Butterscotch

"Sherlock what is that? What are you doing?"

"Shh John," he murmered, continuing. "Go back to sleep if you wish. I'm experimenting."

There was no way John would be able to go back to sleep. He could feel that his naked body was no longer covered by the blanket. And he could feel Sherlock's wet fingers smothering something over his chest.

"God I'm not going to sleep now," he grumbled. "What are you doing to me?"

"Trying something. Have I ever told you I had a sweet tooth?"

"I kind of gathered since I never get to see my strawberry jam anymore. What is that you've got there?"

"Butterscotch."

Sherlock dipped his head down and began to flick his tongue over John's skin, lapping up the sauce like a hungry cat. John couldn't help but grin as Sherlock and he made eye contact, that devilish glint taking over the detective's eyes.

While most of the time Sherlock was an absolutely insufferable partner, it was moments like this which made it all incredibly worthwhile.