Many years ago, when I published
the story “The Devil’s Foot,” I made mention of the dramatic introduction of
Sherlock Holmes to Dr. Moore Agar, a story I intended to recount at a later
time. Due to the sensitive nature of that introduction, I have chosen not to
disclose the details of this unusual occurrence until now. As I lay here at the
end of my life, I find myself needing to reveal the great personal repercussions
of Holmes’ introduction to Dr. Agar, and how his visit to Baker Street changed
the lives of both Sherlock Holmes and myself forever.
It was the year
1894, shortly after Holmes’ miraculous return to London following three long
years of his absence. He prompted the selling of my medical practice and my
reintroduction to the comforts of bachelor life at Baker Street. It was a period
of great change for me personally, as I readjusted to living once more with my
However, I had gotten careless about my attendance at a
certain gentleman’s club to which I was a member. After Sherlock Holmes rejoined
my life, I should have returned to my former habits of carefully hiding my
unnatural deviances. To his credit, he did not detect my secret straight away,
despite the fact that he no doubt had the skills to do so. I assumed it was
simply that Holmes could not think that I, of all people, would be engaged in
something so unseemly.
But as improper as it was, I could not help
myself. My great vice was my sexual nature. Despite an attempt at marriage and
stern testaments to terminate such illicit couplings with strangers, I still
found myself drawn, almost against my will, to the warmth and welcome atmosphere
of the club. It was a place free of judgment, a place where men like myself
could be treated with equanimity by others who knew full well my dark secret.
It was also a place to find companionship, especially among gentlemen
who were above finding such stimulation on the streets or in the less seemly
public houses that had an inverted reputation. When the strain was strongly upon
me, I was welcomed with open arms into the bosom of the club, to chat amicably
with gentlemen of all professions and backgrounds over fine drinks and excellent
food. And, if all went well, I could also find a gentleman who shared my
desires, and we would retire to one of the back rooms to engage in our
Once I moved back to Baker Street with Holmes, after his
miraculous reappearance from Reichenbach, I told myself my days at the club were
at an end.
And for a while, his company alone was enough to suffuse my
lonely being with contentment. I loved Holmes dearly, and his presence back in
my life satisfied a deep longing that had filled me those three long years he
had been absent.
But I have always been a creature of deep physical
feeling, and while I had the emotional friendship I craved with Holmes, I still
desperately desired the sensations of touch, of the smells and tastes of sex.
The desire would build in me, day after day, until I finally could stand it no
longer. Then, making a quick and logical excuse to Holmes about some
appointment, I would slip out in the evening and indulge myself once more in the
safety of the club. It was the only lie in my relationship with Holmes, but it
hurt me to be dishonest.
It was a rainy Monday in autumn that
Holmes left our apartments in great haste, stopping only to share a few sips of
coffee with me before charging off to Paddington to catch a train north to
Coventry. He informed me that he would be staying at an inn in Coventry for the
duration of his investigation, and not to expect him for several days.
always felt a momentary sense of abandonment when Holmes chose not to include me
on a case, and no doubt I sat for some time over my cooling coffee, sulking and
scanning the morning papers forlornly.
My mood did not improve as the
dreary rain continued throughout the day, aggravating my wound and developing
within me a restlessness that could not be sated with any sedentary activity. I
began to feel sorry for myself, for the fact that I had sold my practice and
changed my life to join Holmes, and he often chose to leave me behind like an
inconvenient pet. The sense of loneliness grew as the daylight faded, until I
found myself dressing in preparation to return to my club. There, I would find
companionship of the most agreeable nature, and fill the void that Holmes always
left behind when he departed.
The rain brought many men to the club that
evening, and several fresh faces that I had not seen. A lively discussion
dominated the smoking room, and I found myself drawn to the debate, which was
medical in nature. I was particularly arrested by the fierce arguments of a
young, dashing doctor by the name of Moore Agar. His name caught my fancy, and
he himself was difficult to place genealogically. He had light brown skin and
dark hair, yet dramatic blue eyes so pale they appeared almost clear.
young doctor was passionately defending his unconventional approach to certain
psychological diagnoses with an older doctor who had been a regular face at the
club for years, Dr. Smyth. The two of them grew more defensive every moment, but
I sat back with my brandy and watched the young fellow defend his theories with
great fascination. Not only was it refreshing to have a new face, and another
medical man in the establishment, but this doctor was clearly a specialist in
working with patients of an overactive mind. The subject of Dr. Agar’s research
fit the description of my friend Holmes so closely, I wanted to learn more – to
discover if there were ways to treat Holmes’ anxieties and black moods that
would deter him from his abhorrent addiction to cocaine.
Dr. Agar was
quite flush with anger by the time Dr. Smyth made his excuses to depart. I took
the opportunity to approach Dr. Agar, introducing myself as a medical man and
someone with great personal interest in his field of study.
glared at me quite coldly, his defences raised after the long debate. I offered
him a brandy. He took it hesitantly. I then described Holmes’ conditions,
anonymously referring to him as an “acquaintance” of mine.
calmed greatly as we began to discuss his research. We withdrew from the smoking
room and found ourselves seated in the main room of the club, drinking several
brandies together as we conversed about his research and got to know each other.
I was surprised to learn that Dr. Agar was not from London at all, but was from
Liverpool, and only in town briefly to attend a series of lectures on the
pathology of mental disorders. As he described the deplorable conditions of the
hotel his secretary had secured him, I did not hesitate to offer him the humble
but clean accommodations of Baker Street, as my roommate was away.
not honestly expect Dr. Agar to accept. I always held higher than me those I
respected, and Dr. Agar seemed too great a man to want to spend any more of his
precious time in London in my unimpressive company. In truth, he probably wanted
nothing more than a few hours with some gentleman in the back of the club, and
then a hasty return to his shabby quarters to sleep off the brandy.
glint lit Dr. Agar’s eyes, and he smiled slowly and warmly towards me. “Why, I
would love to join you, Dr. Watson,” he told me, reaching forward to place his
hand on my knee. I felt a warm drunkenness seep through my body at his touch,
and at the promise of where that touch would lead. “I graciously accept your
I had never been so bold as to invite one of my club
acquaintances home with me, but Holmes’ abandonment had left in me a streak of
wilfulness and daring, and I suddenly imagined how sweet it would be, to embrace
this handsome, intelligent man in the comforts of my own bedroom, to spend the
night with someone as the rain sheeted the windows outdoors. With Holmes gone
for several days, I could indulge fully in my sordid desires, with no fears of
his suspicions or repercussions.
We quickly donned our top hats and
coats, and dashed from the awning of the club into a cab. I grew nervous during
the silent drive back to Baker Street, suddenly questioning the risk I was
taking. I had to trust Dr. Agar completely to take him into such confidence.
Usually, I never revealed much of my personal life to the men at the club, often
only sharing my first name and scant details of my profession. But now, with
this complete stranger, I was divulging not only my name and my past, but my
very residence. If he had read any of my accounts in the Strand, he would know
that 221B Baker Street was also the home of the famous Sherlock Holmes, and my
identity would be fully disclosed to his care.
