AN: So I'm very sorry for the delay. I have been mad sick with the flu. Like, the worst flu ever. Rest assured I'm back, and mean to finish this up soon.
Please be aware that there is some sexually explicit stuff following. Not exactly smut, but close enough.
You can see me.
I don't count.
He was looking at her…never leaving her face…and walked slowly closer to her. Molly hadn't moved…
But then she did. She hesitated a touch, and then walked over, stopping in front of him. And she swallowed, wrapping her arms around him, holding him close. And he did the same, taken a bit aback by her action.
…and he thought that it had been long since anyone had hugged him…he never allowed it. Yes, he had hugged John to comfort him about Mary, but no one dared to offer him comfort…he had denied himself touch. And so he relished it…the closeness of her, her arms, her face resting against his chest…and he kissed the top of her head. He felt her warmth and he basked in it.
"I'm sorry," she said, pulling away.
"What for?" lamenting her distance.
"For…everything that's happened to you. You're an incredible person without the past you have. You are extraordinary with it," she smiled.
"I'm not," he shrugged. "I used to think so. My greatest weakness…to stubbornly hold onto my uniqueness."
"I think that you are," Molly said.
He swallowed. "Thank you."
Her breath was coming fast.
But he wouldn't act…he would wait for her.
And Molly reached for him…she ran her hands up his chest…up to his shoulders…and she took off his suit jacket…he closed his eyes. And she ran her hands back down his chest…she reached up…
…and she took his mouth in hers…
Sherlock deepened it quickly, wrapping his arms around her…the sweet relief of the action filled his senses with warmth…and he moaned a touch, savoring her taste and the dance they were doing in the middle of the sitting room.
Hands were everywhere, grasping at clothes, teeth and tongues…
In between, before he could begin to take off any of her clothes…"Here?"
"Bedroom," she gasped.
And he took her hand, leading her down the narrow hallway to the bedroom. He pulled her jumper off, and leaned in for another kiss, unbuttoning her blouse, tearing it from her, his hunger acute, he couldn't leave her mouth.
And once he got the clasps undone, her bra was on the floor, and he eased her onto the bed, finally breaking the kiss.
…Sherlock undid her pants and pulled them from her with some ferocity, anxious beyond reason…
And Molly laid there, her knees bent somewhat, naked on his bed.
He swallowed, and placed his hand on her knee. She was so vulnerable…so lovely…and she was his…and his hand went to her stomach, up to her breast, and he cupped it, relishing the feel of her, and she opened her legs, as he leaned in to kiss her once more.
Molly unbuttoned his shirt, and sat up, bringing him with her…she pulled it off and threw it to the floor.
He gasped…and cupped her face. He was kneeling on his bed…and he got up, taking his pants off, and retrieved a condom from his bedside table.
He had put it on, then turned to Molly…he sat next to her, but before he could do anything, she was straddling him, sinking onto his arousal, and he was powerless. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, and she was on his lap, moving with some fluidity. He felt her hands grasping at his back, and his face was buried in her shoulder as she moved…he was close…so quickly she made him reach this point…his hands were on her back, fingers wrapped at her shoulders, he was at her mercy…he moved, deepening his position inside of her, and she let out a groan that captivated him…
…and he was nearly there, Molly's movement was a kind rhythm, nothing frantic, but severe in its own right…he moved his hand toward her sex, and that was all she required…she spilled her orgasm into his hand, and he immediately followed.
They were both in a pant.
And Molly was shaking.
He was trembling.
They hadn't moved at all.
And he felt himself getting hard again, for he was still inside of her.
Finally, he pulled away from her shoulder. "Are you all right?" he asked.
"No," she choked. "Are you?"
"I…don't know," he looked at her. "What's wrong?"
"I'm freezing," she smiled…and it was true, her teeth had begun to chatter.
"Oh…" and he pulled her off of him. "During intercourse," and he tossed the used condom into the bin. "Blood rushes to every part of the body," he took out some pajama pants and a dressing gown. "Immediately following climax," he pulled on the pants and helped Molly with the dressing gown. "The blood rushes to the core, often causing chills," and he pulled down the blanket and sheets from the bed.
"Thank you Sherlock. I understand the biology," she smiled, getting under the covers. "Why are you trembling?"
