The First Time Meme

[treks]

THE ❝FIRST TIME❞ MEME

RULES!  ♥ Leave a comment with your character's name and fandom. ♥ When replying, RNG for a number between 1 and 7. The number you get corresponds with the kind of "first time" sex you're having ♥ Go from there! The sky's the limit.

THE LIST!  01] Romantic | You waited and waited and waited for the right moment to take this final step with your partner, and it really paid off; neither of you can imagine this night (or day!) to be any better than it is right now.  02] The Only Time | You know somewhere in your heart that you won't be getting a second chance for this. The relationship is forbidden, or they're moving away, or you're moving away, or something is tearing this relationship apart, and that may be the last thing you want. 03] Set-Up | ... Oh. Well. Someone nudged you and this other person together, the one that you may have loved or hated or been friends with your entire life. It isn't completely by choice, but it doesn't sound like that bad of an idea... Or maybe it does. Who knows? 04] Experience Difference | One of you knows exactly what to do, and the other doesn't! Maybe they're just a natural at this kind of thing... or maybe there's a thing or two they haven't told you yet. 05] Hesitant | One (or both) of you aren't quite sure if you're ready for this next big step... at the same time, you want this to happen, though the thought makes butterflies flutter around in the pit of your stomach. 06] Awkward | It feels like everything that can go wrong does go wrong. Relax? You can't relax! This is s-s-s-s-sex-- oh, boy, there's another mistake. 07] Wildcard | This is the "other" option. Choose any of the above or create your own! [credit goes to connikebox]

Comments

[whatyoulike]

[And Irene will sit there and read over his shoulder. Subtly at first, out of the corner of her eye. Then leaning a little closer. Then practically resting her breasts on his arm.

What? Just because she doesn't want him to make any special accommodations on her part, it doesn't mean she plans to let him read in peace. That would be tragically dull.

Besides, as it so happens, it is an interesting article — even if some of the finer details are going over her head.]

Next page, when you're ready.

[on_your_nerves]

[That makes him just...look over at her. Then back at the article, as he tries to pretend she's not there and that her breasts aren't resting on his arm.]

[He is just...going to read the hell out of this article. You are not there, Irene, you are not being distracting. This is science. It is far more interesting than well-dressed women who utterly fascinate him.]

[He turns the page.]

[whatyoulike]

[Under the pretense of getting a better look at one of the complex tables on the page, she wiggles further into his personal space. Now her hip is touching his hip, her knee is on his knee.

And all the while she's staring intently at the page and making little interested noises to herself under her breath because, really, this is just so fascinating. How Sherlock could possibly be distracted from it she will never know.]

[on_your_nerves]

[It's almost ridiculously domestic and yet there are undertones to it that are anything but tame. Eventually, he finishes the article--leaving each page open long enough for her to read first--and closes the journal.]

[There is a moment that he lays there with the journal on his chest and then he places it on his bedside table, edges away from her just slightly, and settles down in bed, head settling on his pillow, looking up at the ceiling. He doesn't climb under the comforter because she's pinning it down with her body, so he just wraps his robe around himself and closes his eyes.]

[There. Routine achieved. Nice try, Miss Adler, but you haven't managed to distract him or provoke any reaction in him whatsoever.]

[whatyoulike]

[Sometimes the games they play move as swiftly as checkers, other times they're more like Risk. Tonight is somewhere in the middle. Chess, maybe. It could go on for hours or end in a few decisive moves.]

It's awfully early.

[She props herself on her side, watching him.]

Are you that tired?

[on_your_nerves]

Completely exhausted.

[He's lying through his teeth.]

[whatyoulike]

[Toying with the edge of the comforter idly,]

Well, now I'm disappointed. Someone's done my job for me.

[on_your_nerves]

[That makes him blink an eye open. He closes it again.]

Mmm, surely you can be more creative in your innuendo than that.

[He lays there, looking bored and utterly disinterested.]

Then again, it'll be difficult to top "dinner" as a euphemism.

[For once, just for once, he's trying to get a rise out of her.]

[whatyoulike]

[In fact, the very first time she'd texted him that, it really had just been an invitation to dinner. It was only later that she decided to turn it into a half-joking come-on with more and more outrageous statements preceding it. And eventually it reached the point where it wasn't a joke at all.]

It took you long enough to catch on.

[Her tone is mild, not rising to the bait yet. Come on, Sherlock. "I'm not hungry. Let's have dinner." She knows how obvious that was.]