But the doctor seemed a
trustworthy fellow. He had the most charming smile on his face as we made our
way through the dreadful storm, and every once in a while he would give my
shoulder a little squeeze, his eyes lighting with anticipation. He was clearly
looking forward to our evening’s activities as much as I, and I used this
evidence to set my guilty conscience at ease. Dr. Agar would no more expose me
than he would himself.
Mrs. Hudson had long since retired for the night.
We made our way stealthily up the stairs to the sitting room I shared with
Holmes, and I offered Dr. Agar another drink and a cigar. We sat around the fire
and regaled each other with our most amusing medical school stories. He was most
fascinated with details of my military campaign, stating quite unabashedly that
he had a “liking for army men.”
Indeed, as the evening progressed, his
commentary grew more suggestive in nature, and I found myself blushing more than
once at his open admiration of my person.
Dr. Agar asked about the
illness which had ended my military career so abruptly. I was flattered by his
attentions. I had lived with Holmes for several years, and he had never once
inquired into my military exploits. I described the wasting fever I suffered
from, and the scar on my shoulder which left me so disfigured.
use such a word,” Dr. Agar said smoothly, leaning forward to place his hand
confidently on my thigh. “You are assuredly the most attractive man I have seen
in a long time. Your battle scars no doubt only enhance your beauty.”
was still nervous about the act of seducing another man on the settee where I
had sat for years with Holmes. However, by my fifth brandy I was successfully
inebriated enough to lean forward and kiss him.
The doctor responded
immediately. We became locked together in an almost violent embrace, all words
and thoughts extinguished by the power of that kiss. His mouth was supple, the
heat melting my flesh into his, I could taste his tobacco and the alcohol on his
breath, and as he pulled me closer to him, my entire body grew drugged and
languid, a pleasant, sexually charged heat coursed through me that demanded
more, more contact, more of his lips upon mine.
As soon as we broke for
air, I stood and reached for his hand. My trousers bulged obscenely, but I was
pleased and aroused to see his own reciprocal hardness. Wordlessly, I led him by
the hand into my room. I moved to extinguish the gas lamp that was burning
lowly, but Dr. Agar stopped me.
“No,” he whispered. His voice was hoarse,
his eyes dilated with desire. “I want to see you. I want to watch you.”
smiled, stepping away from the light and moving only to double-check that my
curtains were properly closed. I intended to check the door lock but Dr. Agar
threw himself upon me, pressing me against the bed in an aggressive, passionate
Within minutes, we were fumbling as we discarded clothes,
throwing them haphazardly around the room in our desperate need to see each
other’s nakedness. His body was perfect, thin and agile, with a small dusting of
black hairs across his unmarred frame. His genitals were a lovely pink shade,
and stood out fiercely towards me with obvious need.
I quickly slipped
from the bed and knelt beside it, looking up at him in anticipation. This was
one of my favourite poses, and I hoped the doctor would comply.
not hesitate. A slow, languid smile graced his features as he stood in front of
me, hands gently resting in my hair, watching me avidly in anticipation. I
pushed my face into his crotch, inhaling his masculine musk, rubbing my nose and
chin along the heat of his flesh.
Dr. Agar leaned his head back, running
his fingers through my hair, moaning my name.
I pulled his impressive
hardness into my mouth. His taste was exquisite. It had been so long since I had
done this, so long.
I worshipped Dr. Agar’s flesh with my mouth, my lips
caressing his shaft in gentle but long movements, swallowing him deep into the
base of my throat. I was so engaged in my pleasurable activities, I did not hear
the door below open.
And so it was that I was on my knees, with Dr. Agar
standing before me, his cock pressed deep into my throat.
threw open my bedroom door and charged in.
“Watson, I need you to –“
Holmes choked, and stopped dead still, his hand frozen on the doorknob.
pulled my mouth free of Dr. Agar’s member, sweating horror. Dr. Agar cried out
and stepped away from me. He grappled at his feet to find his undergarments and
trousers. I scrambled on the ground for my own discarded clothing, as I was
stark naked before him.
Holmes did not leave. He stared, going completely
“Holmes!” I cried, hoping he would at least have the decency to
He finally coughed and said, “Excuse me.” He slammed the door
behind us, and I heard his footfalls on the stairs.
Dr. Agar was
trembling so severely that he could not button his shirt. I would have offered
to help, but the terrified look in his eyes warned me of touching him. In fact,
I myself was so shaken, I was unsure I could have been much
“I’m sorry,” I whispered to him, as we hurriedly
Dr. Agar said nothing in return. He was deathly pale. I felt
absolutely awful. Not only had I wounded this kind man, but now Holmes knew my
secret. The thought of him pacing downstairs, waiting to either turn me in to
the police or kick me out made me want to vomit. I finished dressing and
smoothed down my clothes as best I could. My hair was mussed by Dr. Agar’s
fingers, but I looked as presentable as possible given the
Dr. Agar waited at the door, his eyes shifting nervously.
A sheen of sweat had broken out over his features.
I took a deep breath,
and then steadied my nerves enough to squeeze his arm. “I will talk with him,” I
said breathlessly. Only now did I realize I was so frightened, I could barely
speak. “He will not say anything, I assure you.” I myself wasn’t so confident,
but I needed to assuage Dr. Agar.
“He… he is your friend?” Dr. Agar
I nodded. “My closest acquaintance. He keeps many secrets, Moore.
I am sure he will keep this one as well.”
The words rang hollow in my own
ears, but they seemed to have the desired effect on Dr. Agar. His shoulders
released their tension, and he even tried to give me a smile. “I believe I
should leave immediately,” he said.
I nodded, and opened the door
hesitantly. Holmes was nowhere to be seen. I walked quietly with Dr. Agar down
the stairs to our front door, and held it open for him. He turned to depart, but
I reached for his arm once more, shaking his hand.
“I’m terribly sorry
about all this,” I told him.
Dr. Agar just tipped his hat at me. The
gesture had such concession and sadness in its cold formality, I felt
heartbroken. He then fled with great haste.
I took a deep breath, and
made my way upstairs.
Holmes was waiting for me in the sitting room. He
had recently stoked the fire. It now blazed with bright fury, filling the room
with dancing shadows.
Holmes sat curled in his chair, smoking his pipe
and staring into the flames. He was still very pale. He did not look up at me as
I entered, nor said anything when I sat on the settee across from him. My heart
was hammering so rapidly in my chest I thought myself genuinely at risk of
He still said nothing. Finally, I broke the acidic silence
between us. “Holmes, I am terribly sorry. You said you would be gone
“—Be quiet!” Holmes shouted at me. He rarely raised his voice at
me. I saw that Holmes was actually trembling in his rage. He looked at me with
absolute malice. He threw his pipe across the room, smashing it against the
I looked away instinctively. My heart was in my throat. My God. Our
friendship was ruined, it was over.
“Whatever you wish, Holmes,” I
mumbled. I couldn’t feel my lips, my whole body was numb.
Holmes made a
fist, and appeared as though he would strike me. He grit his teeth and
swivelled, biting back whatever he was going to say. But then he turned again,
his expressive face contorted in rage. As fast as a cat pouncing, Holmes reached
out and grabbed be by my waist coat and shook me.