And he was. His hands were positively quaking. "I don't know. Never happened before," and he rubbed his hands on his pants. "Water," he went to retrieve some.
He got two glasses and filled them…idly wondering if the water would be able to find his mouth with his trembling hands. He brought them back and sat on the bed, handing Molly one.
She sipped. "I never thought of you as the pajama bottom type."
"I don't usually sleep in the nude," he attempted to sip.
"I do," she smiled.
And he coughed. "Are you trying to kill me, Molly?"
"No, of course not. Just being playful…" she watched as he tried to drink. "Here," and she took the glass and raised it to his lips.
And he drank. "Thank you."
She placed it on the table…then watched as he leaned over, his hands in his hair…and it was then that she saw his back. "Sherlock?"
"Hm?"
"What happened to your back?"
"What do you mean?" and he turned to look at her.
She touched one of the scars. "You've got scars…all over…"
"Oh. Well, most of that is from when I was abroad a few years ago attempting to uncover Moriarty's network."
"You were beaten?"
"Yes."
She swallowed. "I had no idea…"
"I have loads of scars, Molly. It isn't something to fuss over."
"No…" and her gaze fell.
He swallowed. "Was it…disappointing?"
"What?"
"Sex. Was it disappointing?"
Her brow furrowed. "I don't…."
"Well, I had rather sold myself recently as this expert. I hadn't counted on our first encounter being so…so…" he swallowed. "Intense."
"Oh. God no, Sherlock. It was…" she shrugged. "It was…wonderful. It couldn't have been anything but wonderful."
He smiled.
"How are your hands?" she reached for him.
"Ah…better…" and they were. But still trembling somewhat.
"Here. Lay down," and she sat back, indicating that his head should go in her lap.
And he did…and Molly began stroking his head…he wrapped his arms around her legs, and was lulled into a soft sleep.
Dull light pieced its way slowly across the room.
He opened an eye, and felt her beneath him. He raised his head up, and yes…there she was…in his dressing gown, sound asleep.
Memories of the night previous flooded his mind, and he was equal parts elated and eager to prove himself, for he felt that he had been ill prepared for his reaction to sex with Molly.
It had never been like that with the Woman.
He rolled onto his back. Sex with Irene had been odd. He supposed that was mainly due to her profession and her own sexuality, but he had been detached enough that it was no strain on him at all. He enjoyed himself, for the most part, and always left after a couple of hours.
He never slept with her. Never had he had sex and then fell asleep…not even with his first encounter.
So this was new. And he rather liked it.
He studied her face as she slept…she had a very slight snore, and she was slouched over…she had evidently fallen asleep while sitting up, and through the night had slid. She was in an awkward position.
He smiled.
Sex with Molly was so much…more…he felt out of control. He felt like he couldn't get close enough…he was satiated, but not…he could have easily had another go.
But he had been more concerned about her comfort…about her…
He supposed that was what was meant by "making love." Strict consideration for one's partner.
Sherlock desperately wanted her to wake…but he felt like such a knave to attempt to. He sighed, and looked at the ceiling.
She would have to work that night.
He closed his eyes. Perhaps he could talk her out of that, just this once…
"Sherlock?"
His eyes flew open. "Molly…" he turned onto his side. "Good morning," and he touched her cheek, kissed her forehead.
"Is it morning?"
"By the looks of it. Unless something very, very odd is going on with the world," and he smiled.
"We slept all night?" she yawned, and sat up.
"You are rather quick, you know," he sat up with her.
"Oh stop it. I haven't had any coffee yet," she rubbed her eyes.
"Molly?"
"Hm?" she looked at him.
"Can I do something?" he was looking at her hair.
"Ok…?"
And he reached for her ponytail, and pulled it out softly. "There," he ran his fingers through her hair.
"Better?" she smiled.
"I have always wanted to do that," and he tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear. "So…coffee?" and he got up.
"I'll help," she got up, too. "Have you got an extra toothbrush?"
"Mm…don't think so. Use mine," and he went to the kitchen to start the coffee.
He bustled about with the coffee, listening to her brush her teeth, and found himself delighted with the sound.
How very strange that such a thing could cause him joy.
