This is my first story I made so I am really sorry if it is not good or needs work. Thank you for taking the time to read my story! :) Hope you enjoy it!!
DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING!!! nothing except for the story I made :) .
by the way lol I tried to make it from both perspectives so sorry if its a little confusing.
Watson went on with his nightly routine before going to sleep like he did every night. He put on his night clothes and sluggishly walked over to the bed. It was a normal cool night at 221B, besides the absence of a certain childish friend. Holmes was off at some late night boxing match. He was always trying to put himself into harms way for what ever reason.
As Watson sat on the bed, he heard some one coming up the steps. He knew from familiarity that it was Holmes. He chuckled to himself. What startled him was that the heavy steps didn't stop at Holmes's room. They came to Watson's closed door. As the footsteps came closer, he thought he could hear a shuffling sound.
Watson's door swung open slowly and revealed the startling image behind it. Holmes was leaning on the door frame and had one arm around his waist and a hand clutching a large, deep red splotch on his thigh. "Holmes!" Watson was over to him in a second leading him to his chair.
"Holmes what the bloody hell have you gotten yourself into!?" Watson was getting his bag from the closet and coming back to his hurt friend. Holmes was hunched over still holding his stomach and thigh. He was panting a little and shaking. "Holmes you will be the death of yourself." Watson said in a sincere voice.
Watson was on the brink of madness. He was franticly trying to keep himself together to help out the detective. What if his wounds were too severe? What if he had internal bleeding? He had to get the situation under control and fast.
Holmes looked up with a weak smile on his face. "I…have been…working…on a case." He said through pants. "You had told me that you were going out to fight. I need you to lie down on the bed." Watson said. He picked his friend up bride style and carefully placed him on the bed. Holmes was really light do to his lack of eating.
Holmes slowly straightened out his slender body and held his stomach and kept the same hand on his leg. "Yes I did…but I had…stumbled upon…an important…lead." The doctor just let the subject drop for the time being and focused on helping the hurt detective.
"Holmes you must move your hand. I have to examine the wound on your leg." The doctor tried to move the detective's hand but he wouldn't budge. It was high up in the middle of his thigh. Holmes didn't move his hand, and refused to. He was a little embarrassed of where the wound was located, and knew Watson had to remove some of the cloth that still clung to his leg.
Holmes had feelings for Watson for some time now. He kept those feelings locked away, and was afraid that if he said anything, Watson would put distance between them. He knew he was acting childish but he didn't want to be seen like this by Watson. He didn't want Watson to witness the reactions his body might have to the doctor's soft touch. He didn't want the feelings to boil over.
"Holmes move your hand." Watson said more forcefully. He grabbed Holmes's hand and yanked it away. Watson gasped at the large gash in his friend's leg. It was trickling blood down his leg now that the pressure was released. "It truly is…not all…that ghastly…My dear Watson." Watson immediately went to work on cutting the trousers. When he realized what was going on, Holmes intervened.
"Holmes what are you doing! I must close the wound up at once! I have no choice but to cut the trousers!" Holmes stopped and stared at his best friend. He was embarrassed and shy, but knew Watson was right. He looked away and let him go back to work. Holmes could feel a breeze on his leg as Watson cut a large patch out of his trousers. He shivered.
"Holmes this will hurt a lot. I'm out of pain killers. I'm so sorry. I must start immediately. Brace yourself." "What!?" He put the needle into Holmes's thigh. He jerked up at the pain but tried as hard as he could to stay still.
Watson worked as fast as he could on the wound. But he wasn't moving fast enough for Holmes. It took him every ounce of energy not to move. His body tensed and resisted the erg to thrash about. He yelled almost every time the needle went in. He was in pain not only from the needle, but from his abdomen tensing in response to the needle.
Watson felt terrible for his shaking friend. The wound had been so big that it was more painful to stitch back up, particularly without the much needed pain numbing drugs. He finally finished the stitching. Holmes was tearing and shaking. His face was bright red and his eyes bloodshot from the stress.
"Holmes I am terribly sorry! I am done you can relax!" Watson pleaded while wrapping up Holmes's thigh. The detective was clutching the bed sheet and was panting even more from the ordeal. His knuckles were white from squeezing the sheet and he was drenched in sweat. He began to relax little by little. It still hurt but it wasn't so bad any more now that Watson stopped yanking his skin and flesh back together.