“How could you,
Watson? My God, how could you?”
He was so close, I could smell the
light scent of his aftershave. I withered under his relentless glare. I had no
idea what to say. “I’m sorry,” I finally whispered.
Holmes made a cry of
disgust and pushed me from him. I stumbled backwards onto the settee. I sat
there, staring at the floor, and began to shiver uncontrollably. So this is what
it felt like to be found out.
“Of all the stupid decisions you have
made, this outstrips them all!” he ranted, pacing in front of me. “Do you have
any idea what risk you have placed yourself in? Your entire life could be
He approached abruptly and leaned over me, furious. I
sank backwards into the cushions.
“And me! Have you given no
consideration to what risks you have taken with MY reputation, MY liberties? If
anyone discovered your sordid little secret, how would that reflect upon me? By
God, we have been living together for years!” He started pacing again,
running his hand through his hair, a gesture I have seen him take up only in
His accusations left my mouth completely dry. I had
considered the risks, of course. I knew if I was ever caught, that there was a
danger of infecting Holmes’ reputation as well, despite his innocence. It had
weighed heavily on my conscience, but I had taken every precaution to make sure
I wasn’t discovered.
But now the reality of what I risked overwhelmed
me. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, when my mind was hijacked by
sexual desire, when I thought loneliness would crush my very soul.
was right. It was one thing to risk my own neck. But I had endangered his as
well. As he ranted on about my stupidity and selfishness, my sickness
overwhelmed me. What on earth did a man say to another in such a
Holmes continued his verbal tirade, accusing me of dismantling
the very framework of the detective agency he had worked so hard to build. As he
spoke, he no longer looked at me. He paced the room and cursed.
realized I had no recourse but to leave. The idea of abandoning the cosy warmth
of Baker Street again after having just settled in brought tears to my eyes. But
his fury was undeniable. I had never seen such anger towards me. Holmes tried to
relight his pipe, but his hands were trembling with his rage and he threw it
once more, barely missing my head. It was then that I knew I had to
“I’ll come for my things tomorrow,” I said quietly.
glared. “What did you say?”
“I should go.” I reached for my hat and coat.
My umbrella was still sopping wet. I shook it on the floor.
Cleveland Street?” Holmes sneered. “Did I break in too abruptly? I’m sorry,
Doctor, that my presence in my own home has been such an inconvenience to
At any other time, I believe I would have been strong enough to
fight back against Holmes’ taunting. But I was too humiliated that evening to do
anything more than give him one last, painful glance, before heading down the
stairs and plunging into the unforgiving rain alone.
I spent a
miserable night in the closest hotel. I slept little. All night images of
Holmes’ startled expression filled my thoughts. The sense of how I had betrayed
him gnawed at my conscience.
I needed to return home, to arrange for
moving out and to pack more than just the clothes I was wearing. In the early
morning hours I walked up the steps of our apartments on the verge of being
sick. Mrs. Hudson arrested me midway up the stairs to scold me for quarrelling
with Holmes so loudly the night before. She then promised a hot breakfast in a
Her kindness sent deeper the ache in my bones at the
prospect of leaving. I opened the door to the sitting room hesitantly, praying
that Holmes was asleep or out, as was his general pattern after a fitful
Inside, the sitting room looked as though it had been torn apart.
Holmes still sat in the same clothes, almost the same position, as when I had
left him the night before. The fire was reduced to ashes, but these he continued
to stare into as if it were ablaze. The air in the room was fetid with cigarette
smoke. He looked pale and exhausted.
I backed out, intending to make my
way to my room and leave him alone, when his sharp gaze stopped
“Watson. Come in here.”
I entered the room
“Shut and lock the sitting room door. Now, sit down across from
me. We must talk.”
I did as Holmes requested. I sat across from him, and
stared into his exhausted face.
He had no anger left in him, and looked
“Look at you,” he said softly. “You are shaking like a
I watched my hands shake almost abstractly. My sense of regret was
so overwhelming, I almost missed Holmes’ first words as he got up and sat beside
“I must apologize,” he said. “My insults last night were uncalled
I looked up in surprise. He stared back at me, pale but
I tried to assuage him, tell him they were well-deserved. But I
couldn’t speak, my throat was raw and dry.
Holmes stared at me in silence
for another endless minute. And then he took a deep breath. “I have given the
matter much consideration this night, and have come to some conclusions which I
would like to discuss with you. But first, you must oblige me.”
I had no
idea what he meant, and stared at him nervously.
“Tell me the truth,” he
said at last.
I tried speaking again but found no moisture in my throat.
In an instant Holmes was up. He returned with a glass of water, which I drank
down in startling speed. My hands were still shaking.
“I’m sorry,” I said
“What do you wish to know?”
studied my expression. “Everything. Start with where you met this
I steadied my nerves, and then I began. I told Holmes about the
club. How I had gone there only a few times prior to Reichenbach, when I was
very lonely. How I had married Mary Morstan as a way to try and change my
nature, and how it had failed. How I frequented the club with more regularity
after his death and hers. And how, after his return, I still found myself
occasionally needing the comfort of company like myself.
“And this man?”
Holmes pressed. His mouth was a thin line, frowning at me.
I closed my
eyes, and secretly begged Dr. Agar to forgive me for betraying him this way.
“His name is Dr. Moore Agar. He was at the club tonight, and from out of town. I
offered him lodgings as his hotel is in a poor state. The two of us got along
very well.” I blushed, and, to my shock, Holmes did as well.
the first time I have been so careless as to bring someone home,” I told Holmes.
“Prior to this night, I have taken every precaution never to reveal too much
about myself to members of the club. And we never meet in day time, in
Holmes extricated the water glass from my white-knuckled grip.
He refilled my glass and gave it back to me.
“Thank you,” I whispered. I
looked into the glass of water. “I never wanted you to know.”
should have told me,” Holmes said sternly.
“I did not want to lose your
“You would not have. I could have helped you be more
I looked up at him then, startled. Holmes smiled briefly at my
“I am not so naïve as to pretend that such feelings between
men do not exist, Watson,” he told me. He sighed. “And I have explained on more
than one occasion how I feel about the recent laws which make such relations
illegal. These laws serve no one but the blackmailers.”
resent the fact that you have engaged in such a dangerous pastime without
warning me of it. You are gambling with both of our livelihoods, our
reputations. I have no intention of being sent to prison for a crime I have not
I shuddered. “I know. By God, Holmes, I’m sorry. I thought I
had taken every precaution, however—“
Holmes held out his hand to silence
me. “You are not a natural at deception, my dear Watson. You have done very well
to keep this from me all these years, but if I am able to discover it, then so
is Scotland Yard.”
“I will stop,” I said resolutely, looking him in the
eye. “I will never go back to the club.”
Holmes’ eyebrow quirked up.
“Really? From what I gather, such desires can be quite… forceful… on one’s
I blushed again. He was right, of course – it was easy for me
now to say that I would never again engage in forbidden flesh. It would be
another thing entirely on some lonely, rainy night, when all I had was a hunger
that pulsed through my body, driving me mad with unspent desire.
