I WROTE A BEAUTIFUL FIC

A FIC FOR ALL OF YOU

IT IS PROBABLY MY MASTERPIECE

IF THIS TYPE OF STUFF ISN'T OK HERE I'M SORRY


BUT NOT THAT SORRY


TITLE: ~DARK HEARTS~
FANDOM: SHERLOCK HOLMES (2009 MOVIE VERSE)
RATING: XXX NC-17 NOT FOR CHILDREN BUT MOSTLY PG
WARNINGS: THIS IS MY MASTERWORK SO PLEASE BE GENTLE!!!!!
SUMMARY: WON'T HOTSON EVER TAKE HOLMES TO THE PROM
WARNINGS PART 2: IF YOU THINK I AM SERIOUS HERE YOU ARE ON CRACK, MORE CRACK THAN THIS "FIC", MORE CRACK THAN I WAS ON WHEN I WROTE IT



HOLMES WAS IN A DEEP DEPRESSION. HE SAT IN HIS ROOM, HIS SHIRT AND JACKET THROWN ASKEW. THE CURTAINS WERE DRAWN FOR HE COULD NOT STAND THE SUNSHINE. NOT NOW. HE REACHED SHAKILY FOR HIS SEVEN PER-CENT SOLUTION AND GAZED DESPAIREDLY DOWN AT HIS ALREADY TOURNIQUET-ED ARM. IT HAD BEEN THREE HOURS. THREE HOURS SINCE HOTSON HAD GONE ABOUT TOWN ON BUSINESS, AND HOLMES SIMPLY COULD NOT BARE IT ANY LONGER. FROM A DEEP DARK CORNER OF HIS DUSTY CLUTTERED ROOM HE HEARD GLADSTONE WHINE PITIFULLY.

"OH, OH, GLADSTONE, YOU ARE RIGHT, I AM A PATHETIC HUMAN, OH." TO WHICH GLADSTONE WHINED HIS ASSENT.

HOLMES INJECTED THE SOLUTION, THEN CAST THE SYRINGE ASIDE, SLUMPING DOWN ONTO THE FLOOR. "OH, OH." HE SNUFFLED, HIS COCAINE ADDLED BRAIN JUMPING TO PARANOID CONCLUSIONS. WHAT EVER COULD HOTSON BE DOING AT THIS, THE UNGODLY HOUR OF TWO O CLOCK IN THE AFTERNOON. HE WAS PROBABLY OUT WITH SOME TRAMPY WOMAN, LIKE HIS FIANCEE MARY, THAT TRAMP. HOW COULD HOTSON EVER MARRY ANYONE BUT HOLMES? THEY WERE PROBABLY OUT HAVING A GRAND OLD TIME, RIDING PONIES AND BUYING DIAMONDS AND EATING CAKE. "HE NEVER TOOK ME FOR DIAMOND PONY RIDES, GLADSTONE, HE NEVER DID!" HOLMES WAS TRULY IN QUITE A FRANTIC STATE BY THIS POINT, BIG SISSY TEARS ROLLING DOWN HIS STUBBLY UNSHAVEN BUT OH-SO-HANDSOME FACE.

"HOW COULD HE NOT WANT ME, GLADSTONE, FOR I KNOW I AM A ROGUE BUT I AM VERY HANDSOME AND NOT WITHOUT MY CHARMS. ROGUEISH MANLY CHARMS."

GLADSTONE MADE A SNUFFLY PUPPY DOG NOISE, AND PADDED OVER TO HOLMES ON THE FLOOR. HE SNIFFED AT HOLMES' FACE AND WHINED QUESTIONINGLY. HE REALLY WAS QUITE HUNGRY, AND GOD DAMN IF HOLMES EVER FED HIM ANYTHING BUT TREATS THAT KIND OF MADE HIM SICK AND SOMETIMES SLEEPY AND SOMETIMES TOOK HIM TO A WONDERFUL FANTASY LAND FULL OF COLOR. HE RATHER LIKED THE FANTASY LAND TREATS AND WANTED ANOTHER ONE, THE ADDICT. BUT HOLMES COULD NOT DEDUCE THIS, OH NO, FOR HE WAS SO VERY SAD. HE LOOKED AROUND HIS DIM DUSTY DARK CLUTTERED QUARTERS AND SNIFFLED PITIFULLY.