…and he heard her enter the kitchen…and he looked. She was swimming in his dressing gown…but he absolutely loved seeing her thus.
"What?" she said, pulling the gown closer.
"Nothing," and he turned away. "I'll just use the loo. Coffee should be ready any minute," and he went past her into the loo to take care of his morning routine.
He finished, and walked into the kitchen to find Molly making both cups.
"Black. Two sugars," she smiled.
"Thank you," and he took his, and sat on the sofa.
Molly sat on the other end, curled her legs up under her.
"You work tonight," he observed.
"Yes," and she sipped. "But I could come over after, if you want."
"What time is that?"
"Mm…it's not the graveyard shift, technically…so about two am, I should think."
"Two," he repeated.
"Yes."
"Molly, wouldn't it be nice to take the day?"
"Sorry?"
"You know. Take the day. And we could…just…see where the day takes…us?" he looked at her with a mischievous smirk.
"Sherlock. This is my job. And I just got back from a leave. A leave of your doing," she added.
Blast. He had forgotten about that. "Right," and he sipped more coffee.
"There you go again…pouting," she smiled.
He rolled his eyes. "Is it so difficult to believe that I merely want to spend as much time with you as I possibly can? These things are so new, and I want to…" he looked at her. "Enjoy them fully."
Molly cocked her head. "That's very sweet, but…"
"It is most certainly not sweet. Retract that immediately," and he stood, going to the kitchen for more coffee. He heard her sigh. And he closed his eyes. "Sorry…" he muttered.
…and he felt her arms around his waist. "S'okay. It's a lot, isn't it?" she rested her head in between his shoulder blades.
"Yes," he swallowed.
"You're allowed to feel this way. But you're not allowed to dictate my schedule," she kissed his back through his dressing gown. "And we still have loads of time…"
He smiled. "You have a point," and he turned toward her.
Molly opened his dressing gown and trailed kisses up his chest….his breath came quick, and he opened her dressing gown, and threw in on the floor…he claimed her mouth and lifted her into a wrap around him. He carried her to the sofa and laid her down…he was hovering over her, taking her nipple in his mouth, her back arching in response, when he realized he had no condoms out in the sitting room. "Damn," he said, standing up.
"What's wrong?"
"Be right back," and he ran to the bedroom to get one.
"Sherlock…" Molly was sitting up when he returned. "When was the last time you were checked?"
"Checked?" he took off his pants.
"For…disease? I took that blood not long ago…ran the labs. But you haven't had sex or used since, have you?"
"No…" he saw what she was getting at. "But Molly…"
"I'm on an IUD, you know."
He swallowed. He had never had sex sans a condom…
"I'm clean," she smiled.
"I'm sure," and he looked away.
"We don't have to."
His arousal was depleting somewhat at this conversation. He sat back. "Of course I'd love to, but I'm quite weary of unintended pregnancy and other related concerns."
"As you should be."
He looked at her. And yes, he had been tested a very short time ago, and repeatedly over the years. Using with a needle made it necessary. And then sex with a for hire dominatrix, though always with protection, also made it advisable. Though he never dreamed that it would come to this…discussing the possibility of sex without a condom with Molly Hooper. He blanched a bit. "Can we…?"
"What?" she touched his arm.
…and he looked at her, naked, beautiful, sitting on his sofa, her knees up to her chin. He swallowed. And he thought of being inside of her without obstruction…"Are you quite certain it's safe?"
"Well, yes. I am."
He nodded…and he leaned over, pulling her into a deep kiss. And he pushed her back into the sofa, settling in between her legs. And he was ready, he reached down and felt for her readiness, which she was…and he took a deep breath…
…and slid inside of her.
He gasped.
Her embrace was unlike anything he had ever experienced…no high could compare…he moved, and let out a groan, and Molly squealed, and that was enough…his pace quickened, and before he knew what was happening, he had filled her.
"Molly Hooper you shall be the end of me," he pulled out and rested his face on her sternum.
"I hope not," she ran her fingers through his hair. "Budge up, I need to use the loo."
"But you didn't…"
"Don't worry about me," she smiled. "Later," and she stood.
He sat up, rubbing his face with his hands.
Perhaps it was best that she went to work that evening. He was beginning to feel as though he had lost complete control over himself.
And he didn't mind in the least.