A/N: Hello, people!
I don't own Sherlock.
I have no beta.
ENJOY!
CHECK ME OUT ON TUMBLR. HELLY-WATERMELONSMELLINFELLON.
-John and a peppermint stick. A deadly combo.
9 December 2015, Wednesday:
John was licking a red and white striped peppermint stick and Sherlock was trying to ignore it, but the way John's tongue just danced and glided over the striped sweet made the consulting detective's trousers become tight.
He was only going to let John have hot cocoa when alone at home, because he looked much too good in such a position and the patrons of Angelo's restaurant had a perfect view of it.
The first snow to hit London had occurred over the night. At least thirteen cm of white covering the ground. John had beamed upon realising that they'd get a white Christmas. The former two years had been lacking in snow depth. A a couple centimeters at most.
Sherlock had decided that after a small case that was simply a waste of their time, they'd drop by Angelo's and have some lunch.
John had gotten cocoa instead of his usual tea and Sherlock's nose twitched every time he licked the peppermint stick.
John of course, chose that moment to be observant and smirked at him, dipping the sweet into his now minty cocoa and giving it a long suck, pulling it through puckered lips.
"I'm curious, John. Do you possibly have other oral fixations?"
John was not offended in the slightest. He simply smirked and said, "Wouldn't you like to know."
Sherlock saw it as the challenge it was and immediately made a mental note of it. When he reached Christmas Day, he was going to see all of John, in person. He was going to reveal every secret fantasy and kink John Watson had and it would only be him who got the privilege.
"Anyway," John continued. "I'm sure you can devote your mind to more than one thing. Or was today's photograph too much to handle?"
It was a taunt. John obviously knew what it was and he was teasing Sherlock. Teasing him on whether he was purposefully ignoring the mental image by trying to change the subject constantly and keeping busy.
"I can handle it perfectly, thank you," said the consulting detective, stiffly.
John glanced under the table and smiled, "Yes, I suppose you can."
Sherlock angled his front away from John by twirling in his seat to sit sideways, crossing his right leg over his left. "Exactly. Though as we're on the subject, perhaps you'd allow me to cover your body with chocolate and allow me to lick it off?"
Sherlock couldn't hold back his giggle when John choked on his cocoa.
Yes, I can play that game rather well, John.
Just because the photo of the day was a profile of John against Afghanistan's setting sun, doing inverted sit ups while nude, curled halfway up with his erection pressed against his tight abs, didn't mean that Sherlock wasn't capable of cognizant thought. Sherlock had good self control when the situation required it. At home, it was not required, but he was able to control his mind palace well enough that even though he was thinking of John's photo, he hadn't brought up the image for his feasting, mental eyes.
Besides, a public toilet was in no way a place to relieve oneself.
Sherlock could wait for home.
He was good at waiting.
A/N: Another is done!
How was it? Let me know.
Check out my other fics.
See ya! :D
CHECK ME OUT ON TUMBLR. HELLY-WATERMELONSMELLINFELLON.