"OH GLADSTONE, YOU ARE RIGHT. I AM JUST NOT SUITED FOR LATE NINETEENTH CENTURY LADIE'S CLOTHING. WATSON WILL NEVER TAKE ME TO THE PROM."

THEN, IN HIS COKED OUT STATE, TEARS STILL FRESH ON HIS CHEEKS MAKING HIM APPEAR RATHER DASHINGLY FLUSHED AND SOULFUL, HE ROSE FROM HIS STATION ON THE DUSTY DARK RUG. HE KNEW WHAT HE MUST DO.

HE STUMBLED TO HIS VERY SPECIAL BOX, IN WHICH HE KEPT THE MOST GLORIOUS PROM DRESS JUST IN CASE HOTSON EVER TOOK HIM TO THE PROM. IT WAS PERHAPS 10 YEARS OUT OF FASHION, BUT DELIGHTFUL AND WHIMSICAL IT WAS. HOLMES DONNED IT OVER HIS TROUSERS AND UNDERSHIRT, AND WALTZED HIMSELF AROUND THE ROOM, WEEPING GENTLY TO HIMSELF AS THE PEACH ORGANZA AND TAFFETA SWIRLED AROUND HIM. THE SATIN FLOWERS THAT THE PERFECTLY TAILORED BODICE WAS ADORNED WITH GLIMMERED SADLY IN THE DARK AND RUSTLED AS HE MOVED, SURPRISINGLY GRACEFULLY FOR A COKED OUT MIDDLE AGED DETECTIVE.

"OH, WHERE IT THAT WATSON WAS WALTZING ME!" HOLMES CRIED INTO THE DANK DARK DUSTINESS OF HIS DARK DUSTY CLUTTERED ROOM.

HE HUMMED A SAD, SAD TUNE THAT HE PLAYED RATHER BEAUTIFULLY ON THE VIOLIN WHAT HE WAS SO SKILLED AT MANIPULATING INTO GORGEOUS WAILING TUNES OF DESPERATION AND UNREQUITED LOVE. HE WONDERED IF THEY PLAYED CHOPIN AT THE PROM. JUST THEN GLADSTONE DECIDED TO TRAMP OVER TO JOIN IN ON THE FUN OF DANCING. FOR GLADSTONE WAS A WILD BOY, AND RATHER ENJOYED DANCING. HOWEVER, HOLMES DID NOT DEDUCE THAT GLADSTONE WAS THAT SORT OF CARD, AND WAS SO CAUGHT UP IN HIS COCAINE HALLUCINATION FANTASY OF BEING WALTZED AT THE PROM IN HIS GORGEOUS PEACH GOWN THAT MADE HIS SKIN SEEM TO GLOW EVEN IN THE DIM FILTERED BARELY THERE LIGHT OF HIS ROOM.

"OH! GLADSTONE!" HOLMES CRIED AS HE TRIPPED OVER THE POOR DOGFELLOW. HE TOPPLED TO THE FLOOR IN A FLURRY OF PEACH FRILLS. GLADSTONE WHINED AND YELPED UNDER THE WEIGHT OF HOLMES, SO THE DETECTIVE DEDUCED THAT HE WAS HURTING THE POOR PUP. HE ROLLED OFF OF HIM, CREATING A COCOON OF TAFFETA AND TULLE AND ORGANZA AND SATIN OF THE MOST GLORIOUS WONDEROUS QUALITY. GLADSTONE THEN DECIDED TO FOLLOW SUIT, ROLLING ALL ABOUT THE FLOOR.

