows there's one he can give her in return that will help her understand she means just as much to him.

"You are a fascinating woman, Molly Hooper."

From:

theonewhocounted

Molly is clearly also a very forgiving woman who believes in second (and third) chances. Someone who sees beyond what a person tries to make the world think they are.

If anyone else told her she was 'fascinating' as a compliment, she might worry that it was in place of outright calling her weird. But for him to call her fascinating is just about the best compliment she's ever received.

"Actually, I feel rather normal and dull most of the time," she says as she slides her hands through his hair. "Except recently, when I see you looking at me. I feel fascinating then." And in no way did she ever expect Sherlock to find her such. Interesting, at the very most. Fascinating was reserved for curious cases and bits of unearthed history or complicated symphonies or a locked door murder. People didn't seem to fascinate Sherlock unless they were dead. Until now anyway.

From:

punchmeitssubtext

He tilts his head into her touch, like a pleased cat, turning a little so he can kiss the inside of her wrist. It's strange, to hear that soft confession--when they'd first met he would have reflexively (a reflex born partly out of fear) rejected it offhand as something trite and sentimental born of fleeting sexual attraction. Now he understands what it means, on a level that goes beyond the words, beyond even the fact that they're naked in bed together and both halfway aroused.

He leans in to kiss the base of her throat, lingering and slow.

"Good thing you can always see me," he whispers, a soft wet breath against her skin.

From:

theonewhocounted

Sometimes you need to see yourself through someone else's eyes to appreciate things about yourself or see something new. It's why relationships can be important in helping you grow as a person. Right now what's reflected in his face is good, but sometimes it won't be. She'll do or say something untoward and he'll need to reflect that back at her too so she can be better than the day before.

When he kisses her throat she hums and closes her eyes.

"Always," she says in return as her fingers continue sliding through his hair.