Popsicle Love
John is hyperaware of every, single movement that Sherlock makes. He's getting hotter just watching the man.
"Sherlock, how-" he starts, but chokes himself into silence. It's pointless; he's asked before. Sherlock brushes him off each time. Instead of trying to voice a question once again, John just fixes his fingers on the uppermost button of his button-down shirt before unclasping it. He reaches down to snag the newspaper off the floor, folding it up before he begins to fan himself.
He's too hot. He is too hot.
"I think I might take a cold shower," he says aloud. Sherlock gives him a look that is altogether meant to be disgusted, although John can't quite figure out why. "What? It's over one hundred degrees in here, Sherlock, and some of us normal blokes are actually affected by it."
"You're only hot if you're letting yourself think that you're hot. It's all a by-product of your mind," Sherlock replies in a tone, looking back to the microwave where he is housing an experiment. "I keep telling you that."
"Well, Sherlock, it's not helping. Some of us don't have a mind palace that's air-conditioned!" John hisses as he stands, tosses the newspaper onto the floor again.
"Oh, don't be ridiculous."
John lets out a quick exhale, clenching and unclenching his hands. He isn't particularly irritated with Sherlock despite his verbal assault; it's just, his temper has gotten more lax as the temperature has continued to climb. It's not his fault. He's just... hot.
"Let's go out."
John's head snaps up as the consulting detective speaks, as the consulting detective moves away from the kitchen.
"Go out? Go out where? And why?"
"We'll go to the parlor. I'll treat you."
"T-The parlor? The ice-cream parlor?" John just has to ask. He just needs to make sure that he and Sherlock are on the same page.
"Naturally."
Sherlock walks to the door where he hangs his coat. John's temper, spurred on by disbelief, snaps. He launches across the room faster than he has moved in some time, cutting off the consulting detective. "No," he announces.
"You don't want to go?" Sherlock looks genuinely stunned.
"No, I mean, of course I want to go, but you're not wearing that coat. You're already wearing that Westwood-"
"It's not Westwood-"
"No."
Sherlock stares at John with a look that half reads annoyance. With the other half, Sherlock looks almost, remarkably, uncomfortable. "But, John-"
John refuses. He will not walk down the street next to a lunatic wearing a heavy coat. They would look even more crazy than they normally did. Sherlock swallows before he turns away, heading down the stairs. John almost basks in the glory that he won an argument before he- quickly- decides that ice cream sounds more enticing right now.
John's halfway through his banana split before he realizes Sherlock is fidgeting. He pauses with his spoon halfway to his mouth, a frown crossing his features. He is suddenly very suspicious.
"Sherlock?"
Sherlock's eyes snap back to him.
"Is something wrong?" John sets his spoon down reluctantly. It's not much cooler outside, but there's a bit more air and the ice cream is delicious. Even more so because Sherlock has paid for it.
"No," Sherlock replies.
John knows there's something on Sherlock's mind, although he doesn't press it. Instead, he does something that he normally wouldn't do: he offers his spoon. Even Sherlock looks a bit surprised.
"What's that for?" the latter questions.
"Want to try?" John asks.
Sherlock blinks before he takes the spoon, dipping into the strawberry ice cream portion delicately. John watches him with a tad of amusement. It suddenly clicks, then. Why Sherlock looks so awkward, so out of place. Why he looks uncomfortable. Why he looks... well... normal to the human eye but different still to John. Without a word, John stands. Sherlock's eyes are immediately back on him.
"John?"
John shakes his head briefly, walking back to the parlor counter. He orders a strawberry cone and meanders back to the table afterwards.
"Taking one to go, are we?" Sherlock muses. "It'll melt before you get-" He stops suddenly.
John is offering the cone to him.
"John..."
"You like strawberry, right? You had three options in my sundae and you went straight for the strawberry. So, have the cone."
"Uh, no, that's fine. Thanks, but-"
"Sherlock, it's melting, take it," John retorts. The melting ice cream feels good on his fingers, but he knows all too well that it'll get sticky and he doesn't need the napkins sticking to his fingers.
Sherlock takes it with a somewhat disgruntled look and John licks the strawberry off of his fingers. "In apology for not letting you wear your coat," John says thoughtfully, although he fights the urge to roll his eyes. He had realized a few seconds ago, though, that this is one of the only times that he has seen Sherlock without it. To Sherlock, it's probably a weird feeling to be without it.
"Right," Sherlock says briskly, looking almost as though he would like to comment on that, but his cone is beginning to drip again. He looks briefly helpless and concerned.
"Oh, Sherlock, didn't you ever go out for ice cream as a kid?" John laughs, picking up his spoon again.
"Umm..." Sherlock begins, licking his cone almost hesitantly, "no."
John makes a face and shakes his head. "You've missed out, Sherlock, you've missed out."
"It's just a bit of frozen-"
John looks up when Sherlock starts talking, and promptly bursts into laughter. Sherlock pulls up short before scrubbing a hand across his mouth, looking almost embarrassed. "I don't understand the mechanics of it!" he says hotly. "It's always melting and dripping! It's impossible to save one side of the ice cream without the other side melting!"
"Nothing's ever impossible, Sherlock," John teases, and tucks into his banana split again.
I feel like there isn't enough of this stuff. This NOT SLASH, very lighthearted material. Sherlock seems a bit OOC, even to me, but take away his other layer (see: his coat) and BAM! He's instantly unsure of himself. xD I don't know. I think it's cute. So. There. And I also can't picture Sherlock ever really licking an ice cream cone or popsicle. It just... Am I the only one? I just can't conjure the picture canonically.
Title words from Love Sick Stomachache/Sugar Coated Accident, the song.
Do you like it? Tell me below. And, additionally, tell me your favourite kind of ice cream. Because. Ice cream sounds really good right now. And I'm just curious. :P Thanks!