Holmes said. “I’m not asking you to change who you are. For better or for worse,
this is your nature.”
I closed my eyes. “I tried being married. I tried
living like other men. But I cannot.”
“And I do not expect you to,”
Holmes said. “But you will engage in your activities with more caution from this
point out,” he told me. “I will not let you drag me down with you.”
course.” I felt relief washing over me. “Thank you, Holmes.” I put my hand over
his, and squeezed it. It was now dawning on me that Holmes knew of my nature,
and yet had not suggested that I move out, or even relinquish it entirely. He
was going to help me. I smiled then, suddenly overcome with relief. “Thank you,”
I said again.
“You are my dearest friend,” he said quietly. “And I will
not let you ruin yourself, or suffer needlessly.” He looked me in the eye. His
stare was unwavering, piercing. “So we will come up with an alternative, safer
plan for your activities.”
I frowned. “Holmes, what do you
“No more unseemly, secretive acts with strangers.” His lip curled
as he said the words, obviously repulsed by my activities. I let go of his
“Clubs are too dangerous,” he continued. “I have never been to one,
and yet I know of the location and reputation of three within the west end of
London alone.” Holmes narrowed his eyes at me. “If I know of them, then so do
the police. It is only a matter of time before a raid will bring you
“But where else could I—“ I couldn’t finish the sentence. I was
going to say, where else could I find a lover? But it was too uncomfortable,
talking about lovers with Holmes. This was a man who, for all I knew, was a
virgin. He had no idea what sexual pleasures were like, and if he did, he was
better at hiding his nature than I.
“I have an idea which may solve your
problem, and keep both of us safe from the talons of blackmailers who would use
your casual acquaintances to destroy us.”
I waited. He hesitated. He was
staring at me with a very strange expression. He appeared strained, as if
holding in some great pain. His eyes never wavered from mine.
it?” I finally prompted.
Holmes ground his teeth for a second more. And
then he put his hand on my knee. “I will take care of your needs.”
stared at him, mouth agape. It took a second for the words to sink in. He
couldn’t mean what I thought he meant. He couldn’t.
“I don’t… Holmes,
what are you talking about?”
His cheeks were flushing. I could see his
pulse beating in his thin, pale neck.
“I will fulfil your needs. This
way, you will not have to leave Baker Street to address your desires. And since
no one has suspected us of any disreputable relations over the years we have
known each other, they shall not now, as long as we continue to conduct
ourselves appropriately in front of others.”
I stared at him,
incredulous. Finally, without any other emotion for recourse, I simply snorted
in laughter. “Holmes, that is the most absurd idea I have ever
Holmes’ serious expression shattered. He looked hurt.
I threw up my hands. “Holmes! This isn’t like ironing my
“I realize that.”
“It is an act of love,” I said. “It has
to be something both partners are engaged in. You… you have to want to do
Holmes shrugged. “Perhaps I do. I am not sure. But I do know that
if you must seek this – release – somewhere, I would rather it came from me than
from someone else.”
Holmes looked uncomfortable. He shifted
on the settee. “It is safer.”
I felt joy ignite my heart. Could it be
that the cold, unfeeling, Sherlock Holmes was jealous? “Is that the only
To my astonishment, Holmes blushed even further. His entire neck
turned red. He looked nervously away from me. “I simply prefer it that
I smiled to myself. It would be just like Holmes, to have harboured
feelings of possessiveness towards me, and not say a word until I was caught
with someone else.
But like a two year old who is selfish for a toy they
have lost interest in, until someone else picks it up, I wasn’t sure if Holmes’
possessiveness meant he actually wanted to engage in sexual congress with me. As
far as I knew, he would go through the motions just so no one else could have
me, but hate it all the same.
“But you have no interest in this,
personally,” I asked carefully.
Holmes turned back to face me. Some of
his prior arrogance and annoyance had returned, and it made me feel better, to
see him back to his typical state, rather than flushed and bothered.
am doing this as your friend,” Holmes said.
I considered his proposal
seriously for all of two seconds. And then I shook my head. “No. I do not like
Holmes stared at me. “Why not?” His eyes widened. “Ah, I see.
You do not find me attractive.”
“What? No, that’s not it.” I touched his
shoulder, briefly. “Of course I do, Holmes. I…” I almost said I loved him, but I
realized the error in admitting so much so soon, and swallowed my words. “… I
have very strong feelings for you. But you are not some rent boy off the street,
for God’s sake! I can’t just use you. I’d want you to receive pleasure from our
actions. For all I know, you find the entire concept repulsive.”
find it repulsive, or I would not have suggested it.” He lit himself a
I watched him in silence. He gave me darting looks, but mostly
focused on the opposite wall.
I sighed. “Do you have any idea what we’re
talking about?” I asked quietly.
Holmes scowled at me. “Yes.”
you know what men at the club do together?” I insisted.
fiercely once more. He tapped his cigarette against the ashtray nervously. “I
believe I have just been witness to one of your deviant activities.”
closed my eyes in my shame. To think that Holmes had caught me in such a
humiliating pose filled me with grief. But I could not let him assume this was
the extent of it.
“There’s more, Holmes. We were only getting
“I am no fool, Watson,” Holmes snapped, his blush still not
fading. “I have some ideas. I have read accounts of sexual
“Hm.” I couldn’t help but smile at him. He had read books.
That’s all. There was something charming in his bluster, hiding his naivety.
“What…” Holmes looked at me nervously, exhaling smoke to the side of my
face. “What did you do with your last partner? The one before Agar?”
own discomfort at the conversation rose to new heights. “I cannot in good
conscience tell you,” I said. “It was very… intimate.”
Holmes raised an
eyebrow. “If you cannot discuss such things with me, Watson, then how on earth
are we going to do such things?”
I shook my head. “This is utter
“Tell me,” he insisted.
I swallowed. “We kissed. We
undressed. I… I put my face to his crotch and I pleasured him with my
Holmes looked crazed as I spoke. He watched me with his grey eyes
wide and startled. It looked like he was holding his breath. “Go on,” he
“He lubricated his fingers, and pushed them inside of me. I
did the same to him. I sodomized him.” I forced myself to make eye contact.
Holmes was bright red, but his eyes did not leave my face. “That’s what we are
discussing here,” I told him. “Can you do that, Holmes? Does it not repulse you?
You yourself called it my ‘sordid little secret.’ Sordid indeed. Nothing two
proper gentlemen should be engaged in.”
“Yes, sordid indeed,” he
repeated. His mouth was open slightly, and he appeared very flushed. His
cigarette hung, forgotten, between his fingers. He stared at me with great
intensity. “Filthy, even.” His voice had gone slightly husky.
filthy,” I continued relentlessly, leaning closer to him. “There are body
fluids. It is messy. It is smelly. It is everything you oppose, Holmes. As long
as I’ve known you, you have abhorred being dirty for longer than a few minutes.
You cannot bear being examined or touched intimately. You dislike emotional
connections. You are not one to love or be loved.”
