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The Opposite of Afterglow, Redux

Title: The Opposite of Afterglow, Redux
Author: Ella Jane ([info]roquentine)
Word Count: ~680
Rating: PG, barely
Pairing: Kind of Sherlock/John, Mycroft/Lestrade. Kind of.
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None
Sequel to: The Opposite of Afterglow. (Prompt: "Sherlock. John. Mycroft. Lestrade. One bed.") You may want to give that a quick read first. In checking the date of the old one, I appear to be posting these at the rate of one a year.

PSA:  Light text on a dark background can spoil afterglows of all sorts. Click here to read in your own LJ format.

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Lestrade: I simply do not understand why this keeps happening.Collapse )


Sherlock is an egoist, not a narcissist. He thinks he is more important than everyone else, but he doesn’t think he is more beautiful.

Except when he is wearing a tuxedo.

When he is wearing a tuxedo, he is stunning, fucking breathtaking, and he knows it. Every reflective surface catches his eye, and he is completely unable to look away unless and until either he or the reflective surface is forced to move. Every mirror, every window, every bloody piece of silverware becomes an irresistible object.

It’s why all his protestations about fancy dress are so laughable. He complains about having to go to Mycroft’s event to deduce what he can about the illicit activities of the Belgian prime minister’s secretary (Anthea can only be so many places at once) but John nearly has to drag him by the arm from the full-length mirror in the bedroom or they’ll be late.

Back at home, at the end of the night, they’re barely inside the door before John has him pushed against the wall. Sherlock looks momentarily startled.

“You’re not the only one who thinks you look hot in a tux,” John mutters. In an instant, his hands are on Sherlock’s head, bringing him down for a long-awaited kiss, full of heat and impatience.

“John...” Sherlock breathes into his mouth. He pulls away for a moment, his eyes heavy-lidded, his pupils wide and dark, but still shining with need. There’s a question there, a request, and John can’t help but grin. He knows what Sherlock wants.

“Yeah, of course.” John wrenches one last groaning kiss from Sherlock’s delectable mouth, then drops to his knees, angling their bodies so Sherlock has a clear view in the dark reflection of the window.

Sherlock’s not sure he even blinks until it’s over.

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“What are we doing here again?”
“Catching a criminal, John.”
“Doesn’t seem like it.”
One minute passes.
“I’m bored.”
“You’re never bored.”
“I am now.”
“John, this is important.”
“Nothing is happening, nothing is going to happen. It’s bucketing rain. Even criminals don’t enjoy doing crime in the rain.”
“This one might.”
“Then he’s the most annoying criminal alive. Where did you even get this van?”
“Lestrade lent it to me."
One second passes.
"Well, I say ‘lent’.”
Two minutes pass.
“John, what are you doing?”
“That is patently untrue. Your hand is on my leg.”
“Is it?”
“Now it’s... John, really, we have to...”
“No we don’t, I’m telling you. Nothing is going to happen tonight... Well, not out there, anyway.”
“John, I need to focus.”
“Don’t mind me.”
“I can’t focus with your hand in my trousers.”
“Sure you can. You’re brilliant. Your brain is vastly superior to the rest of ours. You told me so.”
“Yes, but some reactions can’t be contro... JOHN.”
“Get back in your seat, please.”
“No. You can see over me.”
“That’s not the point.”
“Just be quiet, for once.”
“John, I.... oh...”
Two minutes pass, at the end of which they both make rather unintelligible sounds. Then:
“I can’t believe you just did that.”
“I can’t believe you only lasted two minutes. I’m not sure if I should be flattered or insulted.”
“Flattered. Trust me, you should be flattered. But you realize of course that because you couldn’t control yourself, we have to come back tomorrow.”
“He escaped.”
“What? You saw him?”
“Yes, but I was otherwise engaged.”
“I’m not sure I believe you.”
“That makes no difference. Same time, tomorrow night, right back here.”
“I might have to distract you again.”
One second passes as the curtain behind the seats slides open.
“Then I might have to arrest you for public lewdness.”
One minute passes while John stares at Lestrade, then Sherlock, then Lestrade. Then Sherlock. Then straight out the window.
Seven hundred and ninety-three minutes pass before John begins speaking to Sherlock again.

