Authoress' Notes:

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"Since paleolithic times, people like bright, shiny stuff." My Western Civ teacher, re: why Vikings wanted to take your silver and gold. True facts, man.

So! There are two roughly defined universes within my mind, occasionally overlapping or clashing, so far as Holmes is concerned. One is the dark, violent, borderline-dystopian situation I generally write, but the other, this one, is a younger, happier place. It's my fluff-verse. It's the world where Watson and Holmes cuddle every night and Mary and Irene don't mind, and Coward tries to fix Blackwood's hair, and Blackwood's secretly a sucker for puppy dog eyes. I like this world. It's a WAFF kinda place to be.

Dedicated to unsettledfic on LiveJournal, for that crazy amazing, two-and-a-half hour fandom ramble last night/this morning. Four hours of sleep = not super-fun, but in this case, so worth it.

Disclaimer: If I owned it, the gay would be way more obvious.




"W-what?" Nicholas asks, blushing violently, and Henry allows a lazy grin to creep over his face at the sight. They're in Nicholas'-- Lord Coward's-- office at Parliament, enjoying a drink together, and Henry just asked a harmless little question.

"Buggery," he repeats. "You know, sodomy?" As Nicholas continues to sputter incoherently, Henry adds, quite helpfully, "You know, the one where your cock goes into his arse?" At this, Nicholas lets out a squeak.

"Henry, what you're... I mean..." His splutters and sputters grow progressively more severe as Henry begins laughing. "Henry, that's... it's illegal, it's immoral, it's wrong, depraved, uncivilized, and I... and I don't even see how..."

Henry is laughing so hard he's having trouble breathing. "Nicholas," he chokes out between heaving gasps, "I'm just talking about a little fun, that's all. So, I'd guess that's a 'no, Henry, I've never buggered a man' then? Suppose you're never been buggered either, hm?"

Nicholas is absolutely scarlet now, and he's looking hurt and confused. "I-I don't... why is it any business of yours, anyways? And why... what... why is it so funny?"

Henry tries to reply, he really does, but Nicholas' look of confusion is just so damned cute, he can't help himself, and he falls back into helpless fits of giggles. Don't tell anyone that, though-- spread the rumor that the high and mighty Lord Blackwood giggles and oh, you will pay. Nicholas stands from his armchair, lip trembling slightly, and moves to the other side of the room, back to Henry. Henry realizes that Nicholas is taking this far more seriously than he intended, and he stands too, moving behind the man. "Nicholas," he says, but the man is determinedly staring at his bookshelf, apparently fascinated by a Latin dictionary, and Henry snorts. "You do realize I'm not buying this whole 'my bookshelf is the most interesting place on the planet' thing, right?"

Nicholas twitches, still looking away, and says quietly, "Then stop laughing at me. Just because I don't share your... your perversions, Henry..."

Henry steps closer, and now his chest is brushing the soft blackness of Nicholas' coat. "Are you sure?"

Nicholas spins around, glaring, but seems thrown at finding himself so close to the other man, and he blinks silently up at Henry. Henry's never been this close to Nicholas' eyes. They're a clearer blue than he realized, and incredibly beautiful. Henry smiles. "Yes?"

He's blushing again. "I... listen, I just don't..." But Henry is leaning closer, smirking, and Nicholas' protests are giving way to ragged breaths. When the kiss starts, Henry completely expects the younger man to pull away, perhaps panicking, perhaps furious, but he feels vindicated, somehow, when Nicholas closes his eyes, and his moan vibrates through their lips. He feels a fluttering curl of excitement in his stomach when a slender body presses against his, and when Nicholas leans up on his tiptoes and deepens the kiss, excited and sloppy and sweet, hugging Henry around the back of his neck, Henry thinks he might die from the exhilaration of it all.

Nicholas leans back and his eyes open, flickering back and forth between Henry's, and the way he bites his lip nervously and swallows loudly (or maybe quietly, and they're just that close to each other) makes Henry smile again-- or is that the fluttery feeling at work again? "You were saying?" he asks softly, and Nicholas lets out a short, breathless laugh.

"Never mind," he whispers, slipping his arms away from Henry and looking down at the floor. A smile is dancing around his lips, and Henry steps back towards the chairs, smirking again.

"So," he asks, sitting back down, "still not interested in talking about buggery?"


Phweee, I hope you liked it-- I think I have a cavity from the fluff. XD

Please review!