I sighed, and looked
at his strange, half-mad expression, and saw how close we were sitting together
on the sofa. I scooted back away from him for a moment, and then sighed. “I am
honoured and flattered beyond belief that you would be willing to sink to my
level in order to save me from disgrace. But it won’t do. You would grow to hate
me for practicing such things upon you. And everything about your nature tells
me you would gain no pleasure from such actions. It is only enjoyable for me
when my partner receives equal gratification.”
Holmes listened to what I
had to say, and nodded. As if suddenly remembering his cigarette, he scowled at
it between his fingers, took one long drag, and then violently crushed it to
death in the ashtray. He stretched his long arms along the top of the sofa and
turned to me, his eyes half-closed, his expression veiled.
“I have always
been open to experimentation,” he said. “Perhaps we should try it once, and see
if it is agreeable to me? If so, then we can continue safely, in privacy. If
not, we will devise some other method for you to seek your needs without risking
both our reputations in such a haphazard fashion.”
I smiled then, and
felt a little giddy. It was dawning on me that Holmes was offering an
opportunity to be intimate with him. From his speech, I gathered that he was not
experienced, at least not with men. There was a thrill there, the idea of
deflowering Holmes, that sent a shiver of wicked delight through my body. I
imagined what it would feel like, what it would look like, to bring him to
completion. It could be very rewarding, to show him what intimacy could do. I
have often wanted to slap the smirk off his face when he sneered at couples who
did absurd, illogical things out of passion. I wanted now to show him what
passion was, how it felt to be held by another and drawn to the very precipice
of delight, and then plunged into ecstasy. The idea of being the first man to do
so to Holmes was already making me stiff in expectation.
But we had had
quite an exhausting night and morning already. My stomach was still churning
with the nightmare of Holmes’ untimely interruption, with guilt for poor Agar,
and I wasn’t sure either of us would be up to anything this day.
Hudson resolved the issue for us by suddenly knocking at the sitting room door,
announcing breakfast. Holmes mumbled something grumpily under his breath, and
headed off to his bedroom to change. I opened the door for Mrs. Hudson. As she
slowly took in the damage of the sitting room, I could see her face begin to
scrunch in condemnation. I quickly ushered her out of the room with promises
that I would see to the state of our quarters promptly.
Holmes joined me
for breakfast a few minutes later, having briefly washed and changed into a
fresh suit. We ate in tense silence. And then I recalled that this entire
regrettable affair had begun with Holmes breaking into my room in
“Holmes? What was it that you returned home early for? Is it
regarding your investigation?”
Holmes scowled. “Pah! Investigation. The
way it was described to me by letter, I assumed I would need three days to
determine the patterns of this thief and properly conclude the case. As it
happens, I was able to solve it within the first two hours of my dreary
experience in Coventry. A complete waste of my time and skills.” He cut into his
toast angrily. I smiled to myself, albeit for selfish reasons. I much preferred
Holmes’ frustrations to be directed towards someone other than
“So what did you need of me?” I asked, blushing slightly at the
Holmes looked up, surprised, and then a ghost of a smile touched
his face. “Ah. I needed you to join me for a very late supper, Watson. I was in
a terrible mood, and required good company.”
I looked towards my plate of
eggs and ate swiftly to hide my surprise. I was so used to Holmes barging into
my life at all hours and in all states of weather to help him solve a crime, it
seems I had completely forgotten that there were times when he simply needed
company as well.
Mrs. Hudson cleared away our breakfasts and then both
Holmes and I retired separately to our own rooms. I was exhausted and, following
a bath, took a nap.
I awoke to the sound of Holmes playing violin
downstairs. For a moment I fantasized that Holmes was serenading me, as I
recognized the sweet melody he played as one of my favourites. I returned
downstairs to find the living room had been tidied, and a meal awaited us on the
“Mrs. Hudson is out for the rest of the evening, and so we must
fend for ourselves,” Holmes said, continuing to play his violin. His meal was
barely picked at. I myself felt famished, and quickly devoured the delicious
turkey our landlady had prepared.
After my meal, however, tension began
to creep into the room. Holmes stopped playing and sat down on the settee. He
frowned at his pipe, which had cracked during last night’s tirade. With a
dramatic sigh, he put it aside and reached for his meerschaum. He sat smoking on
the sofa, staring out the darkened windows of our rooms, looking deep in
I poured us both some whiskey, and watered his down as I knew he
I returned to sit beside him on the sofa, and handed him his
“Thank you,” he said, and he smiled shyly at me.
sure how matters stood between us, but since I was no longer in imminent danger
of arrest or homelessness, I decided to gingerly broach a subject which had been
eating at my conscience all day.
“Holmes,” I began tentatively. “Would
you take offence if I were to… to contact Dr. Agar, if I can find him, and to
notify him that you have no intention of turning us in?”
at the name of the doctor, but his expression transformed to one of confusion.
“Honestly, Watson, did you think I would turn you both over to the
I shrugged. He snorted in laughter. “Once again, your
perceptions have been entirely amiss. What possible clues have I presented in
the many years of our friendship that would account for your belief that I hold
law above our partnership? Watson, you truly vex me.”
His comments warmed
my heart. “Then you would have no objection to me assuaging the doctor of his
safety? He departed in a state of high distress.”
Holmes frowned again.
He puffed at his pipe for several moments before waving it lethargically at me.
“If you must. Although I beg you not to bring him here. The sight of him makes
my skin crawl.”
I straightened. “Because he is a man, and we were
intimate?” I asked.
“No, because he was touching you, and you are mine.”
He didn’t look at me.
I couldn’t hide my surprise. I must have gasped at
the suggestiveness of his comment.
Holmes glared at me. “You are MY
friend. You are MY biographer. MY business partner. If you need to be pleasured,
it is MY duty to see to it.” He scowled at the wall. “I don’t want some
half-witted aristocrat from the bowels of England to be stealing your attention
away from me.”
My heart almost burst with joy. So Holmes was
jealous. “I see,” I said. And then I laughed. I couldn’t help
Holmes looked embarrassed. It was amusing how observant he could
be about others, and yet how clueless he was of his own feelings.
didn’t know I belonged to you,” I said, lowering my voice and moving
Holmes pulled the pipe from his mouth and scowled. “You are your
own man, Watson, you belong to no one.” He frowned, and softened his tone. “But
I have grown accustomed to your company, and am loathe to share it.”
decided at that moment to be bold. I placed my hand upon his thigh. It felt
strange, to touch him there, to feel the hardness of his leg, to have my hand in
such proximity to his groin. He stiffened under my hand immediately. I was
tempted to pull it away, but I needed to see if his intentions were truly what
he claimed them to be.
Holmes continued to smoke his pipe, which I
interpreted as a bad sign. I began to feel foolish, my hand pointlessly clamped
onto his leg. But as we sat there in silence, I detected tremors in his leg, a
shaking energy. Hesitantly, he reached down with his right hand and placed it
His face had flushed once more. He wouldn’t make eye contact
with me, but the shaking within him increased. He was very moved, but whether it
was fear or arousal I could not be certain.
