"Sherlock, what's going on? What are you doing?"
Sherlock pushed her into the large en suite once they made it to their bedroom, turning on both the shower and the sink taps. "I give up," he says, dropping to his knees, looking up at her pleadingly. "I give up. Can I touch you?"
Eve's grip on the side of the bathtub became almost painful. "What? You've been touching me all weekend–"
"Evelyn," his tone was hoarse. "Can. I. Touch. You?" His pupils were blown wide, chest heaving, tongue jotting out to wet his lips as they parted. "I won't do anything without your consent. Please, tell me."
Evelyn realised something in that moment. Sherlock Holmes was quite literally begging her, on his knees, to have some kind of physical contact. She had no idea what the hell had gotten into him, but felt like she might just die on the spot if he didn't touch her. "Yes," she breathed at him. "Yes, you can touch me."
"Oh thank god." Sherlock was immediately pushing at the material of her thin summer dress, fingers slipping inside the hem of her knickers to pull them down then lifted each leg to remove them and toss them behind him. He pressed his face into her stomach, kissing downward until he reached the skin of her mons pubis.
She gasped when a finger slipped against her folds from behind. "This is such a bad idea."
Sherlock had the audacity to chuckle. "This is the best idea I've had in months."
She tapped his head, already struggling to catch her breath in anticipation. "Wait, Sherlock... Are we really doing this?"
He looked up at her, his eyes earnest, but she could see a flicker of anxiety. "If you'll have me." He was worried she'd reject him.
"I've wanted you forever." She admitted with a breathy laugh, threading her fingers into the hair behind his ear.
Sherlock moved into her touch, eyes fluttering closed. "Oh, Evelyn, you have no idea."
Before she could respond, he tugged her down to sit on the baths edge, spread her knees, and his mouth closed on her swollen bundle of nerves. She fell forward slightly, using a hand on his shoulder to stay upright. She didn't expect him to jump straight to using his mouth. "Jesus fuck–"
Sherlock was unrelenting in his attention to her wet centre, occasionally slipping a finger inside her only to pull it away again before she could get any satisfaction. She was already a panting mess, but needed a release soon before she went mad. Using the one tactic she knows to work, she yanked on his hair, and this time it was hard.
He gave a guttural moan, staring up at her like a deer in headlights. "You need to stop." His eyes seemed to widen, worrying he'd taken it too far or that she wanted to end this all together, but she smiled lazily to try and ease the panic in his features. "Stop teasing. If you don't let me come soon I might collapse from exhaustion."
Sherlock suddenly looked ridiculously giddy. "I can't help it, you taste incredible." Eve almost turned into a puddle, jumping when he hoisted her leg over his shoulder, pushed her dress up to her waist, and dived back into fucking her with his tongue.
Just as he inserted two long digits and started to pump them slowly, a voice broke the air.
"Sherlock?" It was John.
Eve's eyes were wide as she looked towards the sound of the voice on the other side of the wall. "Did you lock the door?" She whispered harshly.
Sherlock pulled his head back to glance at the door. Evelyn whimpered at the loss of contact.
John knocked. "I'll just come in if you don't answer me."
The door handle creaked. "NO!" Sherlock bellowed. "No!"
"Are you okay? Where's Eve?"
Sherlock glanced between the woman he's currently buried his hand inside of and the unlocked bathroom door. "Do NOT open the door."
"Are you–"
He growled. Actually growled. "I'm currently trying to give my girlfriend an orgasm, can you please, for the love of god, go away!"
John seemed to splutter then. "What?! It's only me, you don't have to–"
"JOHN WATSON!"
"Alright, tetchy, Mary said Eve was upset so I just–"
Sherlock curled his fingers while pressing on her bundle of nerves with a calloused thumb. She shrieked, face hot with embarrassment, biting down on her arm. Sherlock smiled encouragingly. "That should prove you're no longer upset."
"Oh god, don't stop." She used the leg over his shoulder to encourage his face back to her. He complied happily, sucking against her while continuing to increase the speed of his fingers.
"Fucking hell– I'm gone!" By the sound of thuds on the floorboards, it seemed John Watson was literally running away.
Sherlock laughed against her.
"Sher– Sherlock.. I'm going to– Oh fuck fuck–"
"Say my name," he commanded, looking up at her, wanting to see every expression on her face. "Come for me, say my name."
She locked eyes with him, watching the way his eager mouth lapped up at her, and she was ruined. "Sherlock, Sherlock... Fuck, auhhh... Sherlock!"
