Hello dear readers and reviewers!
watergoddesskasey : Thanks ;)
anksenamoon : Google traduction, c'est tricher! Now grab a dictionary and read in english! :p
madam loon : Linda is quite dumb sometimes, yes. I think she likes being the centre of attention... Obviously she's not, so she makes noise just to be seen :p
helenecolin : Are you sure? Well...
Boobunny60 : Maybe we should write a song about greediness (btw...I'm still waiting for your next chapter!)
PrettyLittleScars : Thank you :)
Something makes me think that you're gonna love this chapter.
If you do, review!
Thank you!
9 – How to piss a cook
It was the middle of the afternoon. They were back to 221B and sitting on the sofa. John was reading the newspaper – which wasn't easy with his left broken wrist - when he heard a muffled laugh. He looked up, Sherlock was laughing, he seemed deep in his thoughts.
"What is so funny?" John smiled.
"Nothing, I mean..." He turned a little to look John's face "You said I know what's in your head and it was true, you really did."
"Well that wasn't difficult to guess." John said and Sherlock laughed again.
Seeing Sherlock laugh like that felt good and without realising it he moved his hand in his direction, he was too far to be touched though and John's smile froze on his lips.
"Come here." He said softly. Sherlock's heart jumped in his chest. He slowly moved closer to the blond haired man and stopped just a few inches away. John cupped Sherlock's cheek in his free hand and stroke it lightly with his thumb.
"I..." John took a deep breath "Sherlock I don't want you to misinterpreted that, Maybe I shouldn't..." The doctor tried to remove his hand but Sherlock grabbed his wrist "It's just that I like it, when you are close to me..." He stroked the soft cheek once more. Sherlock didn't say a word but moved slowly, there was something he wanted to do. He laid on the sofa and rested his head on John's lap. He pressed the back of his head on John's belly and closed his eyes. He looked like a big cat having a nap and, like he would do with a big cat, John caressed the detective's hair lightly. They stayed like that for a long time, Sherlock was half asleep, his hand was now resting on John's lap. The blond haired man finally felt completely at ease stroking the brown curls tangling his fingers in the silky hair. Then something absolutely unromantic happened, John's stomach growled extraordinarily loud. Sherlock opened his eyes and slowly turned his head to watch John's face and the doctor chuckled.
"I think it's time to take you out for diner." The detective smiled.
"Ah! My favourite client! And his handsome boyfriend! Come in, come in!" Angelo said a little to enthusiastically, well, as always. The man led Sherlock and John to their usual table close to the window and lit the candle winking at John as he always do. But this time, the blond haired man didn't seem to bother.
"Are you going to eat?" John asked taking a peak at Sherlock's face from behind his menu.
"Depends on what you order." Sherlock smiled.
"What about vegetarian lasagne?"
"That's perfect." Sherlock smiled again and John shake his head hiding his own smile.
"Sooo... love birds, what will it be today?" Angelo appeared suddenly.
"Vegetarian lasagne for John, and...the usual for me. Thank you."
"All right, all right, green lasagne and a bottle of water. You know that, for you, the both of you, the food will always be free here, why don't you eat, I'm going to get upset, my food is good you know."
"Of course it's good, or I wouldn't bring John here."
"Well, well, lasagne, water, on their way..." The exuberant man went back to his kitchen.
John looked around them, the restaurant wasn't crowded, there were only two other couples in the dining room...other couples?...Where did this thought came from? Suddenly John turned his head and found Sherlock's eyes. The detective lent over the table, his hand run on the wood until it reached John's and he entwined their fingers.
"Would it be a problem if we consider this diner our first date?" He asked his voice soft and low.
John leaned over the table the same way, his face a few inches away from Sherlock's.
"No." He whispered "That's a wonderful idea." He smiled. His eyes looked down Sherlock's face and locked on his gorgeous mouth for a minute then up to his beautiful blue eyes. Kissing the detective right here, right now was really tempting, but it was a little too public a place for John, he wasn't ready for that. Sherlock saw John's dilemma and rubbed the back of the doctor's hand with his thumb.
"I talk, you eat, then we go back home?"
"That's a good plan."
"Here comes the water," Angelo said "aaaand," the two men leaned back on their chairs untangling their fingers "vegetarian lasagne. Bon appétit!" Angelo took his leave.
John looked shyly at Sherlock.
"Eat." The detective said.
"Angelo is right, his food is really good." John said while eating his first bite. "Do you want to taste it?"
"I'd love to." Sherlock crooned. John messily put some food on his fork (right hand).
"Open your mouth." The doctor whispered. The detective closed his lips around the fork and licked it clean, then swallowed.
"Mmmm, you're right, that's good." Sherlock said watching John in a really suggestive way. The doctor suddenly blushed.
"More?"
"Yes."
Suddenly Sherlock sharply turned his head to the window.
"John watch out!" He said throwing himself across the table. The glasses and the plates fell on the floor and, a second after, the window broke into pieces. Glass shattered and fell on their heads. "John, it's a bomb, someone threw a bomb through the window, move! Come on, faster!" Sherlock grabbed John's arm and run across the room. "Everybody down!" He yelled before pushing the kitchen's door. "It's a bomb, everybody down! For those who are close to the door, go out and call 999!" The two men ran out of the kitchen through the back door. They found themselves in a narrow alley, they run. John followed Sherlock blindly almost gasping for air. They didn't hear any explosion but they heard the fire truck's siren and the police's. After a while they stopped and Sherlock turned to face the man he loved. He put his hands on both sides of John's face.
"Are you all right? John, are you hurt?" He asked looking closely to the doctor's bruised face.
"It's nothing, scratches, that's all, nothing more than your own face." John said cupping Sherlock's cheek with his right hand. The detective frantically moved his hand on John's scalp, face and neck.
"I'm okay Sherlock, I'm okay." John caught Sherlock's eyes. The man looked uncharacteristically distressed. He stopped moving, holding his breath then suddenly he pulled John to him and imprisoned the man in a close embrace. His lips found John's and he kissed him desperately. The doctor clenched his hand on the detectives coat and kissed him back with the same eagerness pushing the taller man until his back collided with the closest wall. John bit Sherlock's lower lip, it hurt but the detective didn't care, he growled and his hands turned into fist in John's hair. The blond haired man slid his tongue in Sherlock's mouth and explored it a really long time, his hand now stroking the tall man's side lightly. The detective whimpered.
"Sherlock," John whispered on the brown haired man's lips and he opened his eyes "I told you I'd let you know when I'd found out what my feelings for you were."
"Yes?" Sherlock's body stiffen.
"Definitely not brotherly love." John kissed the detective's full mouth again, licked the swollen lips and, did he realised he was doing it, rubbed his body against Sherlock's. The detective lips moved to John's jawline, earlobe, neck. He nipped the skin as his hands run down the blonde's spine, grazing through the fabric of his jacket and shirt, he wanted to tore them off and growled in frustration. He rubbed his whole body against John's and he felt they were both really excited.
That's the moment Sherlock's phone chose to ring. The detective swore before answering, letting his left arm around John's waist.
"Keep on walking in that street, turn right at the crossroads. You can keep doing what you've been doing in my car but I'd prefer you don't. And, please Hurry." Sherlock growled.
"Who was that?" John asked when the detective put his phone back in his pocket.
"Mycroft is waiting for us."