I squeezed his leg softly,
urging the muscles to release their tension. He rubbed my hand gently, saying
nothing. The air was electric, I felt as if I could not breathe. I held my
breath in our silence, rubbing his leg.
Holmes’ hand strayed from mine,
slowly sliding up my arm, until it stopped on my shoulder. Holmes put down his
pipe finally, and turned to look at me.
His eyes were wide and he looked
vulnerable. Terrified. I slid my hand upwards, closer to his groin. He was
visibly shaking now. But I couldn’t help but also notice that there was a slight
bulge in his trousers. The sight pleased me immensely. It meant not only that he
was all right with men being attracted to other men – but he himself found the
Holmes looked at me with wide eyes. ”All right, Watson,”
he said with severity. “What happens next?”
I was not going to destroy
this new fragile trust so swiftly. He might consider himself ready for such an
experiment, but I doubted him. He was full of bravado at the moment. If we were
going to do what he suggested, it would be best to approach the issue softly,
“Perhaps we should let the matter drop for tonight.” I squeezed
his leg once more, and then withdrew my hand. To my delight, he immediately
pressed his leg against mine, seeking further contact.
“I told you I
would take care of your needs,” he said, coughing and trying to sound in control
“I am grateful for your consideration.” I smiled. “But I am
also unsure about taking up your offer until I know you want to reciprocate. You
have to want it, Holmes.”
“I want it.” He said it quickly, and blushed,
suddenly looking away.
“You say that now. But only last night, you were
yelling at me for being disgusting.” I swallowed, all my mirth gone, remembering
“I felt betrayed,” he said quietly.
My heart beat
against my rib cage. I was a fool. Such a blind, ignorant fool.
I put my
hand back on his shoulder then, and turned him to face me. I pulled him into an
embrace. He stiffly hugged me back. I held him for a good minute, and then let
him go. He watched me carefully.
I cupped the back of his neck in my
hand. He immediately grabbed a hold of me. I kissed his neck softly, and he
“I’m sorry,” I whispered against his flesh. “I promise you I
will not return to the club. I will seek no other company.” I pulled back to
stare him in the eye. “But if we do this, you must be honest with me, Holmes,
for the sake of our friendship. If I go too far, or make you uncomfortable, you
must ask me to stop. We shall go about this slowly.”
Holmes closed his
eyes and leaned in further towards my lips. I caressed his long neck with my
mouth, enjoying the rich aroma of his scent, the silkiness of his flesh. I had
admired his body from afar for so long. The heat of his body now shocked me. His
flesh felt as though it were on fire.
His trembling increased, but his
mouth emitted soft moans as I continued to kiss his neck. I loosened his tie and
collar and slowly traced the space between his collar bones with my tongue,
letting my moustache play against his skin.
Holmes’ arms gripped my
shoulders with fierce strength. I ceased my attentions to his neck long enough
to look up and see his expression. His head was tilted back, his eyes closed,
his lips parted. He looked absolutely wanton and beautiful, with his cheeks
stained a dangerous red.
Before we went any further, however, I was
determined to continue behind a locked door. I untangled myself from his embrace
and stood, reaching down for his hand. Holmes took it, standing awkwardly. His
blush spread down his neck. And as he stood, I could see the reason for his
embarrassment. His trousers now bulged obscenely. I smiled soothingly and led
him my bedroom, making sure to lock the door before I proceeded.
lowered the gas lamp and assured myself that the curtains were closed tightly.
Holmes watched me move about the room with wide eyes. He looked frightened. I
approached him slowly, and once again folded him into a simple
Holmes returned the hug with more affection this time, moving
his hands along my back.
I leaned forward and kissed him. He froze,
rigid, eyes clamped shut. There was no pliancy in his lips, no acceptance. I
kissed him chastely.
After a minute, he began to press his lips back. I
kissed at him once more, and slowly licked at his lips.
He moaned. As he
opened his mouth I took advantage of this and slipped my tongue inside of him.
His eyes shot open in shock, and I embraced him once more, slowly, gently
kissing him, until I felt him involuntarily grind his hips towards me, cling to
I broke the kiss then and pulled back.
His eyes shot
open and he looked… hungry. With sudden confidence, he pulled me to him and
pressed his lips to mine. His tongue surged into my mouth, an explosion of heat
and softness, and I moaned. I slowly pulled him down with me onto my bed. I
pressed him against the mattress and kissed him. His body was hard and hot
beneath mine, writhing uncontrollably. His hips began to thrust upwards to gain
more contact, to rub his sensitive groin against mine.
I finished the job
I had started in the living room by removing his collar completely. I slowly
undressed him. He watched me now, no longer shy, his grey eyes piercing,
unwavering, staring at me as if each move I made was fascinating. A little smile
curved the corners of his lips.
I smiled back, unbuttoning his shirt as
quickly as I could without damaging the fabric. He sat up to help me remove the
garment, and then laid back down.
I stared down at Holmes’ naked torso, and
felt myself awash with desire. His body was so beautiful, so lean and muscular
and pale. Only a small patch of brown hair and the bright pink tint of his
nipples challenged the alabaster smoothness of his flesh. I could see his ribs,
as thin as he was, and I slowly ran my hands along them, letting my fingers
trail as they moved across his flesh, stopping at his nipples.
over and kissed him again. As my tongue thrust into his mouth, I used my fingers
to gently squeeze his nipples. Holmes arched upwards and moaned into my mouth,
his eyes opening in shock. He broke our kiss with a gasp.
“Good Lord!” he
whispered, clutching me tighter. I chuckled. I ran my lips over his nipples,
licking each one in turn. I rubbed my moustache over their sensitive tips, and
Holmes cried out again, his body going rigid beneath mine, pressing upwards as
he lifted himself off the mattress towards me.
I continued to kiss his
chest as I reached up and began to undo my own collar. I undressed quickly.
Holmes’ hands roamed over my chest, his fingers flicking my own nipples,
watching my face carefully for response.
It was very hard to concentrate
on removing my shirt with shocks of delicious, hot pleasure coursing through my
body. His fingers burned my flesh, sent searing desire through each touch,
rational thought failing me as he intensified his attentions.
a fast learner, and his lips and tongue moved expertly over my flesh. His kisses
lingered on my wounded shoulder, paying special attention to the knot of
My cock was painfully constricted in my trousers. I forced Holmes
to cease his ministrations long enough for me to remove them. As I did so,
Holmes quickly scrambled to remove his own. As he pulled his undergarments from
his legs, his sheepishness returned, blushing once more as he revealed his
I covered his nakedness with my own, kissing him once more as I
pushed my shaft against his. As I slowly shifted along his body, Holmes’ eyes
rolled back in his head and he moaned, gripping me tighter and thrusting against
me with unchecked abandon.
There was no question in my mind now that he
was enjoying this. His body still trembled, but it was from intense arousal
rather than fear. His kisses turned almost violent in their intensity, his hands
roved everywhere, and I pressed him deeper into the bed and used my right hand
to reach down and squeeze his shaft.