He continued to guide Eve through her orgasm, licking up every last drop of her, slowly stopping his ministrations, kissing and nipping at her thighs. He watched her head lull back then forward, and the grip she had in his hair began to ease. "Are you alright?"
She opened her eyes to see him licking his fingers clean and she felt like she might actually burst into tears at how erotic it was. "What was that?"
"The best orgasm you've ever had?"
Evelyn looked shy. "Seriously... Why did you–"
Sherlock got to his feet slowly, immediately cupping her face delicately in both hands as if she was the most precious thing he's ever seen. "I gave up trying to stop myself." Eve gives him a funny look. He sighs. "I've wanted to do that for a long time. I've wanted to do more than that, less than that, everything in between... for a long time."
"You have?"
"Mm. Does that explain things?"
"Not entirely," she laughs. "But it'll do for now," she looks down at the tented material of his trousers. "My turn?" Eve wriggles an arm between them and cups him.
His head drops against her shoulder. "Fuck– Evie.. We can't."
She looks almost sad, immediately overthinking as a million different thoughts whirled through her mind, and Sherlock decided there and then he would endeavour to do anything it takes to wipe that look from her face for as long they're acquainted.
"I want to," he said quickly. "You have no idea how much I want to."
"Then why–"
"I fear if we stay away for much longer they'll send an entire search party, and John has probably already caused a stir, he might have even collapsed." He drops his head to hers, breathing her in. "I'll have to sit in here and think about how the sun functions."
Evelyn laughs, wrapping her arms around his neck. "You called me Evie."
"Did I?" He smiles. "Hm. Evie. My Evie. I like it."
Her breath caught, staring into him. "Mary will be furious you've taken her nickname."
"Oddly enough, I can't find it within me to care."
She tipped her chin, catching his mouth. He sighed against her, holding her closer. "You're going to have to go out and make excuses," he kissed her again, coaxing her mouth open. "Hmm. You really need to go now before I push you into that shower and have my wicked way with you. We'll never get out of here."
The small moan that fell from her made him shiver, but she pulled back. "We have a lot to talk about."
"I know." Another brief kiss. "Later."
Eve nod, slipping out of his hold, immediately missing the contact and feel of him. She glanced around the floor. "Where are my knickers?"
"Ah." When she turned to face him, he had her nice, brand new, lacy underwear hanging off the end of one long finger, sopping wet. He turned the sink taps off. "Not sure you can put these back on."
"Wonderful," she moved to open the door. "Good job we're in our room so I can change."
"Yes. Sorry about that, wanted to try drown any noises out," he followed her, leaning against the doorframe. "Figured you might appreciate not exposing those delightful little sounds you make to my entire family."
"You'd be right," she turned to him, blushing profusely. "Not sure the water did much. Think I might have been louder," she fiddled with his collar. "You really want me to go down there without you? What if they did hear me quite literally screaming your name?"
Sherlock puffed out his chest proudly. "Then tell the truth, I don't care, but might be pushing my luck if I come down with this." He gestured to the prominent bulge outlined in his trousers.
"I could have dealt with it," she raised an eyebrow. "And be careful, if you get anymore smug your shirt buttons will pop." She moved over to kiss him again, pressing against him and running her nails along his neck.
Sherlock moaned deeply. "You've got to stop or I'll ruin my trousers."
"Really?" She grinned, cheeks red.
He chuckled. "Now who's smug?"
"Shut up. I'll get some pants and go," she walked to their bags and bent down to pull out some fresh underwear. "Just... think boring thoughts?"
"Fucking hell." He made a sound from deep within his gut, causing Evelyn to look over her shoulder at him. His eyelids were heavy, chest heaving with every breath, and his palm was pushing uncomfortably on his trousers.
"Wha–" she realised then what he was looking at. No pants. Bent over. "Oh."
He actually laughed, shaking his head. "I'm never going to be able to control myself again."
———
He's been counting the seconds since Evelyn disappeared. She'd excused herself from the room quietly twenty two minutes ago and it was starting to make him anxious.
She'd seemed fine, chipper even, when he finally made his reappearance downstairs. She'd been stood with his Uncle Rudy and Mary, a fresh glass of wine in one hand and Rosie Watson in the other. Mary had given him a smile of approval and he nod in response, making his way across the room to stand with them.
"Hey," he'd slid his arm across her waist, pressing a kiss to her temple. "You okay?"
"Never better," she'd said, beaming up at him so brightly he'd wanted to take her off into another room again. Family be damned.
