Prompt: It's Sherlock's birthday. John knows his chubby husband will be putting away plenty of birthday cake and encourages him to eat as much as he likes- but he didn't expect him to finish the whole cake.
John cracked another egg over the frying pan. He watched it as it sizzled, a small smile on his lips that had little to do with the sunny yellow yolk. His tongue poked out a bit in concentration. It had to be perfect today. It was his husband's birthday. The first one since the two of them had gotten married. Perhaps that was what induced that tender smile, the thought that this was the first time he was cooking birthday breakfast for Sherlock as his husband.
Once the sunny side up egg was deemed perfect, John carefully slid it onto a plate that was waiting nearby, already bedecked in a large mound of freshly made chips and two slices of buttered toast. John sprinkled salt and pepper over the lot, then placed the plate on a tray and put two cups of tea on top of it. He carried it into the bedroom and set it on the side table. Sherlock was still asleep, mouth open and breathing deeply. John chuckled and Sherlock shifted, his nostrils flaring.
The detective's eyes slid open and he smiled at John sleepily.
"Morning."
"Morning yourself, Gorgeous," John murmured, leaning in to kiss his forehead. "And happy birthday. I made your favorite."
"Oh," Sherlock purred, pushing himself up to sit and wetting his lips as he looked at the tray, "Thank you, John."
"Course," said John, smiling and helping to get them situated so that Sherlock could eat. The doctor noted with another fond smile that Sherlock's belly now brushed the tray when he sat up. Wedded bliss rather suited them both, but Sherlock was the one who had put on the bulk relationship weight. He was approaching adorably chubby, his middle soft and round, his face fuller, thicker thighs, and a cushy bum. It did suit him...
"I am a little surprised," Sherlock murmured, once he had cleaned the plate and was sucking salt from his long fingers, "I had thought there would be cake." He looked over at John, mirth dancing in his eyes.
John laughed and kissed him, then took his husband's saliva-slickened fingers in his hand. "Later," he promised, then sucked on Sherlock's knuckles himself while the other man hummed, tone growing deeper and deeper as John made his plans clear.
John had ordered Sherlock's cake specially. He didn't trust himself to bake it correctly, but he knew there was a bakery that Sherlock sometimes dreamed about. They'd catered the wedding and Sherlock had eaten nearly half a tier on his own. John smiled at the memory. Perhaps he shouldn't have been surprised that Sherlock would grow into a chubby man once married.
John unveiled it just after Sherlock had opened his gifts. The detective's eyes grew wide and shining as they took in the beautiful double layer cake before him.
"And yes, it's the red velvet sort," John chuckled, smiling as Sherlock groaned, "Have as much as you like, love."
John cut them each a piece of it, carving through rich fondant, moist cake, and creamy pale icing. His own piece was more of a sliver, but Sherlock's was more than generous. John's vice had never really been sweets and he wanted his husband to have all he desired.
Sherlock hummed and moaned his way through his first slice, then quickly cut himself a second, just a generous as the first.
"Good, huh?" John asked, smiling. He was nursing his cake, more interested in watching Sherlock enjoy himself. And the detective most certainly was. John smiled and took a drink of tea as Sherlock went back for more. There was frosting on the man's lips, even a dab on his nose from overzealous eating, crumbs littered the plate.
"Oi, you're not going to have room for dinner," John admonished lightly, chuckling and prodding Sherlock's squishy side.
"Cake can be my dinner," Sherlock replied nonchalantly, "It is my birthday. You said I could have all I pleased."
John smiled, then felt his jaw drop a bit. Sherlock, having finished his most recent piece, had gone for more. But this time he hadn't bothered cutting out another thick slice, he'd just dipped his fork into the entire cake.
Sherlock made a soft indulgent noise, his hand wandering down to his rounded belly. He gave it a pat. John felt his mouth go dry. He drank more tea.
"Need some help?" John asked, his voice becoming gruff.
Sherlock hummed in response, looking over at his husband with sugar-addled eyes. John grinned and dug his own fork into the cake, then held it to Sherlock's mouth.
"Mmm... far more efficient," the detective praised, eyes slipping shut as cake reached his mouth twice as fast. Within the hour, every last bite of the cake was gone and Sherlock was round and lazy. He was reclining against John on the sofa, eyes shut and hands resting on his cake-stuffed belly. John was lovingly picking up the last of the crumbs and icing with his forefinger and letting Sherlock lick them off. Sherlock's stomach rumbled and he let out a burp. Then he groaned.
John smiled and dipped his head to kiss the man's curls.
"'scuse you," he teased.
"Shut up," Sherlock retorted lazily. They both smiled. John reached down and began rubbing his husband's swollen belly gently.
"Feeling okay?"
"Hmm..." answered Sherlock, muffling a hiccup,"Very. But John. There is one more small matter I think you can help with."
"Yeah?"
"Move your hand just a bit lower," Sherlock directed with a smirk.
"I can do that,' John said, a small smirk of his own appearing. He rubbed down over the curve of Sherlock's birthday belly and slid his fingers under the man's waistband. Sherlock sighed and tilted his head up to kiss John's neck.