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Sherlock follows John into the flat, and thinks that if he hears the other man say one word, one well-intentioned but devastatingly unwelcome word trying to comfort him, he will climb the walls, crawl out of his skin, explode with frustration.

The fact is that he missed something, some small detail somewhere failed to process, and because of that, a woman is dead and a man has escaped and he can't hear one word, not one single deplorable word, about how it wasn't really his fault, he mustn’t blame himself.

When he's the only one who could have stopped it, and he didn't, yes, it is his fault, and any attempts to convince him otherwise only remind him that John doesn't understand, and that particular chasm kills him a little inside every time he is reminded of it.

Sherlock sees John open his mouth and he can't hear it, he simply cannot hear it, and so he launches himself in the direction of that mouth and covers it with his own. He ignores attempted protestations of surprise, prevents them from becoming words, horrible words, and deepens his kiss, holding on to John's head, transmitting his desperation through tongue and teeth and breath, don't say anything, please, don't say anything.

John forces them apart and stares at Sherlock for a long moment. Sherlock stares back. Please, please, if you say anything I will lose it, I will box my own ears, I will tear at my hair... please...

A moment passes in deafening silence, a silence Sherlock needs in order to exist right now. Eventually John reaches up again, kisses him hotly and pulls at clothing and maneuvers them into the bedroom, all without one despicable word.

More moments pass, there is skin on skin, heat and pressure and control and a powerful release he doesn’t deserve but cannot deny, and it all happens without words.

Later, still in silence and darkness, Sherlock feels the shallow exhalations reach the back of his neck and realizes that John does understand, maybe not everything, maybe not why, exactly, but he understands more than anyone else ever has.

Without any goddamned words at all.

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FIC: The Opposite of Afterglow

Title: The Opposite of Afterglow
Author: Ella Jane (roquentine)
Word Count: ~600
Rating: PG, barely
Pairing: Kind of Sherlock/John, Mycroft/Lestrade. Kind of.
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None
A/N: I read a cracky prompt on the kink meme ("Sherlock. John. Mycroft. Lestrade. In one bed.") and this sprung into my brain nearly fully formed. Which is so bizarre, because I never write crack. I do now, apparently!

PSA:  Light text on a dark background can spoil afterglows of all sorts. Click here to read in your own LJ format.

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This only works if you know how they’re arranged. So if you’re standing at the foot of the bed looking at them... (you need a minute, don’t you..... okay, come on back!) from your left to your right: Mycroft, Lestrade, Sherlock, John.

John: There are too many people in this bed.Collapse )

Fic: Nothing Else

Title: Nothing Else
Author: Ella Jane (roquentine)
Word Count: ~1600
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None
A/N: I stayed in a hotel room in Baltimore, banged my foot on something, and a fic was born. Pour a cocktail, it's a mood piece. Dedicated to my Sister Fitches with love and admiration. I bow down to your awesomeness.

PSA: Not everyone grooves on light text with a dark background. Click here to read the entry in your own LJ format.

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They"re finished, but he cannot separate, not yet...Collapse )

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Fic: Undivided Attention

Title: Undivided Attention
Author: Ella Jane
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: John/Sherlock
Word Count: 483
A/N: Originally written for a songfic challenge, but let us not pretend that I even remotely followed the rules. Therefore, this is vaguely inspired by "Little of Your Time" by Maroon 5.