John had grabbed him five minutes later, practically dragging him to stand by the front door where no one could listen in to their conversation.
"What the hell?!" He'd whispered harshly.
"Whatever is the problem?" Sherlock was nonchalant, hands stuffed into his pockets.
"Did you–" He'd stopped, rolling his shoulders. "Were you and–"
"Spit it out, John."
"Did you shag Eve in the middle of your father's birthday party?"
Sherlock was greatly amused at the smaller mans discomfort. "Well, I performed cunnilingus–"
"AH! La la la!"
His eyes had rolled. "You asked."
"A simple 'yes' would've been suffice."
"But that would have been false, the term 'shag' was inaccurate. We didn't have enough time to have intercourse–"
"Enough!" John sighed. "I get the picture."
Sherlock smirked. "I hope you don't."
That conversation was half an hour ago now, and the last time he'd seen Eve was when she'd kissed his cheek and told him she'd 'be right back'.
Sherlock walked away from the chattering of others without saying a word, strolling with purpose down the corridor and popping his head into the kitchen.
"She's not in here, little brother." Mycroft sat at the small table, swirling a dribble of brandy around a glass. "I believe I saw her step outside."
"Have you said anything to her?"
Mycroft frowned. "Such as?"
Sherlock rocked on his feet. "Something to scare her off."
"Brother dear, I don't think I could say anything to that woman that would deter her from being around you." He tipped his head. "Fix it. Whatever it is she's upset about, fix it, and fast."
As surprised as Sherlock was at Mycrofts reaction, he simply nod in thanks to his older sibling, reversing on himself to swing the back door open.
It was getting dark now, the lights in the garden already on from the lack of sunlight. Sherlock had imagined more guests would be out here to enjoy the longer evenings, but there was a slight chill and the punch bowls were inside. His Auntie Margaret certainly wouldn't survive being away from those for too long.
The minute Sherlock stepped outside he saw her and he didn't hesitate to cross the grass, climbing up the wooden ladder without a second thought, ignoring the creak it gave under his weight.
She didn't say a word as he sat down, letting his legs hang over the edge to mimic hers and shuffling so their thighs touched. "So," he started. "Stressed or inebriated?"
She smiled up at the sky, releasing the smoke and leaning into his shoulder, pushing gently. "Bit of both."
He watched her carefully. "I'm sorry."
"What for?"
"Making you do this."
She shrugged, offering him the cigarette. He took it gladly. "You didn't make me do anything."
He hummed in response. "I did a bit."
She moved the ashtray next to him. "You can finish that, I think I'm finally going off them."
He got the impression she was trying to stop him from being able to speak, so he took one long drag then stabbed it out. "Where did you find this?" He asked, tapping the tray.
"Up here," she gestured to the tree house. "Weren't you a naughty boy."
He laughed heartily. "I suppose I was." He looked down at her hand clinging to the wooden edge, moving his along her wrist and lifting it to press his fingers into the gaps between her own, she didn't protest the action and he took that as a good sign. "We could leave."
Evelyn finally looked at him. "We're leaving tomorrow."
"We could leave now. Get in the car and go."
"Your parents have been lovely to me, I'd feel awful."
Sherlock moved her hand within his palms, tracing the bones along the back of it, then clasping it between both of his. "Is that why you're out here? My parents have been kind and you feel... Sad? For misleading them?"
She shrugged. "I'm not sad. I'm just..."
He counted each bone in her palm, delicately repeating the attention he had given the back of her hand. "Evelyn, we should probably talk."
"We are talking."
He gave her a stern glance. "You know what I mean."
She sighed heavily, pressing her lips together. "I don't want you to ruin it."
"I have no intention of ruining it." She looked up at him from under her lashes and Sherlock wanted nothing more than to freeze this moment with her. "You really are so beautiful."
Eve inhaled sharply, turned her head and pressed upwards, taking his lips with her own. Sherlock reacted immediately, gripping the back of her head to encourage her into him. She moved quickly, slipping a leg over his, settling herself on his lap. He moaned into her mouth as she pressed against him, tangling his fingers through her hair.
When he tried to pull back she bit into his bottom lip. "Evie..." His hand moved to cup a breast over her clothes and she gasped, leaning into him. Sherlock dropped his head against hers and twisted his neck, separating their mouths, breathing heavily. "Stop."
Evelyn froze, her breathing no better than his. She moved to climb off him but he held her in place, gripping her arms.
"We need to talk." His words ghosted over her lips as they shared oxygen, heads resting together.
She shuddered. "So you keep saying."
