So hey! Been a while, I know. School and new girlfriend and everything...
But yeah! Here's a Welcome Back to me!
I'm also on AO3 now, under the same name. Thanks for reading and tell me what you think!
Get chocolate chips. SH
Are you going to eat them? JW
Experiment. Semi sweet, tollhouse. SH
...Fine. But only because I'm already at the store, Sherlock. JW
Hurry home. SH
You have no idea how wonderful that sounds. Today was hellish. JW
You can tell me when you get home, I need the chocolate now. SH
I can tell you, but you won't listen. 5 minutes. JW
Hurry. SH
God. You're normaly not the impatient. Whats this for, again? JW
Woman's alibi. SH
I don't possibly see how- Oh nevermind. JW
Sherlock was in the kitchen, furiously pulling ingredients out of the fridge and cupboards, not wearing a shirt.
John walks through the door and sighs when he sees the state of the kitchen. Brushing past his flatemate without so much as a glance he almost slames the bags on the counter. "Whats all this about, Sherlock?" He says, not, at that moment, processing that his friend was half-naked.
"Alibi. I told you. What happened to make your day hellish?" He said, grabbing the bag with the chocolate chips.
"Like you care," John grumbled, blinking at Sherlock, "Why aren't you wearing a shirt?"
"Tell me about your day first." He said, carefully measuring flour.
"I woke up late. We were out of milk so I couldn't have tea. I stubbed my toe and when I got to work I had a queue of patients who I swear were extra whiny today and one of the other doctors was out so I also had to take their patients and after work none of the cabs would pick me up so I had to walk home when I remembed that we had no milk so I got out my phone to text you but dropped it down a gutter and had to pay a homeless kid to get it for me. So I didn't have any money but we still needed milk. And then a dragon flew down and told me I had magic and needed to help Arthur achieve his destiny." John finished.
"What was that last part?" Sherlock had listened patiently, but when he heard the end he stood up straight and turned his head.
John grinned, "Just making sure you were listening. Anyway, I used your card to buy the chips and milk."
"That's fine." Sherlock finished mixing and had put a tray of cookies in the oven. He still wasn't wearing a shirt.
John watched him move, the spry muscles moving under pale skin, and looked away. "You know we share everything, it'd be easier to set up a joint account."
"Mycroft would think we were getting married." The timer had six minutes left on it, and Sherlock was melting what was left of the chocolate chips.
"Mycroft thinks we're getting married anyway, Sherlock." John's voice was resigned but he refused to look at him. "Look, why aren't you wearing a shirt?"
"I had to turn on the oven, it got hot in here. I also didn't want to spill things on it."
"Well now that you're done could you put one on, please?" John asked awkwardly.
"The oven is still on, John, and I have to melt these chocolate chips."
John threw his hands up and turned away to the counter to put on the kettle.
Sherlock pulled the bowl out of the microwave, stiring it.
John breathed in, calming himself. It was hot in the kitchen. He stripped off his jumper and layed it on the back of the chair. "Will there be any cookies left over when you're done with whatever you're planning?" He asked.
"Yes. I only need one or two." He turned, pacing the kitchen in long strides.
"Good. Where did you learn how to bake?"
"Cookbook." He said as the timer went off.
"Of course. And what's this for, exactly, Sherlock? I didn't know we had a case on."
"Just an alibi. Woman says she couldn't have killer her husband bebause she was busy baking cookies, and she pointed out chocolate on her apron and forearms. Lestrade emailed me the case, just to check how chocolate interacts with other ingredients and if it would look the same if she just melted chocolate and spread it on herself."
"And the conclustion?"
"Still working on it. Can I use you?"
John dropped the mug he was holding . It broke, splattering boiling tea all over him and the counter. "Shitshitshit." John said, stripping himself of his burning shirt.
"Perfect, that's just what I was about to ask you to do."
John glared. "What?" He demanded, using his shirt to clean up the broken ceramic and tea.
"I need to borrow your skin to observe the chocolate." He said, trying not to stare at John's abdemen.
John closed his eyes and counted backwards from ten. "Yeah, Sherlock, that's fine. Whatever. Let me clean this up first, yeah?" He needed to compose himself. The thought of that much skin next to his...he shivered.
Sherlock nodded and continued to stir the chocolate.
John nodded and finished cleaning up the spill, trying hard not to think of the wording, 'I need to borrow your skin.' He honestly wasn't sure wether it desturbed him or turned him on.
Sherlock watched John's muscles move under his tanned skin. It occurred to him that he had almost never seen his flatemate shirtless.
John saw Sherlock staring and turned almost inperceptivly o that his left shoulder was blocked by the rest of his body. For once he was very glad that he had gained back most of his shape from his army days.
Sherlock picked up one of the cookies to see if they were done.
"Right. Done. Ready when you are, I suppose."
"Can you sit down?" Sherlock asked, walking to the table and bringing the bowl and cookie try with him.
"Where?" John asked, crossing his arms.
"On the couch?"
John moved to sit down. "So you care about getting chocolate on your shirt but not the couch. Wonderful."
"It's the purple one." He said, raising his eyebrows as if that made it okay.
"oh." John said, he wouldn't voice it outloud but that did make it okay.
Sherlock knelt down and split a cookie in half. He dragged the ragged edge against John's adbomen, leaving a trail of chocolate.
John's eyes closed. "You're going to be the one cleaning up after this." He said. For some reason he felt adrenaline begin to course through his body, he didn't know why.
Sherlock picked up the bowl of melted chocolate and dipped his finger in, dragging it across John's chest, parallel to the one made by the cookie.
John bit his bottem lip and his heart picked up pace, adreanaline and Sherlock's proximity making everything extra sensitive.