Please don"t leave, stay in bed, touch my body instead...Collapse )

un love you prompt table

01.You were right about me. 02.I was wrong about you. 03.This cancels out the hurt.
04.I need to want you. 05.You can be like me. 06.I want to need you.
07.Prove it. 08.I'm cruel. 09.Always wondered what this'd be like.
10.I'm broken. 11.Thought I needed this. 12.I'm drunk.
13.I want to hurt you. 14.I'm awake and you're breathing. 15.This is my desperation in action.
16.I want to break you. 17.Wish I didn't love you. 18.I pity you.
19.This isn't about you at all. 20.I hate you, you bitch. 21.You'll do.
22.I hate myself. 23.You remind me of me. 24.I want you to hate me.
25.You remind me of someone. 26.I can be like you.27. Author's Choice.
28.Author's Choice. 29.Author's Choice. 30.Author's Choice.

Fic: Everyone Has One

Title: Everyone Has One
Author: roquentine 
Paring: Sherlock/John
Rating: NC-17
Warning: Knife kink
Word Count:
A/N: Originally written for this prompt at the kink meme. 'Twas a fill quick and dirty, so I've reworked it considerably to clarify some POV issues and give John a little context. And redo the clothes bit. And fix some other stuff.

PSA: I know not everyone digs light text on a dark background. Click here to read the entry in your own LJ format.

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No sight should surprise him...Collapse )

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Sentire: The Cover and the Mix

I'm actually feeling quite bereft now that the story is over and done with, so I have a couple of post-script goodies for you!

First of all, completely unsolicited, laurab1 made a gorgeous cover for the story! It is really quite lovely, and I'm so grateful to her. But instead of using it as a cover for the story, I'm using it as a cover for: the Sentire mix!

Okay, basically, once someone else does something, I'm all, Oooh! Shiny! Must try that! So this was me indulging that, trying to figure out if I could put a mix together, zip it, upload it, and make it work. (invisible_lift beta tested this thing for me as well. I know. God help him, really.)

So, it's kind of random, and not everything is on the nose lyric-wise. Some of them just sound like the story to me. Who knows why things associate themselves in my warped little brain... :)

The songs are in alpha order, basically because I am lame at arranging things. Track listing and download link under the cut. Even if you have no interest in the music, please open the cut anyway to see laurab1's lovely artwork! :) Enjoy!


Fic: Sentire (9/9)

Title: Sentire (9/9)
Author: Ella Jane
Characters: Nine/Rose, Jack
Chapter Rating: PG-13
Series Rating: NC-17
Timeline: AU from The Doctor Dances
A/N: And then we came to the end. :) Thank you all SO MUCH for your brilliant, insightful comments and feedback. After languishing on my hard drive for months on end, finally posting this story was far more rewarding than I ever thought it would be. I can't thank invisible_lift  enough for trudging through it multiple times, improving it beyond measure with each pass. Please see the note at the end about the reaction post. :)

PSA: Light text on a dark background can make good fic go bad. Click here to view the entry in your own journal format.

x-posted to dwfiction, time_and_chips, and better_with_3, and archived at Teaspoon.

part one | part two | part three | interlude | part four | part five | part six | part seven | part eight

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sentire: (L.) experience, feel, perceive, see, think, realize, understand.

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P.S.: REACTION POST! I have posted a placeholder entry for a reaction/discussion post here. I'd be thrilled if you wanted to check it out over the next couple of days, now that you've read the whole story, to let me know generally what you liked and what you didn't. You can jump in with feedback about anything whenever you want, and I'll be adding some of my own commentary-ish notes shortly. Please don't be shy about constructive criticism, as you cannot hurt my feelings -- all it'll do is make me a better writer. :)  And of course, if you have any specific questions, feel free to ask in the comments as well!

Thank you so much for reading!

Sentire: Reaction Post

This is the place for any comments you'd like to make about the Sentire series as a whole. I really appreciate your feedback, and I welcome all comments, both positive and negative.

My initial notes, just bits and pieces in no particular order (and possibly completely unintelligble), are under the cut, and I will add to them as we go along.


sherlock bw
Ella Jane

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