Holmes cried out. He had devolved
into a creature of pure sexual desire. His body was flush and hot in my hands,
his smell strong and musky, and I became lost in the sensations of him, the pure
carnal nature of him, as he bucked and writhed beneath me, powerless to all but
his pleasure in my hands.
“Do everything with me,” he whispered suddenly,
his voice a ragged growl. “I want to try everything.”
“We have time,” I
whispered back. I had no intentions of doing anything beyond using my mouth this
evening, but Holmes squeezed my shoulder with almost painful intensity, and used
his other hand to hold my chin, forcing me to look him in the eye.
It is all or nothing with me, you know I do not do anything by halves.” His eyes
were dilated with desire, his lips swollen and red from our kisses. “I must know
if this is something I can enjoy.”
I smiled and kissed him again. I
leaned down to spread his legs open. There was none of his former shyness now,
only a desperate desire to oblige me. His body continued to shiver, but I could
see the power of his arousal before me, his cock leaking fluid and pointing
towards me with need.
I lowered my head and gently licked the base of his
sac, sucking his testicles into my mouth. Holmes moaned insensibly, his hands
pulling at my hair. I loved the feeling, his sac heavy and loose, pushed against
my face, my lips. Holmes writhed above me in pleasure. And then I felt his hand
reach down and grab a hold of mine. He placed my hand at his entrance.
your finger there,” he whispered.
My entire body flushed at the very
idea, but I was cautious. “Are you sure?” I whispered. “I don’t want to frighten
“…Do it,” he whispered, writhing around me. “Show me what you have
done with other men before me.”
I leaned over to reach the jar of
lubricant I had hidden in my bedside table, and greased up my fingers. I
returned to his member, sinking the width of his shaft in my throat as I slowly,
carefully, circled his small entrance with my index finger.
I could feel his
entire body shiver in response, but he made no move to pull away.
slowly sank my finger inside of him, moving in circles to gently stretch the
skin. I pulled my mouth from his organ for a brief moment.
“Are you still
Holmes grunted in frustration. “I will tell you if I need you
to stop. Until then, keep doing it!”
With his permission, I sank my
finger in deeper, until I was inside of him up to my knuckle. I began to move
the finger in wider circles, and when I brushed against his prostrate, I felt
his entire body spasm with pleasure.
“Oh God… Oh, Watson…” Holmes began
to push towards my hand, writhing his opening over my finger. I took advantage
of this new desire by pulling out and replacing two fingers inside of him
instead of one. He moaned in ecstasy, and I stifled my own cries of desire by
swallowing his shaft wholly, pulling him to the base of my throat. I enjoyed the
idea of him penetrating me as I did the same to him. I pumped my fingers now,
more rapidly, making sure to caress his prostrate at each stroke, and Holmes was
slowly dissolving around me.
“Watson!” He spread his legs wider, holding
them open for me with his hands behind his knees.
I was almost blind with
desire now. I had to have him. He was holding himself open, inviting me inside.
I coated my member thickly and then grabbed a pillow to place under Holmes’
“Will this be all right?” I whispered. “I want to see
Holmes looked crazed with passion; his face was flushed, his eyes
glazed over, his thick red lips parted wantonly, breathing deeply and
I knelt between his legs. I pushed his
knees back gently, and then slowly began to insert my shaft into him. I
hesitated at the muscle, giving him a moment to feel used to my presence, before
pressing further inside. As I did, Holmes groaned and reached up to run his
hands along my chest.
“Do it,” he whispered urgently.
him, sinking my full length into him, but not moving afterwards. I held that
position for close to a minute, driving both myself and him mad with desire,
until I saw his face relax. Once he looked comfortable, I began to move, as
slowly as my fevered desire would allow.
“All right?” I asked him, as I
withdrew half way and re-entered his opening.
“Wonderful,” he said, and I
couldn’t help but laugh. He looked up at me then, with eyes wide and joyous, and
he laughed as well. “Faster.”
Once again, I obliged him, beginning to
move in rapid thrusts, plunging as deep as I could and pulling almost all the
way out of him before returning back. His insides were so warm, I felt like I
was melting. His tight heat stroked my shaft with such intensity, I thought I
would pass out from the sensation.
I began to work my cock around in a
circle inside of him, hoping to rub against his prostate as much as possible.
The effect rendered Holmes into jelly. He began to moan nonsensically, grasping
for me fervently. I reached down with my free hand and began to stroke his own
cock, pulsing with desire against my belly. I held his shaft to my skin and
rubbed against it, and began to push into Holmes in earnest, quickly and with
I had no worries for his comfort any more. He was beyond
consolation. He was groaning and writhing, impaled on my shaft. He bucked
against me and drove me even deeper into him.
I lifted his hips higher
and wider, and penetrated him so deeply I could no longer hold back the wave of
my ecstasy. I came in a long shudder, going rigid inside of him, grasping his
buttocks. I finished, panting, and looked down to see what his reaction would
His flushed face grinned up at me lasciviously. He looked proud of
himself. I laughed and collapsed my weight upon him, leaving my member inside of
his flesh. I loved the feeling of being inside Holmes, the connection between
But as I pressed against his body, I felt the demanding hardness of his
own unsatisfied need against my belly. I did not know how much longer he could
hold out, but he said he wanted to try everything, and I wanted him to feel what
I had just felt, experience all the pleasures of making love to another
“Your turn,” I told him. I slowly withdrew my cock from inside of
him, and then knelt beside him. “I want you to try it.”
shivered as he swallowed. He quickly sat up, looking at me expectantly.
remembered my first time, and how nervous I had been. But Holmes suddenly
gripped my hips from behind and hitched me up, positioning himself behind me.
There was no hesitation.
Holmes spread my cheeks apart and then stopped
for a moment, breathing heavily. “What… what should I do?” he asked me.
quickly fumbled for the tin of lubricant. I handed it back at him. “Use plenty
“On me or in you?” he asked.
“Either. Both. It doesn’t
matter.” I was breathless with expectation.
Holmes opened the tin. I did
not feel anything behind me, so I knew he must have been applying it to himself.
He reached out and grabbed me with slicked fingers, yanking me
He spread me open again, and then pressed his cock to my
I moaned. It was too much, too large, and he pressed against my
entrance forcefully. “Go slowly,” I cautioned him, suddenly nervous that he
would hurt me.
“Open for me,” he whispered hotly. And as if my body was
attuned to his commands and not mine, my muscle relaxed and let him inside.
Holmes emitted a delicious cry of delight as he sank his full thickness
into me. He was too big for my tight hole, and he stretched me to the limits. I
felt nothing but pressure, he was on top of me, inside of me, everywhere. His
hands gripped me tightly to him, holding my flesh with such strength I knew
there would be bruises in the morning.
It had been a long time since I
had allowed a man to penetrate me, and Holmes’ desire was overpowering. He
pounded into me with relentless force, his body shaking. Black stars appeared
behind my closed eyes with each manic thrust. All I felt was pressure and his
heat, engulfing me. This is what it must feel like to be swallowed, I thought,
and at that moment, he twisted me against him and came with a shudder and a
gasp, pulling me tighter, mindless of my limbs, my sore backside, reaching the
very depth of me.
