He's trembling as he comes down from the high, face pushed into her throat to anchor himself, breath hot and ragged against her skin. As open and vulnerable as he is right now, Molly's whisper goes straight into his chest, resonates through his whole body like an aftershock of the orgasm, and he tips his own head to breathe in her ear.
"Love you."
Sherlock moves a shaking hand to rest on her bound wrists. He's not quite up to the fine motor skills required to get the knot undone, but somehow the contact seems important.
The sound of those words coming from his mouth so easy and free still takes her by surprise. Love, for her, has always come some time after she's already started sleeping with someone. It's a thing that grows in a relationship and is often a point of anxiety when it shows up - that the other person is not there yet and will be taken aback by any confession.
She realizes now that there are definitely some benefits of love coming before sex. For one, the sex is noticeably better from the start. Having that deep, emotional bond is like its own aphrodisiac. The intensity of it continues to stun her.
Tears prick at her eyes as the cocktail of brain chemicals wash through her and she presses her nose into his hair, breathing deeply as he trembles against her. Her hands flex as she feels his come up to rest against her bindings, but she can be patient.
Sherlock, himself, has up until now mostly thought of both love and sex as something that happens to other people and not him. Which means he's been fairly dismissive of how passionate, how lost people can become in their relationships. But now, twined close and caught up in something that's a mixture of deeper trust and acceptance and compassion than he's ever experienced... now it's starting to make sense, why John needled at him so much before Sherrinford about finding someone.
He feels human with Molly, and for once that isn't a liability.
Carefully he tugs the knot loose, his fingers sliding over the back of one of her hands as she's freed. Even as he feels her lowering her arms, he relaxes, slumping to catch his breath.
Molly hums as her hands are freed and her arms can finally relax fully. She rolls her wrists around to release some of the tension from being bound, but it doesn't take long for her arms to wrap around Sherlock's body where it lays over hers. A sigh of relief leaves her as her hands make contact with his warm, slightly damp skin and slide up and down his back. She enjoyed being completely at his mercy, but missed this part.
He sighs, a long warm sound of contentment, and presses his lips to her still-hammering pulse. When he inhales he takes in the smell of her hair, of their body chemistry after sex, and it's almost better than a cigarette. Her hands smoothing over his back ease some of the little random shivers still running through him.
Now, he thinks, he gets why people take honeymoons. A sex holiday is a great idea. He's not sure why he didn't see it sooner.
Carefully he shifts, slipping out of her with a quiet groan, and rolls to his side so he's not completely on top of her.
He smiles back, a bit dazed, a breathless chuckle at the edge of his words.
"How does a Monet compare to a Rembrandt?" he asks, reaching over to brush a lock of her hair back from her face. "But to answer your implied question, it was brilliant, thanks."
He might have to invest in another scarf just for bedroom purposes. So the one he wears every day doesn't get worn out or so strongly associated with sex that he gets hot and bothered every time he wears it.
"I wasn't fishing for a compliment," she says. "This is just all new for you and it's interesting to find out what you like and...well, how you're feeling about all of it I guess."
She leans in to press a kiss to his nose, hoping he doesn't feel like a sociology experiment or something. Not that he doesn't love experiments.
"I'm glad it was brilliant though. It was for me too."
"Good." The word is practically a purr, just this side of smug. And because she's used the word interesting, somehow he feels more inclined to answer her sincerely, rather than brushing her off with a joke.
"It's... not what I thought it would be," he says slowly. "In a good way. I assumed it might be sort of a logistical nightmare, what with positioning and contraception and actual decisions on which kind of sex you want to have, but it's been--fun."
"Well, it can be awkward," she admits. "Especially in the beginning. But I think we're doing pretty well. No one's got an elbow to the face or anything."
Molly reaches out and wraps an arm around his waist so she can pull herself closer to him. This is fun.
"And I think the fact that we've known each other for ages and are comfortable with each other helps too."
"Mm." He's not sure how long he's really been comfortable with her--like the rest of his feelings for her, it's been building in him gradually for years. But no matter what the exact timeline might be, he knows she's right.
She's not afraid of him. She's not afraid of the chaos of his life, or the bizarre thorny tangle of his emotions. Not because she's confident that she can conquer it all, but because she knows him.
"And--if I'm honest, it helps that you're so frank about things like that. I mean, I've learned what my biochemistry is doing, it's the rest of me that needs explaining."
Molly may excite him, may drive him to distraction at times, but he's not afraid of her, either. And he knows she'll tell him the truth. She always does.
"Glad I can teach the great Sherlock Holmes something," she teases, her thumb running over his cheek before her face softens. "God, you're so bloody gorgeous."
His eyes are sparkling and brilliant in the midday light of her room, his hair a complete wreck, and the smile on his lips transforming his face into something younger, less troubled.
