Sherlock sat across from Dalen, his acoustic guitar in hand. He smiled as he picked on a few strings, as he debated on what song to play. He had that face on, that cute face he wore when he was deciding what he really wanted.
He fingered the fret board as he looked back up at Dalen. His heart did a drop, just as it always did when their eyes met. He never could wrap his head around the idea that someone out cared about it as deeply as Dalen Lacey did. "I love you," he whispered. He took a deep and not to mention, nervous breath before he started to play Smooth from Santana. Oddly, that song had always made him think of Dalen. It just felt right.
He hits the notes hard on his Gibson, his longer fingers gracefully holding down a string here and there.
Man it's a hot one
Like seven inches from the midday sun
I hear you whisper and the words melt everyone
But you stay so cool
He kept his eyes on the man sitting across from him. He noticed a blush creep up his cheeks and it made him smile. He tapped his foot as he played, his eyes closing as he lost himself in the chords and Latino rhythm of the song.
My munequita, my Spanish Harlem Mona Lisa
Your my reason for reason
The step in my groove
Sherlock jerked his neck a little as he played. Without a care in the world, he bit his lip and looked down, at his fingers as they danced around the fret board whilst he picked. He chuckled as he remembered how he'd acquired the pick he's got between his fingers. 'Some men,' he thinks, chuckling. John had him stand in last minute as a band mate to solve a case. The bassist threw him the pick and smiled. 'Hope you're as good as John says,' he'd told him.
And if you say this life ain't good enough
I would give my world to lift you up
I could change my life to better suit your mood
Cause you're so smooth
His voice is hoarse and deep from years of smoking and Dalen honestly doesn't think he's ever heard anything sexier. Sherlock lookedover at Dalen, practically undressing him with his eyes and a smile tugged at his lips.
And just like the ocean under the moon
Well that's the same emotion that I get from you
You got the kind of lovin that can be so smooth
Gimme your heart, make it real
Or else forget about it
He thinks he hears John downstairs talking with Mrs. Hudson but he ignores it. Dalen's on his mind. He continues to strum and he bites his lip. His eyes move to the floor, ghostly over a crack in the old wood floorboard. He can feel the music and he's never felt so alive. That's why he loves music.
I'll tell you one thing
If you would leave it would be a crying shame
In every breath and every word
I hear your name calling me out
Out from the barrio, you hear my rhythm from your radio
You feel the turning of the world so soft and slow
Turning you round and round
His shook his head a little, a few curls hanging loose over his forehead. He watched Dalen with a curious expression as he tapped his foot. His old english shoes patter against the rug beneath them. He smiled a little as Dalen curled up on the couch, crossing his legs under him. He looked too damn cute...
And just like the ocean under the moon
Well that's the same emotion that I get from you
You got the kind of lovin that can be so smooth
Gimme your heart, make it real
Or else forget about it
Or else forget about it
Or else forget about it, yeah
Forget about it, yeah
As he trails off, his breathing is ragged. It's a long moment before they exchange a good look. "All true, " Sherlock finally says. He reaches up and runs a hand through his unruly hair, pushing it back a little. "Every bit of it?" Dalen asks and he smiles, his boyish features seeming to light up. Sherlock's voice is deep as he answers. "Every bit of it, love."
The consulting detective leaned over, catching Dalen's lips for a long kiss. "You're such a sappy git," Dalen told him as they each pulled away for air. "But you like it," Sherlock said back and he hums in response. He smooths out any wrinkles that may have formed in his baby blue button down and rises from his seat on the couch. "I hope to God Mrs. Hudson doesn't come upstairs with John. Remember the last time she came up?" The two men laugh but inside, they feel like they're crossing their fingers that she doesn't.
(Author's Note: This is for RP. Shush to all of you for your bloody questions... My username on twitter is FuckingSherlock, in case you were wondering, you lovely lot. Wrore this for my best friend, wifey, and favorite RPer, Kelly. She and I are thinking about just packing our bags and running away from it all. That idea is sounding better and better as the days go on. *she laughs a litte*)