And then, with a great gasp, he withdrew his cock and
collapsed beside me.
I turned over to lay beside him. I could feel that
his forceful entry would leave me aching for days, but it was worth it just to
see the sated expression on his face as he lay back in perfect
Holmes blinked at me, as if waking from a dream. And then he
“Watson? Watson! Are you all right? Was I too rough?”
He grabbed my face between his hands, he kissed my forehead.
“I’m fine. My God, Holmes…” I chuckled. “For a man who has never had sex with
another man, that was quite a performance.”
Holmes laughed, cradling my
head in his hand and pulling me closer. “I had no idea such feelings were in
“That was very dramatic,” I said.
“My reactions always are,
when it comes to you, my friend.” He stared at me with such intensity, I almost
wanted to look away. But his flushed, satisfied expression, his languid grey
eyes, they were too beautiful to turn from.
“What do you mean?” I
“You make me furious,” he said finally.
I swallowed. “I’m
sorry I make you so cross.”
“Nonsense! It simply is that every emotion I
have towards you is so damnably intense. I need you. I abhor needing you. You
are such a distraction. And an absolute comfort. I think I would be both happier
and thoroughly miserable if you were not in my life, Watson.”
want me to leave?” I said, hurt.
“God, no!” Holmes pulled me to him with
fierceness. “I am terrified of you leaving. I’m terrified of you finding someone
else, someone who will treat you the way you deserve.” He was quite for a
moment, stroking my hair. “Someone like Agar.” He said it so quietly, I thought
for a moment I had imagined it.
I rested my head on Holmes’ heaving
chest, kissing his shoulder. “What you have given me is beyond everything any
other man has shared with me. It is more than just sexual pleasure, Holmes. I
Holmes did not respond. But he kissed the top of my forehead,
and pulled the bed sheets over us.
We both fell asleep promptly. I awoke
at some point in the night to the sound of Holmes dressing in the darkness. I
sat up groggily, worried he was regretting his decision, and that he was leaving
But Holmes leaned over and kissed me on the lips, his tongue
briefly darting into my mouth before departing.
“We mustn’t alert Mrs.
Hudson of our new relations,” he whispered. “I shall return to my room. But I
will be with you again tomorrow, or whenever you need me.”
I reached out
for his hand and squeezed it. “You do not regret this?”
my hand back. “My dear Watson, I told you it was possible I would have a liking
for such deviances.” He smiled devilishly at me. “I can honestly say I find
these activities extremely enjoyable. I believe we have solved the problem of
keeping you safe from indiscretion.”
I was glad the room was so dark,
glad that Holmes could not see the giddy, childish grin upon my face. I let go
of his hand. “Now I only fear Mrs. Hudson.”
Holmes laughed. “Then I best
be off. I’ll see you in the morning, old fellow.” And with a kiss on the
forehead, he was gone.
I spent the following afternoon making
discreet inquiries about lecturers at the symposium on mental disorders, and
found an address for Dr. Moore Agar. I was not able to speak with him directly,
as he had already returned to Liverpool. However I still carried a heavy burden
of how we had parted, and wanted to reassure him that all was well.
finally decided to send him a telegram, saying only “all is well with my friend,
out of danger,” and signing it with my full name. I received a response the
following day, which merely expressed gratitude at the news and passed on his
I thought little more of Dr. Agar after that, as I was utterly
satisfied with the developments with my relations with Holmes. As a lover, he
was exhausting, exciting, and reckless. And while there were long stretches of
time, especially during cases, when Holmes would not make himself available to
my advances, he amply made up for these periods upon the conclusion of an
investigation, or a brightening of his moods.
Three years later, I
received a card in the mail which informed me that Dr. Moore Agar had
established a practice of his own on Harley Street here in London. I made note
of it but did not pursue the doctor until March, when Holmes’ constitution
became fragile in the face of constant hard work of a most exacting kind,
aggravated, perhaps, by indiscretions of his own.
Holmes never took
interest in the state of his health, and he especially disliked my doctoring
him, pushing aside my concerns and ignoring all my pleas for him to seek medical
It was then that I remembered Dr. Agar, and his specific focus
on the disorders of an overactive mind. I worried briefly that my prior
association with Dr. Agar would prevent Holmes’ acceptance of his care, but as
Holmes grew sicker, I decided I had no other recourse than to call on Dr. Agar
and invite him over for a consult.
Dr. Agar was pleased to see me again,
after all these years. We met in his clinic, and discussed our business since
the last time we had chatted. I took the opportunity to apologize profusely for
the tragic circumstances of our last parting, but he showed no lingering malice
towards me regarding the occasion. When I informed him that I was actually
meeting with him to see if he would tend to the very man that had interrupted
our courtship all those years ago, Dr. Agar laughed, and said he would be happy
to, to return the favour of my friend’s discretion, and to show himself in
better light than that by which Holmes had last seen him.
Holmes was in a
foul mood that morning, and his mood did not improve when I entered the sitting
room with Moore Agar by my side. Holmes glared at me, demanding to know what the
meaning of this was. As I explained Agar’s special field of study, and why I had
invited him, Holmes grew petulant and morose. Nevertheless, he begrudgingly
allowed Agar to examine him.
Following his examination, Dr. Agar told
Sherlock Holmes that he had no choice but to lay aside all his cases and
surrender himself to complete rest if he wished to avert an absolute breakdown.
When Holmes restated the same arguments he had given me, Dr. Agar snapped at
him, saying that Holmes was at risk of being permanently disqualified from work
unless he were to give himself a complete change of scene and air.
attempted to pay Dr. Agar for his house call, but he refused, once again stating
that he felt it was fair payment for Holmes’ discretion. We parted amiably.
Holmes even mustered enough politeness to shake Agar’s hand on his way
Once Agar had left our suites, I sat beside Holmes on the settee,
and wrapped his shoulders with a blanket. He scowled at my ministrations, but
still snaked his long arm under the blanket in order to give my thigh a
“That was appalling of you, Watson. You should be ashamed of
yourself, trying my already ruined nerves by parading old lovers around
I rolled my eyes. Holmes’ hand crept higher, giving a friendly
squeeze at my crotch.
“He is a very good doctor,” I informed Holmes. “If
you won’t listen to me, then listen to him. He is quite serious, you know. You
must take a holiday, or you won’t be able to continue working.”
“I do not
“Well, there is always a first for everything.”
“If I am required to leave the fogs of London, then you must suffer as
well. You are coming with me.”
“I never intended to leave you.” I looked
back briefly to confirm that we were alone in the sitting room, and then chanced
a quick kiss to Holmes’ lips. He still pouted, but I saw a glimmer of arousal in
his eyes. He squeezed me once more.
“Fine then. I’ll listen to your
infamous doctor’s advice. But only because I owe him.”
“Owe him? You?” I
couldn’t hide my surprise.
Holmes gave me a lazy, sultry smile. “Why, of
course, my dear. I fared far better from his introduction into our lives than he
did. After all, I have you.”
I wrapped the blanket tighter around his
shoulders, giving him a hug. “Yes, Holmes. You have me.”
I rose and began
to make our plans for Cornwall.