Sherlock's fingers stopped right over John's heart, feeling it go faster. He glanced up at John's face.
John opened his eyes and looked down. "Getting the data you need, Sherlock?" He teased, "I thought you said she had chocolate on her arms." Not that I'm complaining, he thought to himself.
"I need the broadest expanse of skin on which to observe." He said, maintaining eye contact. "The chocolate needs to cool now."
"Then you shouldn't have put some over my heart," John said, eyes dialating ever so slightly at the proximity, "It's a warm area of the body."
"I'm observing different temperatures." and you, he thought to himself.
"How warm am I there, then?" John asked, talking about Sherlock's hand resting over his heart.
Sherlock looked at him, raising his eyesbrows, "Ah..." he took his hand off of John's heart, only to knock the chocolate bowl over and spill it on himself.
John laughed and a little tensions dissapated from the room, "Sherlock!" He went to try and help him clean up, "You normally aren't this clumsy, what were you thinking ?"
"I don't know what I was thinking." Sherlock lied. He was thinking about John.
"Lier, Sherlock. You always know what you're thinking."
"I just-I'm frusterated is all. I don't want to wait to find out the answer." He lied again hoping John wouldn't call him out on it.
John frowned at him and ran a chocolately hand across Sherlock's bare shoulder and chest.
"John?" He asked, his voice full of breath, shaking.
"What were you thinking about? You know I know you well enought by now to tell when you're lying. Your mouth twitches a little bit on the right side."
Johns hand was still on Sherlock shoulder. He decided to surrender. "Only if you tell me what you were thinking about."
"You." John's voice was confident, "But then again, I'm always thinking about you in one way or another.
"What-" Sherlock drew a shaky breath, "What is that supposed to mean."
"What do you think it means?"
"I have absolutly no idea."
John shifted so he was closer, noting the dialated eyes and quickened breath. He may not be a detective but he deffinitly knew when someone was attracted to him. "it means, Sherlock, that I'm going to kiss you, okay?"
Sherlock's eyes were wide when they meet John's. He nodded.
John leaned in. This, with the smell of chocolate in the air and the inviting lips of his very attractive flatmate, was exactly what he needed. He pressed his lips slowly to Sherlock's.
Sherlock closed his eyes, tasting, touching, smelling, John Watson. He breathed in and pulled away.
John's eyes opened and he looked at Sherlock for a moment before breaking into giggles.
Sherlock tilted his head at John, the question in his body language. Why in the world was he giggling?
"You have...chocolate...forehead." John said between giggles of him trying to get his breath back.
Sherlock went crosseyed trying to see his forehead, wondering at the same time why John was concerned with chocolate when he had just had a very gay moment with his flatemate.
John brought up his left hand and wiped at the chocolate. "I got it."
Sherlock stared at John. Was he going to acknowledge the kiss at all?
John stared back, eyes soft and fond. "Was it okay?" He asked, finally.
Okay? It was fantastic, everything seemed to fall into place and he felt wonderfully connected to John at that moment. He wanted it to happen again. "Did you think it was okay?"
"More then okay." John breathed out, barely audible.
Sherlock leaned forward slightly, quickly glancing down at John's lips before making eye contact.
"Sherlock..." His name was a peermission and a plea.
Sherlock leaned forward more, clumsily, pressing their lips together again.
John quickly took over, openin his mouth and asking Sherlock to do the same with his tounge.
Sherlock pulled back and sat on his knees on the couch, blushing.
"Sherlock?" John asked what was wrong.
"It's just-that-that was my..." he cleared his throat and looked at the ground awkwardly.
"I know," John said. "I also don't care and won't push you."
"You know?"
"I'm," John cleared his throat, "more experienced then a lot of people. I can tell."
"Oh. I didn't know it was that obvious." Of course John would be able to tell. Stupid.
"Only to me,Sherlock. In the same way I know when you lie by the tightening of your mouth and a twitch of your pinky."
Sherlock smiled. "i don't mind kissing...like that...could be just work up to it first?"
"Of course, Sherlock." John said, sitting next to him. "I think the chocolates melted."
Sherlock leaned down to observe John's chest. He pulled out his phone, typed a message and out it away. He sat up and leaned into a hug with John, breathing in. John smelled like rain and laundry and coffee, and he was warm.
John hugged him back, "You have no idea how long I've wanted this."
"Yeah?" SHerlock mumbled into John's neck.
"Yeah." John confirmed with a shiver.
Sherlock kissed his neck, gently, feeling how warm it was and how much it smelled like John. "Me too."
"Really?" John mumbled, breath speeding up.
Sherlock nodded, listening to the gentle rainfall on the roof. He sat up and kissed John on the lips.
John responded lovingly, one hand going to Sherlock's neck.
Sherlock tilted his head, moving his lips slowly. This was amazing. Sherlock would have been having sensory overload at the amount of data there was to be collected if he hadn't been so focused on John.
John followed Sherlock's lead. Blissed to finally have Sherlock's body pressed against his, his scent permeating his nose and his slightly chapped warm lips on his own.
Sherlock smiled into the kiss, threading his fingers through John's hair and tracing his lower lip with his tongue.
John almost moaned, opening his mouth carefully.
Sherlock learned quickly, his tongue slowly finding it's way into John's mouth.
John's tongue moved immedeatly to meet it, moving just as slowly but opening his mouth wider.
Sherlock pulled back immediatly. "How did you sneak a cookie without me seeing?"
John smirked, "Mum used to bake for garden parties. We weren't allowed to have anything. It didn't stop us." He was slightly, (very), breathless.
Sherlock smiled, "Well I collected that data I needed." He leaned in for another kiss.
"Good." John said before moving to meet his partner's lips.
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