"Why are you terrified of what I might say?" She didn't respond, but didn't make another attempt to move either. "I don't understand what's wrong, I thought... I thought I had given you enough proof towards how I feel. I'm not so delusional that I wouldn't realise there will be more conversations to have but," he brushed hair from her face, holding it gently. "Tell me what you need me to do."
"I love you." It came out like a sob. "I've loved you for a while." She expected him to move away, to make the usual scoffing noise when someone was being stupid, but he didn't. When she looked up at him, his eyes held onto hers with such intensity it made her want to look away again. "I guess I need to know this isn't just... lust to you."
"Don't assume to know my mind," he said softly, echoing words he'd said to his brother yesterday. It was intentional. "Or my feelings."
She took a deep breath. "So Mycroft...?"
Sherlock smiled nervously. "He told me I was going to fuck this up. The pretending, he said it would ruin our friendship and any potential we had to take it farther."
"Huh." Evelyn gave a little surprised laugh. "His issue really wasn't with me."
"Any negativity towards you was to spite me. He knew it would get me wound up." Sherlock swallowed. "He was trying to prove his point."
"What about John? He said something that bothered you last night."
Sherlock traced his fingers along her spine while she played with the hair at his nape. "John thought I was attracted to you but nothing more, told me if I didn't leave you out of this I'd hurt you." He immediately relaxed as he felt the tension leave her body.
"So..."
"So," He smirked cockily. "We've agreed on this before. John is completely oblivious. Mary on the other hand..."
Eve was staring at him now, a crease forming on her forehead. "Does that mean what Mary said–"
"Is likely to be correct."
A smile spread across her face. "How likely?"
"I'd say about one hundred percent." He chuckled. "You don't need to be worried, we were never lying to my family."
"Never? You weren't–"
"No. Everything I did I wanted to do." He momentarily pressed his lips together. "I didn't intend on following through on my feelings. Admittedly, it wasn't until I kissed you this morning that I realised I was doomed. I got a taste of you and there was no going back," he shrugged. "Ever the addict, as they say." When she glares at him momentarily his face fell into a grimace. "Sorry." He brought her hand to his mouth, kissing the knuckles. "I have done nothing but imagine it for months. There hasn't been a day go by where I haven't thought about touching you in as many different ways as possible."
Evelyn was struggling to keep her breathing even. He was opening up to her so easily.
"And as clever as I am, I couldn't quite work out if you wanted me in return. I'm aware I've hurt you on more than one occasion, and I'm certain you've wanted to slap me for it, but you've always been kinder to me than I deserve, even when you've been furious. You're lovely and funny and kind. You're good." Sherlock took a heavy breath. "I'm not good, Eve, I'm just... not. I'm rude and untidy and egotistical. Quite frankly, I've never believed that I need anyone. I would make a terrible boyfriend," his voice softened until it matched the gentleness in his expression. "I'm convinced I won't make you happy. But I... I can't not want you, despite how I can't possibly fathom why you'd want me."
"Sherlock," she breathed, holding his face in her palms. "You're such an idiot."
He chortled, bumping their noses together. "After all those nice things I said."
"If I listed off everything I love about you, Sherlock Holmes, we'd be here until next week."
He tipped his chin forward, kissing her gently. "I don't mind."
She laughed, winding her arms around his neck. "Egotistical, seeing it now."
Sherlock watched her carefully. "I'm giving you an out. I'll hold no repercussion's against our friendship, nor will I expect you–"
"Oh, shut up, you silly sod." Then she was kissing him, properly, slow and deliberate. She was hoping he got the memo, that no matter how hard he tried she wouldn't be scared away from him.
His hands roamed to knead into her backside, relaxing against her. "Mm. I'm not sure I'll be able to control myself anymore."
Eve sighed blissfully when he started to leave open mouth kisses down her throat. "Better stop then."
"Yes. Stopping right now." His teeth grazed her pulse point, and just as he was about to slide his hand up her thigh, someone opened the garden door.
"There you are!" His mother called. "We've been wondering where you were, John was terrified to go upstairs in case you were occupied again–"
"Mother!" He groaned in despair, dropping his face to hide in Eve's neck.
Evelyn laughed awkwardly. "Sorry, Violet, we'll be down in a second."
"You'd better, we're going to do the cake!" She tutted fondly. "Honestly, can't survive one weekend without being all over each other. Reminds me of your father and I when we were young, Will!"
"Enough!" Sherlock scrabbled to stand up. "No more, I'm begging you. We're coming now!"