The Games Afoot

Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I own nothing here.

Warning: Mild Slash

I dropped my gaze from Holmes to the floor as I desperately tried to hide the sudden heat rushing to my cheeks. What on Earth is going on here? What is he on about? What does this mean? I finally managed to lift my gaze to meet the smirking face of Holmes. With the battle in my head raging on, I lost my concentration. Holmes silently dealt out the cards, as I cast him glances out of the corner of my eye every few moments. I placed my bet not really noticing how rubbish my hand was, he called.

" 3 pair Watson, there's no way you've got me beat this time." Holmes said slyly.

"You're right" I replied sheepishly as I turned over my cards, they were a bust. I simply sat there for a moment looking at him. He pulled the chips towards himself, then looked at me expectantly, and coughed. I stared at him; my heart hammering as I slowly loosened my tie and laid it across the back of the chair.

"Shall we continue?" I almost whispered.

"Of course my dear Watson," Holmes answered with a smile.

The game continued, and nearly half an hour later there I sat still wearing my shirt, pants, and jacket. I had simply been required to remove my hat, tie, belt, and socks. Holmes on the other hand sat shivering in his chair wearing nothing but his boxers. Every time my eyes lifted from my cards, they traveled to his well defined chest. I had always thought of Holmes as a slight man, but after the shock of watching him slowly removed his shirt, I had come to realize that I had been wrong. The muscles of his shoulders and chest were tensed as he shivered; I followed their movement as my eyes travelled lower to his stomach. It was flat, and muscular. All I wanted to do was run my nails along it as I let my other hand entwine in his thick, black, hair. I blushed suddenly as his slight cough brought me back to reality. He's straight, he's straight, he's straight. I repeated to myself.

"Watson, is something…on your mind?" Holmes asked "you've become more and more distant since we started…" he continued.

I desperately wanted to say that he was on my mind, but I held my tongue.

"No, no Holmes it's nothing, I just don't really feel like playing anymore I suppose." I replied and stood up.

This of course was a lie. I desperately wanted to continue playing. But, I didn't trust myself to remain calm if I happened to win one more hand. It would be impossible to hide my feelings then.

"Oh," Holmes said sounding… disappointed? "Well, why not?" He asked as he too stood.

"Well, you're cold enough as it is, are you not?" I answered grinding my teeth and looking down, trying desperately to hide the truth.

"Of course I am," Holmes replied calmly. There was a pause "But the problem is you're not." He mumbled.

I looked up just in time to see a red tint on his cheeks. He met my eyes as my mouth dropped. In my head the battle raged on, but this time I decided something must be done.

"Suppose I lost another round…" I whispered, unsure.

I proceeded to remove my coat slowly, watching for a reaction in his eyes. I was almost certain that they lit up slightly and followed the movement of my arms.

"And perhaps another…" I continued. I turned and walked to the window. I'm insane… I thought. I couldn't bear to look at him, I was embarrassed. I felt a little bit lost; these were uncharted territories so to speak. I slowly began to unbutton my shirt, and let it fall to the ground. I turned, inhaling sharply, unsure of myself yet again.

Holmes' eyes widened visibly as his eyes travelled across my body, and then suddenly he moved lithely across the room, closing the distance between us and pressed his hands against my chest, shoving me against the wall roughly. There were mere inches between us. My breathing came low and ragged, anticipating what Holmes might do. He looked deep into my eyes for a moment as if questioning me. He nodded slightly as if he had found his answer and closed the final distance between us, as our lips finally met.

It was then that I allowed myself to indulge in the one of the many fantasies I had about Holmes. My nails raked across his chest and down his stomach, while my other hand entwined in his thick, black, hair. He shivered, but this time it had nothing to do with being cold, heat was everywhere. I pulled him closer to me and pressed his lips harder to mine frantically. Our tongues battled for supremacy, and I won out, my suppressed passion for him overcoming me. After a few moments we broke apart. Holmes rested his forehead against mine, panting.

"John," he whispered my Christian name, his voice husky. "You have no idea how long I've been wanting to do that."

"I think I do Holmes," I whispered back, "I think I do…" and I pulled him across the room to the couch where we collapsed into another fury of passion.

FIN

(A/N) Reviews greatly appreciated!