JUST THEN, HOTSON BURST INTO THE ROOM, LETTING SUNLIGHT IN! HIS MUSTACHED TWITCHED IN CONFUSION. HE WAS NOT QUITE SURE OF WHAT HE WAS SEEING, OR IF HE TOO WAS ON SOME SORT OF FANTASY DRUG THAT MADE EVERYTHING SEEM QUITE FAR OUT AND LIKE HOLMES WAS ROLLING ON THE FLOOR IN A DRESS WITH GLADSTONE. SO HE DECIDED THAT THE ONLY THING TO DO WOULD BE OPEN THE CURTAINS, AND RAISE HOLMES FROM WHATEVER SORT OF TERRIBLE HOLE HE'D DUG HIMSELF INTO TODAY THE PITIFUL FELLOW THAT HOTSON WAS SO SECRETLY COMPLETELY IN LOVE WITH, USING POOR BEAUTIFUL MARY AS A BEARD SO THAT HOLMES WOULD NEVER DEDUCE HIS LOVE!

HOTSON TURNED FROM THE NOW OPEN WINDOWS, AND REALIZED THAT IT WAS JUST AS BAD HAS HE HAD FEARED. HOLMES WAS INDEED ROLLING ABOUT ON THE FLOOR WITH GLADSTONE IN A PEACH BALLGOWN.

"WHAT THE DEUCE?!!" HOTSON CRIED IN CONFUSION AND MANLY DOCTORLY INDIGNATION.

"OH, OH, OH... THE PROM..." HOLMES SOBBED INTO HIS DAINTILY GLOVED HANDS.

"OH FOR GOD'S SAKE!" HE CRIED, FINDING THE SIGHT BOTH COMICAL AND KIND OF SAD.

HOLMES CEASED HIS ROLLING AT ONCE. HE LOOKED UP AT WATSON FROM THE FLOOR THROUGH HIS LUSH EYELASHES. "OH, WATSON... I DID NOT... EXPECT YOU HOME... I THOUGHT..."

"YOU THOUGHT WHAT, HOLMES?" HOTSON DEMANDED, HIS EXTERIOR CONDESCENDING BUT HIS INTERIOR MELTING AT THE SIGHT OF THOSE SOULFUL BROWN EYES LOOKING UP AT HIM THROUGH THOSE SILKY LASHES, AND WILTING THAT HOLMES THOUGHT HE WOULD EVER DO ANYTHING TO HURT HIM.

"I THOUGHT YOU WERE OUT RIDING DIAMOND PONIES AT THE CAKE PROM WITH MAAAAARRRRYYYYYYY!" HOLMES CRIED, BURSTING INTO MANLY TEARS.

"OH HOLMES! OH, SHERLOCK! IT'S SIMPLY NOT TRUE!" HOTSON'S RESOLVE WAS WITHERING. HE HAD HURT HIS FRIEND SO!

"OH... JOHN... DOCTOR JOHN WATSON... HOTSON, MY DEAR OLD BOY..." HOLMES MOANED PITIFULLY. HE SIMPLY HAD TO TELL HIM!

"OH, SHERLOCK, SHERLOCK WHAT IS IT?" HOTSON'S BAD LEG TINGLED IN ANTICIPATION.

"WATSON, WON'T YOU EVER TAKE ME TO THE PROM?!" HOLMES SOBBED INTO THE CROOK OF HIS WONDERFULLY ROBED ELBOW.

"...WH- HOLMES... IF I HAD ONLY KNOWN..." HOTSON FELT MANLY TEARS FILL HIS OWN EYES. HE KNELT NEXT TO HOLMES' STATION ON THE FLOOR AND GATHERED HIM INTO HIS ARMS, LOOKING DEEP INTO HIS SEEMINGLY ENDLESS AND WARM BROWN DEEP EYES. "HOLMES, I WILL END THIS RUSE AND TAKE YOU TO THE PROM THIS VERY NIGHT!"

"OH WATSON!" HOLMES CRIED, SURGING FORTH TO KISS THE DOCTOR DIRECTLY ON THE LIPS. HE RELISHED THE FEEL OF HOTSON'S HOT SEXY MUSTACHE ON HIS FACE. HE PULLED HOTSON DOWN ONTO THE FLOOR WITH HIM.

"SHERLOCK... YOU LOOK SO RAVISHING.... I..." HOTSON BENT TO KISS HOLMES AGAIN, ALL MUSTACHEY AND MANLY. "HOLMES, I WILL HAVE YOU NOW."

AND THEN THEY DONE SEX.