merripestin: (Default)
Safe Distance on AO3

The mother was apparently poisoned, the son seems to have killed himself playing Russian roulette. It's a murder and a suicide. Or is it a suicide and a murder? At least the case is distracting John from the fact that sex with Sherlock was probably a mistake right from the start. John will learn to cope, one way or another.

This week Chapter 11
John at eighty would be tiny and gnarled. His taste in clothes would finally suit him. His gold would have faded to grey, and the little lines on his face would collapse into ravines. He would look out from under white eyebrows just as fierce, but twice as wry.

And he had just given that, that wonderful, terrible, doubtless hugely annoying old man, to Sherlock, to keep.

Given the events of this week, I'm adding a trigger warning for this chapter: there is an explosion, and someone is injured.

This brings to its end my experiment in posting chapter by chapter instead of posting the whole fic when I finished it in February. OMG.  falls over, screams, dies

Tiny text is tiny again.  Why is pasting text into dw so WEIRD?"

merripestin: (Default)
Safe Distance on AO3

 


The mother was apparently poisoned, the son seems to have killed himself playing Russian roulette. It's a murder and a suicide. Or is it a suicide and a murder? At least the case is distracting John from the fact that sex with Sherlock was probably a mistake right from the start. John will learn to cope, one way or another.

 

This week Chapter 10

"Do you know? Do you even know?" John whispered. He drew back enough to look up at Sherlock's face. "You are phenomenal."

Sherlock's mouth tilted up only on one side. "That's the point, John, it wasn't-- "


John stood, crowding Sherlock against the side of the table. "Shut up. I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about you. You're a fucking phenomenon. You -- " he shook his head, grasping for words. "You're like, I dunno, vaccine. Cubism. You're silicon fucking chips. Never mind. You do know. Lack of self esteem isn't one of your problems."

I just know everybody's at the con and nobody's going to read it...

 (We shall see if I have managed to strip out all the weird formatting this time.  Why this is so hard, I don't know.)
merripestin: (Default)

 

 Safe Distance on AO3

The mother was apparently poisoned, the son seems to have killed himself playing Russian roulette. It's a murder and a suicide. Or is it a suicide and a murder?  At least the case is distracting John from the fact that sex with Sherlock was probably a mistake right from the start. John will learn to cope, one way or another.

 

This week Chapter 9

The world was vivid. A sharp edge of shattered collarbone announced itself to his hand so that he could shift his palm to keep pressure in place so it wouldn't turn and break through skin. John's hands were hot and rock solid, keeping their work stable as they got a stretcher under the man. He rose in perfect unison with the medics, as if unfolding, unaware of muscles in his legs or any effort. They were a single creature as they got into the ambulance, the man they were moving not jarred at all. John saw Sherlock, standing there, staring, as they went by. John saw everything.




Stupid work, getting in my way all day...





merripestin: (Default)

 

 Safe Distance on AO3

The mother was apparently poisoned, the son seems to have killed himself playing Russian roulette. It's a murder and a suicide. Or is it a suicide and a murder?  At least the case is distracting John from the fact that sex with Sherlock was probably a mistake right from the start. John will learn to cope, one way or another.

 

This week Chapter 8…in which Sherlock solves the case, and things get very bad, very fast.
 

Sherlock's head was surprisingly hot in his palm.  Sherlock was wearing that cologne that smelled to John vaguely like green tea, odd but very pleasant.  Sherlock's shirt was blue so dark it was nearly black and so smooth it looked like the fabric might have been shaved from some solid block instead of woven.  The base of his throat was pale and heaving with breath.  His face was amazing.  He seemed beautiful and alien, eyes nearly silver, and the complex curls around his head seemed outlined in light. 

 


The hardest part of posting this on a weekly schedule has been  waiting all these weeks to post this chapter.

merripestin: (Default)
 
The mother was apparently poisoned, the son seems to have killed himself playing Russian roulette. It's a murder and a suicide. Or is it a suicide and a murder?  At least the case is distracting John from the fact that sex with Sherlock was probably a mistake right from the start. John will learn to cope, one way or another.
 
This week Chapter 7
John stood there very straight, very still, looking kindly and pleasant.  He was rubbing the knuckles of his index and middle fingers past each other in a way that meant he had about seven minutes more patience before his temper flared.   Sherlock saw within a minute that there was nothing decisive on the gun, but decided to use about five more of those remaining minutes just to enjoy this.  There were parts of seventeen types of deadly weapons scattered on Way's workbench, and John was quietly standing there being the most dangerous object in the room. It was very, Sherlock thought happily, like being in a relationship with a small amount of manganese heptoxide.  Except that John smelled very nice.


Very little time for polishing this week, so hope I didn't miss too many tyops.
 
merripestin: (Default)
  Safe Distance on AO3

The mother was apparently poisoned, the son seems to have killed himself playing Russian roulette. It’s a murder and a suicide. Or is it a suicide and a murder?  At least the case is distracting John from the fact that sex with Sherlock was probably a mistake right from the start. John will learn to cope, one way or another.

This week Chapter 6

John’s submission, so carefully judged, so wholly deliberate, was faintly frightening, like a block of C4 pressed into his hands, but John’s shocking pliancy lasted exactly as long as he wished it to, and then he became immovable, bedrock. It was like living with a particularly charming shear-thickening fluid, or possibly a very personable rheopectant. Yes, that was John, highly explosive, kissable oobleck. 


more than halfway through now.

merripestin: (Default)
 Safe Distance on AO3

The mother was apparently poisoned, the son seems to have killed himself playing Russian roulette. It's a murder and a suicide. Or is it a suicide and a murder?  At least the case is distracting John from the fact that sex with Sherlock was probably a mistake right from the start. John will learn to cope, one way or another.

This week Chapter 5...

He wanted -- he had wanted -- to be seen kissing John.  It was, admittedly, a primarily possessive urge.  But now --  Now he knew what John's mouth actually felt like: the warmth, the caressing mobile softness, the shockingly intimate wetness of that pink tongue.  He'd had John's tongue inside his mouth while he was having an orgasm, and the two sensations were now associated as firmly as if he'd put them side by side in his memory palace and reinforced the links every day for a decade.





merripestin: (Default)
 Safe Distance on AO3

Somehow John had never been taught the appropriate way to act when your best friend came back from the dead.  But Sherlock is back, and they’ve got a case — a suicide and a murder (or possibly vice versa).  John will learn to cope, one way or another.

this week: Chapter 4 …

Sherlock's eyes and mouth suddenly went round, the way they did when his genius careened round some hairpin turn of logic and crashed into a conclusion.  With his curls a mess, barechested in John's bed, the familiar blissed-out expression suddenly had implications that made John feel extremely odd.  "Dimmock's Russian roulette case!"  Sherlock shouted, sitting up fully.  He snatched the mobile away from John.

Later they interview some elderly bridge players, and Sherlock settles on a playlist for sex.


Stupidly busy at work, but gave this a last polish and posted it.

merripestin: (Default)
 
Somehow John had never been taught the appropriate way to act when your best friend came back from the dead.  But Sherlock is back, and they’ve got a case — a suicide and a murder (or possibly vice versa).  John will learn to cope, one way or another.
 
this week: Chapter 3 …
 
Sherlock moaned, no other word for it, and his hands now clutched at handfuls of the back of John’s jumper.  His mouth pressed and moved gently around John’s invading tongue like he wanted it there, right there.  He was just barely sucking on it.  He might have been the taller one, the one leaning down, but his mouth over John’s was soft and entirely receptive and christ, riding John’s tongue.

Now we've reached the porny bits.  Yay porny bits.  


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