[on_your_nerves]

You were...persistent.

[His breathing isn't as calm as it could be. For someone who's supposedly trying to fall asleep, he seems more agitated--or excited--then someone who's winding down for the night.]

[whatyoulike]

It paid off.

[Whether she's referring to Karachi or something else is unclear. Still watching him from her position on her side, she pays special attention to the rise and fall of his chest. Uneven. Looks like a case of "I'm not sleepy, let's go to bed" from where she's sitting.

The hand that was playing with the comforter creeps over to touch the sleeve of his dressing gown.]

[on_your_nerves]

[He's quiet as she fiddles with his sleeve, eyes still closed, seemingly ignoring it.]

[At first.]

[Then, even though he keeps his eyes closed, his hand reaches out and his fingertips brush against hers.]

[whatyoulike]

[First contact, not counting her earlier attempts to distract. He was ignoring her then. Tolerating. This is a reaction, an actual response, and somehow it's made all the more significant by how fleeting it is. Internally she adds a captured pawn to her side of the board.

Her hand stills momentarily, fingers poised just above the fabric, then moves to rest on top of his.]

[on_your_nerves]

[Sherlock's eyes stay closed for a little while, and then he seems to come to some sort of decision and they flutter open. He turns on his side, still grasping her hand between them and looks at her, just lays there really looking at her.]

[whatyoulike]

[She doesn't blink, doesn't move except to stroke the back of his hand with her thumb.

Wisps of hair are coming loose from her elaborate up-do as a result of laying against the pillow, and her dress is still bunched up a good 4 or 5 inches higher than the actual hemline. It's a casual sort of disarray, born of comfort. She looks perfectly at home reclining there on her side.

Of course, she's not quite as calm as she looks. Her pulse sped up when he turned to look at her, and her mind is racing even faster as she tries to determine his intentions.]

[on_your_nerves]

[Now his other hand moves to her face, and the backs of his fingers brush gently against her cheek. It's a furtive gesture, almost shy. His fingers move to gently brush at those loose wisps of hair.]

[His actions might not be betraying what his intentions are, but she can probably see it in his eyes.]

[whatyoulike]

[There are things she'd like to do to him that aren't nearly so gentle, but the way he hesitates is strangely endearing and she decides to see how this plays out. She can be delicate when the occasion calls for it or, more rarely, the mood strikes. This might be a bit of both.

She wonders if moving closer will spook him and does it anyway.]

[on_your_nerves]

[It doesn't, but it does present an awkward situation in that their arms are crammed between them, and he's not sure what to do about it. It's not as if he's ever lounged around with someone else in the same bed before.]

[whatyoulike]

[Irene has significantly more knowledge regarding the logistics of these things, so, upon realizing Sherlock isn't going to do anything, she pulls on his hand to drape his arm over her waist. Her own arm slips around him in a similar fashion.

There. All better.]

[on_your_nerves]

Miss Adler...

[His hand is there for only a moment, just a moment, before he rolls over half on top of her, pressing an awkward kiss to her lips. When he speaks again, it's into her mouth.]

I think I'm hungry.

[whatyoulike]

[That actually takes her by surprise and, as it's happening, she only has time for a soft 'ah.'

His announcement, moreso than the kiss itself, sends a tingle through her body and she tilts her head just an inch or so for space to reply,] Good.

[Then she's pressing her lips back to his, urging him to follow along.]

[on_your_nerves]

[There's another kiss, a little less awkward this time and then just as suddenly as he was there, he rolls away to sit up propped up on his pillows on his side of the bed, with his arms folded over his chest, fingers clasped together.]

I know an excellent all-night Indian takeaway.

[Apparently, he has gotten in his head to be a tease. Whoever could he be following in example?]

[whatyoulike]

[She sits up rather sharply, a brief flash of annoyance crossing her features, and then, with forced casualness, leans back on her elbows. The game continues, but that's a point for him.]

I'm not in the mood. Thai?

[on_your_nerves]

Also not in the mood.

[Sherlock looks up at the ceiling and quirks his mouth thoughtfully.]

John left ice cream in the freezer. Fudge ripple.

[Next to the fungal stock cultures.]

[whatyoulike]

[Don't think she didn't notice that placement during her earlier snooping around. Though the ice cream at least had a lid on, so she's not going to raise a fuss about it. Besides, it gives her ideas.]

I suppose we can start with dessert.

[Already moving to get out of bed.]