*sneaks onto stage nervously*
Right, I know what you're going to say:
"You should be updating the other fics!? You know, the ones I actually WANT to read!?"
And I know, but it's taking me a while so let me just...*Thrusts fluffy johnlock at audience* Sorry!?
I am updating and I will get them up but just...not...now *flinches*
Anyway, this was originally just a ficlet on tumblr but I thought I might post it on here since you guys deserve something! It was prompted by the tumblr user aroundthesunlikeateddybear...
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"Sherlock…?" John's voice was groggy but Sherlock recognised the familiar tilt in it that conveyed it was a question.
Sherlock sighed, rousing himself from his sleep just enough to pay focus to the man whom he loved. It was but a regular morning in England, Sherlock may have even gone as far as to call it cliché. The sun streamed through his bedroom window in the way it is always described in fairy tales only fairy tales never explain about how if one happens to find themselves at a certain angle-like laid on your lover's chest for example-then the 'beautiful' sunlight hits one square in the face. The detective squinted and turned his head into John's chest to shade himself.
Sherlock thought he had answered but obviously he had just thought it and so he felt John shift under him with expected frustration. The covers moved off their tangled frames slightly as John looked down on the messy mop of curls resting peacefully on his torso.
"I know you're awake you bastard, answer me…" it was said with a smile and Sherlock tilted his chin to rest it on his army doctor's chest, fixing him with more of a sarcastic expression that was appropriate for the morning.
"I answered you" he felt his neck vibrate against John's chest as he spoke, his voice sounded deep and tired even to him. John smirked but tried to look serious.
"No you didn't."
It was Sherlock's turn to smirk now as he planted a mockingly hurt expression in his features.
"What, you mean to say you haven't developed telepathy? Honestly John, all this time. This is why I have trust issues you know?" He teased, his tone becoming more awake by the second. The doctor narrowed his eyes and settled back into his pillow, resting his arms behind his head.
"No you don't, stop lying." He sighed, his eyes drooping closed. Sherlock was content to leave it there but he wanted to know what the point of this conversation was.
"Well?" He asked, resting is chin to the side once more and squinting against the sunlight again, fortunately it was starting to creep slowly out of eye line. John hummed in question before apparently realising that they had gone off topic, he cleared his throat and Sherlock felt it on his cheek.
"Oh yes, I was just thinking…"
"Oh dear god John, don't hurt yourself…" He interrupted.
"…Oh very funny, anyhow, I was thinking about pets and stuff and-"
"No John, we're not getting a pet."
"No, I didn't mean like that I was just, well my favourite pet is a dog but then I don't really know what yours is?" He craned his neck down again to fix Sherlock with a curious look. Sherlock averted his eyes from the sun and passing London for a second to stare into John's deep blue eyes, using them as more of an anchor as he considered the question. He sighed and nuzzled his cheek back into his warm chest, bringing a nimble hand up to run his fingers over the skin on John's shoulder for a second, brushing over the scar tissue without so much as a flinch from John.
"Hm…pets…?"
"Yeah like, what would you really want to keep?" John urged, sounding generally interested in such a pointless and irrelevant topic. After a moment of thought Sherlock finally made up his mind, he smiled turned his gaze back out of the window.
"Bees, I think I'd like to keep bees…"
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Thanks for reading! Pleeeaaase leave a comment and maybe I'll write you a smutty (read as: kinky) Halloween fic *ironic wink to the audience*
Also, her prompt was "Bumble bees" In case you were wondering.