ironmonger | (no subject)

(no subject)

The past few days are finally starting to take their toll on Obadiah when Milliways appears tonight. It's mostly over, save for tracking down the masterminds and dealing with them. Tony is fine - physically, at least - and Sherlock hardly the worse for wear despite the blow to the head he took. In terms of physical damage, the worst they got was Jones's broken leg. In terms of publicity, they're doing well; Stark Industries is front page news. Everyone likes a happy ending.

He's still looking very much forward to making the assholes in charge of the operation pay the price, but for now he's more than happy to settle in at the fireplace with a drink. And, at Bar's insistence, dinner.

[OOC: Warning for painplay and consensual breaking of safewords at some point after the six-hundred-comment mark. This one kind of got away from us.]

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"That it is," Sherlock agrees. "I am glad you like it."

He smirks slightly.

"I'm glad Tony liked it."

"I'm sure you are. I must admit I look forward to seeing you use it on him."

And not, of course, to using it himself. Because it is not Sherlock's gun.

"I'll make sure he gets plenty of time with it this time around."

Obadiah's only regret about that evening is that he wasn't able to hold out for those two minutes.

"Good. I want to watch."

Oh, the hell with it.

"In case you have had occasion to wonder," he says as lightly as possible, "I am the reason it fits you so well."

Obadiah pauses in the middle of a sip of whiskey.

"Beg pardon?" he says, before he realizes - oh. Of course.

"Tony doesn't have the memory for that kind of detail. I wanted to make a present of it. Mainly to him, I'll admit, but to you as well." He touches the side of his neck. "And I had no trouble remembering the shape of your hands."

It seems almost embarrassingly obvious now.

He refuses to let that trouble him, instead using the moment to glance toward Sherlock's neck and saying,

"No, I don't imagine you did."

Tracing the faint line of a bruise, he comments idly, "If you give me enough of these eventually I will no longer remember the precise locations of the first set."

He hmms a little.

"And how long would that take?"

"Oh, quite a while, I imagine. Depending on frequency, of course."

"That'd be quite a dedicated effort," he observes.

"Though I suppose it's not a memory you'd mind blurring a little."

"You'd be right about that," he admits wryly. "In fact, I expect it would be a very good idea to apply some layering to the rest of it too, before we try this with Tony."

Give him some memories of sex with Obadiah that aren't soaked in brandy and self-loathing.

"That sounds like a reasonable request," Obadiah says. "I think I could manage something for you."

He finishes off his whiskey and sets the glass aside.

"Thank you. Much appreciated."

"Did you have any special timeline in mind?" he asks courteously.

"No," he says, "not as such. I am happy to abide by your preferences, if any."

Sherlock is feeling very agreeable right now. It probably has something to do with the snuggles. He really does have a strongly positive reaction to friendly physical contact from someone he trusts.

"How does now suit you?"

Their conversation has, overall, been very stimulating, and Obadiah has some pent-up tension from the kidnapping that he could stand to release. Some good sex would fit the bill nicely.

"Perfectly," he says, and means it.

"And perhaps, if we are going to experiment with anything that might leave marks, we ought to do that first. So they will be as far gone as possible when the time comes."

Obadiah approves of this line of thinking.

"I am wearing a belt today," he says, though he knows perfectly well it's obvious even to anyone who isn't Sherlock Holmes.

"I'd noticed," he says dryly. "Would you rather beat me with it here, in the bedroom, or in your rooms?"

"My rooms," Obadiah decides, getting up.

Just to avoid leaving behind anything Tony might pick up on.

"All right."

Sherlock smiles and heads for the door, retrieving his shoes along the way. He isn't sure whether it is better or worse to do this in the same place the original trouble happened; better, he thinks.

Frankly, that connection hadn't even occurred to Obadiah.

Conveniently - as will occasionally happen in Milliways, when it wishes - his room isn't far away. He's unlocking the door just a minute later.

And Sherlock is quite cheerful as he follows Obadiah inside. He's looking forward to this.