Once he finished, Watson sat on the side of the bed and grabbed his friend's hand. "I'll…be fine… Watson. No need…to worry." He smiled despite his agony. "I must examine your stomach Holmes." Watson said soothingly. "I don't…believe…that it is…necessary." He protested. The doctor tried to get to his stomach but the stubborn detective wouldn't let him. "Damn it Holmes! Don't make me hurt you more!" Holmes slapped Watson's hands away as he attempted to move his friend's arm from his stomach.
Holmes hardly put up a fight and Watson had his hands above his head no problem. Holmes gasped in pain and surprise. "Sit up I must remove your shirt." "No it…really is…unnecessary!" Holmes tried to refuse but was too weak. Watson had him sitting up and was removing his shirt. He struggled to get free but was stuck in his friend's strong grasp. Watson had one hand around both the detective's wrists and was using his other hand to remove the shirt.
The stubborn detective gave up after a while and relaxed his body, letting his arms go limp in his friends strong hands. Watson took this as surrender and let go of his wrists. His arms fell to his sides and he let Watson remove the shirt clinging to his body. Watson couldn't help but notice the muscles bruised on his chest. He carefully laid him back down on the bed and started feeling the detective's chest for any breaks or bleeding. Holmes flinched at the doctor's touch.
"Your ribs are bruised badly but nothing more." He moved his hands down further. The detective let out an involuntary gasp. "Your organs seem to be intact. Am I causing you pain when I touch your stomach?" The detective shivered and answered "not at…all."
Watson couldn't tell what this reaction was at first, and Holmes couldn't help the reaction he was having. The sensation of Watson's hands on his chest made his heart pound. "You seem to have a much accelerated heart rate, and sensitivity to touch." He slid his hands down the detective's abs and stopped at his belly button. Holmes's breath caught in his throat. Watson couldn't help but enjoy touching Holmes's soft skin as he felt for abnormalities.
Watson was relieved that there was nothing to severe besides the gash in the detective's thigh. He was afraid he would have lost him. He was afraid to lose some one close. He couldn't hold the thought back any longer. Holmes is the most important person in his life.
"Watson…that's quiet…enough!" He was swatting away Watson's hands. He couldn't help but laugh. "What's wrong Holmes? I am merely examining you." The detective began to pout which made Watson even more amused. He put a hand on the detective's chest and got another choked gasp out of Holmes. He realized what the reaction might have been. Did he feel the same way Watson felt? He wanted to see how far this could go. He leaned over the detective seeking his soft, plump lips. Holmes noticed this and attempted to move away from the doctor.
Their lips were a few inches away and Holmes gasped out, "No, no, no, no!" His hands were pressed against Watson's chest failing to shove him away. As much as he wanted to kiss Watson, he was unsure of how much he could take. "Nmffhh." Watson forced a kiss on the detective. He shivered at the slightest touch of their lips and gave up on shoving Watson away. Watson explored this reaction that he enjoyed by forcing his tongue into his friend's mouth and using his knowledge to his advantage making it even more pleasurable.
Holmes's mouth was welcoming and warm. Watson could taste the tobacco and wine, making it all more intense. Holmes felt like he was melting and moaned deep in his throat, gasping for air. He wrapped his arms around Watson's neck, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss. All the emotions he had shoved away were flooding back into the kiss.
Watson got just the reaction he was looking for after a while of them kissing as Holmes started to unbutton Watson's shirt, shaking and fumbling. He was dying to touch Watson's skin and was dizzy from the kiss, ignoring the nagging throbbing of his thigh. The doctor had noticed this and smiled pulling away all too soon, leaving his friend breathless. "Get some sleep Holmes." He said as he limped out of the room and down to the couches leaving a shocked and bewildered detective behind.
Watson stopped at the bottom of the steps to collect himself. He was shaking and crying. He successfully saved the most important person in his life. He had found that said person had similar feelings. He thought to himself about what he had just done, and how it would affect their relationship. All he could know for certain is that Holmes is going to want to discuss this in the morning. With those thoughts in mind he limped over to the couch and went to bed, dreaming peacefully about the most important person in his life.
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