awww yeah

[mustbethetruth]

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To be honest, he isn't sure what he'd been waiting for; perhaps he was trying to see how long he could last without kissing, or clinging, or betraying his desire in any overly forward way; or maybe he was waiting for the both of them to be bared to the waist, so that when he finally gave in, they could begin right away with the honey aspect of this.

Regardless of what he'd been waiting for, it appears as if the moment has arrived. Certainly he can't negotiate himself into waiting longer. He reaches for Watson, sliding his hand into his hair, and pulls him in for an unapologetically passionate kiss.

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[lightconductor]

For a moment, the only room for thought in his head was a quiet, vague, but very heartfelt thank you, although who or what he was thanking was quite beyond him. He kissed back, hard, with his fingers digging into Holmes's skin from behind, slipping down into the back of the waistband of his trousers.

Without breaking the kiss, he backed up a little, leaning back against the table, drawing Holmes against him.

[lightconductor]

Watson let out a satisfied sound, not quite a groan and not quite a sigh, but a very comfortable expression. To be entirely truthful, he was feeling more than a little pleased with himself just at the moment.

"I'm sure it is your fault," he said, shifting comfortably between Holmes's legs, "but I think I have it in me to forgive you." He dipped his head to splash some water over his face, trying to scrub the honey away from the corners of his mouth and out of his moustache with his fingers. The honey in the coarse hair there felt rather... peculiarly uncomfortable, after all. He took another drag from his cigarette in his other hand. "Actually, to be entirely honest, I think I could forgive you even without the help cleaning up, but you're very welcome to continue." He leaned his head back to grin at Holmes, his expression teasing and very fond.

[lightconductor]

"I should like to see anyone stop us," Watson said, and then laughed, although not without a trace of nervousness. He shifted in the bed, moving onto his knees, cupping Holmes's face in his hands to kiss him again. "As it is, we have yet to see what the neighbours say. Perhaps they might object to a pair of maryannes, married or not, living in this previously presumably respectable set of cottages." Another kiss, warm and loving and deep; Watson wrapped an arm around Holmes's waist, to draw him close and kiss him better.

"But even if that is the case," he continued, his forehead against Holmes's, speaking nearly into his mouth, grinning wildly, "then I think we shall be able to hold them at bay. You arm yourself with your riding crop, and I shall have my revolver, and in the unfortunate event that there will be casualties, I shall sew them up again afterwards, and so win them to our side in the end."

[lightconductor]

Watson woke, reluctantly; he had slept extremely soundly after their exertions the previous evenings, and he still, he found, ached a little from the... vigorousness of their activities. It was a pleasantly satisfying sort of ache, no great discomfort at all, but it was enough that he was reluctant to be woken, and reluctant to wake.

Without opening his eyes, he felt for Holmes's face and laid his hand along the side of his neck, his touch gentle. "I love you," he murmured, "but I don't understand why you insist upon waking me up."