But his voice and his eyes are warm, and his lips are still smiling when he shifts to kiss the edge of her palm. He's had people tell him he's good-looking before--subtly, blatantly, predatorily--but only from her does it register as a compliment.
"I am now. I wasn't the first day we met when I thought the same thing."
She's not saying it was love at first sight. It definitely wasn't. He was a boorish, cocky prat who could get whatever he wanted. But he was a brilliant, interesting, gorgeous prat as well and she developed a crush on him in spite of his lack of social graces or even looking at her twice during most visits.
He's silent for a moment, and when he speaks again his voice is slow as he pulls up the memory.
"You had your hair back in a low bun, but not braided. Light blue buttondown blouse. You were weighing a liver."
When they'd first met he'd been a far colder and harsher person than he is now, his defenses raised against everyone and everything. And his first memories of her are factual, neutral, as if she were merely any other staff member at Bart's. But she's there. From the start, he's noticed and remembered her, even if it took him years and dozens of mistakes to start noticing her in anything close to the way he does now.
Not for the first time, his memory surprises her. She remembers meeting him that first day but the details are fuzzy, eroded with the years and all the things that have happened with them since.
"You didn't delete me," she jokes with a fond smile. She knows that he didn't think much of her then. Didn't have need for her beyond what she could do for him by way of body parts and lab time. But instead of feeling bad about it, it actually makes her feel incredibly proud. Look how far they've both come. What's happening between them right now feels like some sort of miracle in relation to how they started out. Who would have though?
He shifts towards her on the mattress, as if drawn closer by her smile. Which he is, in a way--in general, as well as at this specific moment.
And though going through all his memories of her would take far too much time and distract him from the far more important (and enjoyable) moment he's living right now, there is something that bubbles to the forefront of his mind and up onto his tongue.
"When I got shot. I sort of... had this hallucination. And I saw you at the start of it, before anyone else I know. You told me which way to fall so I wouldn't bleed out."
Him moving closer makes her smile widen and soon her legs are tangled with his, the arm around his waist tightening.
But what he says takes her by surprise. It wasn't what she was expecting him to say so it takes her a moment to respond. She remembers that day, when she found out he'd been shot and had come so close to dying. By the time the news made its way to her, he had been stabilized, but it still knocked the wind out of her.
"I guess you listened to me," she says in return with a smaller smile. She knows it was his own subconscious that provided him with that important information, but the fact that his subconscious manifested as her is not lost on her.
It's so much easier to say than I love you was, even if they've meant more or less the same thing for at least a year before now. But it still means letting his guard down, and he can't help but be at least a little self-conscious of that, even in an afterglow this heady. So he punctuates that statement by leaning down to kiss her lips, warm and slow.
Molly doesn't have time to respond to that before his lips are against hers. She kisses him back, her eyes slipping shut into the lazy kiss. His words from the lab that day play in her head. They used to play over and over in the years he'd been gone. It had become her mantra: "You count. You count. You count." It was what had gotten her through his funeral and the aftermath. It was a reminder that if she was capable and strong enough to help Sherlock take down Moriarty, then there wasn't anything she couldn't do. (At the time she thought that included getting over Sherlock and making a life for herself, which didn't really work out as planned but she can't really feel bad about that now.)
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zvi
no subject
Date: 2017-03-19 05:52 pm (UTC)"Love you."
Sherlock moves a shaking hand to rest on her bound wrists. He's not quite up to the fine motor skills required to get the knot undone, but somehow the contact seems important.
no subject
Date: 2017-03-19 06:11 pm (UTC)She realizes now that there are definitely some benefits of love coming before sex. For one, the sex is noticeably better from the start. Having that deep, emotional bond is like its own aphrodisiac. The intensity of it continues to stun her.
Tears prick at her eyes as the cocktail of brain chemicals wash through her and she presses her nose into his hair, breathing deeply as he trembles against her. Her hands flex as she feels his come up to rest against her bindings, but she can be patient.
no subject
Date: 2017-03-19 06:44 pm (UTC)He feels human with Molly, and for once that isn't a liability.
Carefully he tugs the knot loose, his fingers sliding over the back of one of her hands as she's freed. Even as he feels her lowering her arms, he relaxes, slumping to catch his breath.
no subject
Date: 2017-03-19 06:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-03-20 12:32 am (UTC)Now, he thinks, he gets why people take honeymoons. A sex holiday is a great idea. He's not sure why he didn't see it sooner.
Carefully he shifts, slipping out of her with a quiet groan, and rolls to his side so he's not completely on top of her.
no subject
Date: 2017-03-20 01:35 am (UTC)She smiles, looking content and enamored.
"How did that compare to the first time?"
no subject
Date: 2017-03-20 09:48 pm (UTC)"How does a Monet compare to a Rembrandt?" he asks, reaching over to brush a lock of her hair back from her face. "But to answer your implied question, it was brilliant, thanks."
