Title: The Way They Fit
By: justtopostmyfic
Fandom: Based on the Guy Ritchie movie starring Robert Downey Jr. and Jude Law.... - Sherlock Holmes (2009)
Pairing: Holmes/Watson
Genre: H/C, fluff
Rating: PG with an edge
Word count: ~750
Summary: Holmes and Watson share a quiet moment on the settee. It's no surprise that Watson is therapeutic for Holmes, but Holmes is also good for Watson.
A/N: Thanks so much ingridmatthews for letting me write this ficlet in the same verse as her heart-warming fic, A Thousand Times Over. What a beautiful, intimate and private atmosphere she bundled Holmes and Watson in! My humble ficlet continues in the same night.

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Holmes knelt by Watson's feet, head bowed in thought while fingers dug and kneaded industriously, occasionally caressing. When Holmes felt the knots in Watson's leg ease up sufficiently for his liking, he got off his knees and gently guided Watson to lean back completely against the settee. He slid one arm around Watson's shoulders and planted a kiss on his lips in time to catch Watson's look of surprise, while his other hand masterfully undid the familiar belt buckle. Then Holmes resumed his position of kneeling by Watson's feet. The hands were back massaging and caressing--both legs, this time-- with utmost tenderness, while Holmes' mouth over Watson's cock was warm and moist and eager. The contrast yet close proximity of Holmes' simultaneous actions was enough to make Watson's head spin. He stopped puzzling over why Holmes probably thought he had to make up for the hurt and humiliation Watson felt that evening, and lost himself in a primal, hazy euphoria as he treaded his hands lightly through Holmes' locks.

He was hinging perilously on the brink of sanity until involuntarily, the mind-blowing intensity and focus of all of Holmes' efforts sent him over the edge. Watson came with a shout, more quickly than he expected and certainly more quickly than he normally did. Holmes took all he had to offer, then rose to join Watson on the settee. Watson grinned broadly at him, still dazed in post-coital stupor, and made a move to return the favor to Holmes.

"No, it's all right this time." Holmes murmured gently as he took Watson's hand in his own and squeezed it instead. He nestled his back against Watson's chest, and they maneuvered themselves until they were lying lengthwise on the settee with Watson spooning up behind Holmes. Holmes was still clutching on to his hand and without hesitation, Watson's other arm came to wrap tightly around Holmes. He draped his leg-- which had stopped hurting since Holmes' handiwork-- over both of Holmes'; anything and everything he could do to cocoon his caring and beloved Holmes in a more intimate embrace.

It took a brief moment, and then Watson realized that this was exactly how Holmes had planned it. Holmes-- fighting fit and able-bodied Holmes-- was asking him to play the role of the protector. Him. Watson felt touched and surprised and his heart ached all at once, tears on the brink of welling up in his eyes. But then Watson decided not to feel sorry for himself any more, and instead pressed kisses along the nape of Holmes' neck. He could tell from the rate and depth of his breathing that Holmes wasn't asleep, and Watson wanted to cover every inch of skin between Holmes' hairline and his collar many times over. In his arms, Holmes started humming, near silently. Watson could feel the vibrations thrum through Holmes' back, as they resonated against his own chest and around his arms. No words were spoken between them; no words were needed. In the quiet comfort of the evening that stretched out before them, Watson decided that he wasn't going to doze off either-- he wanted to hold on to Holmes, and hold on to this moment.

An indeterminable amount of time to Watson later, Mrs Hudson bustled in with a tray of hot tea. She took in the tableau before her. It was the most natural thing ever, the way they fitted together. Holmes' eyes were slightly glazed over in a blissful state, and a beatific smile adorned his face. Mrs Hudson didn't quite understand all the perils that being a consulting detective entailed, but she was familiar enough with her tenants to know that Holmes only allowed himself to be anything less than his hyper-alert self when he felt safe in Watson's arms. Only Watson could get Holmes to such a normal state of tranquility, while he was still awake. Something almost... maternal tugged at her heartstrings to see Holmes so human-like, and as their landlord she was grateful for that too. Without Dr. Watson's calming presence for Holmes, heaven forbid, the damages caused to her property could, quite literally, be through the roof.

She set the tray before them on the table and attempted to tidy up a bit. "Thank you, nanny", Holmes murmured almost at the same time as Watson's sincere "Thank you, dear Mrs Hudson." As she straightened up and prepared to leave, she braced herself for the customary biting jibe from Holmes about poisoning his tea or something of that sort. Even as she closed the door behind her, it never came.

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