He might have to invest in another scarf just for bedroom purposes. So the one he wears every day doesn't get worn out or so strongly associated with sex that he gets hot and bothered every time he wears it.
no subject
Date: 2017-03-20 10:35 pm (UTC)"I wasn't fishing for a compliment," she says. "This is just all new for you and it's interesting to find out what you like and...well, how you're feeling about all of it I guess."
She leans in to press a kiss to his nose, hoping he doesn't feel like a sociology experiment or something. Not that he doesn't love experiments.
"I'm glad it was brilliant though. It was for me too."
no subject
Date: 2017-03-21 12:09 am (UTC)"It's... not what I thought it would be," he says slowly. "In a good way. I assumed it might be sort of a logistical nightmare, what with positioning and contraception and actual decisions on which kind of sex you want to have, but it's been--fun."
no subject
Date: 2017-03-21 12:19 am (UTC)"Well, it can be awkward," she admits. "Especially in the beginning. But I think we're doing pretty well. No one's got an elbow to the face or anything."
Molly reaches out and wraps an arm around his waist so she can pull herself closer to him. This is fun.
"And I think the fact that we've known each other for ages and are comfortable with each other helps too."
no subject
Date: 2017-03-21 02:20 am (UTC)She's not afraid of him. She's not afraid of the chaos of his life, or the bizarre thorny tangle of his emotions. Not because she's confident that she can conquer it all, but because she knows him.
"And--if I'm honest, it helps that you're so frank about things like that. I mean, I've learned what my biochemistry is doing, it's the rest of me that needs explaining."
Molly may excite him, may drive him to distraction at times, but he's not afraid of her, either. And he knows she'll tell him the truth. She always does.
no subject
Date: 2017-03-21 02:41 am (UTC)"Glad I can teach the great Sherlock Holmes something," she teases, her thumb running over his cheek before her face softens. "God, you're so bloody gorgeous."
His eyes are sparkling and brilliant in the midday light of her room, his hair a complete wreck, and the smile on his lips transforming his face into something younger, less troubled.
no subject
Date: 2017-03-22 12:05 am (UTC)But his voice and his eyes are warm, and his lips are still smiling when he shifts to kiss the edge of her palm. He's had people tell him he's good-looking before--subtly, blatantly, predatorily--but only from her does it register as a compliment.
no subject
Date: 2017-03-22 12:15 am (UTC)"I am now. I wasn't the first day we met when I thought the same thing."
She's not saying it was love at first sight. It definitely wasn't. He was a boorish, cocky prat who could get whatever he wanted. But he was a brilliant, interesting, gorgeous prat as well and she developed a crush on him in spite of his lack of social graces or even looking at her twice during most visits.
no subject
Date: 2017-03-22 02:10 am (UTC)"You had your hair back in a low bun, but not braided. Light blue buttondown blouse. You were weighing a liver."
When they'd first met he'd been a far colder and harsher person than he is now, his defenses raised against everyone and everything. And his first memories of her are factual, neutral, as if she were merely any other staff member at Bart's. But she's there. From the start, he's noticed and remembered her, even if it took him years and dozens of mistakes to start noticing her in anything close to the way he does now.
no subject
Date: 2017-03-22 02:21 am (UTC)"You didn't delete me," she jokes with a fond smile. She knows that he didn't think much of her then. Didn't have need for her beyond what she could do for him by way of body parts and lab time. But instead of feeling bad about it, it actually makes her feel incredibly proud. Look how far they've both come. What's happening between them right now feels like some sort of miracle in relation to how they started out. Who would have though?
no subject
Date: 2017-03-22 10:18 pm (UTC)And though going through all his memories of her would take far too much time and distract him from the far more important (and enjoyable) moment he's living right now, there is something that bubbles to the forefront of his mind and up onto his tongue.
"When I got shot. I sort of... had this hallucination. And I saw you at the start of it, before anyone else I know. You told me which way to fall so I wouldn't bleed out."
no subject
Date: 2017-03-22 10:52 pm (UTC)But what he says takes her by surprise. It wasn't what she was expecting him to say so it takes her a moment to respond. She remembers that day, when she found out he'd been shot and had come so close to dying. By the time the news made its way to her, he had been stabilized, but it still knocked the wind out of her.
"I guess you listened to me," she says in return with a smaller smile. She knows it was his own subconscious that provided him with that important information, but the fact that his subconscious manifested as her is not lost on her.
no subject
Date: 2017-03-22 11:53 pm (UTC)It's so much easier to say than I love you was, even if they've meant more or less the same thing for at least a year before now. But it still means letting his guard down, and he can't help but be at least a little self-conscious of that, even in an afterglow this heady. So he punctuates that statement by leaning down to kiss her lips, warm and slow.
no subject
Date: 2017-03-23 12:07 am (UTC)