Jan. 23rd, 2012

muir_wolf: (Default)
Sherlock isn’t happy with being short.

“Shorter,” John corrects in Sherlock’s voice, Sherlock’s lips twitching up in a smile.

Sherlock forces John’s lips into a scowl John’s never seen the likes of on his own face.

“I will remedy this,” Sherlock growls.

John just leans in to his oh-so-attractive face, enjoying the height advantage for a change.

“Oh Sherlock,” he says, sure that the grin on the face he wears must look odd indeed, “Surely you must bow to the great bloody wisdom of myself, Sherlock Holmes?”

Sherlock bares John’s teeth, and John just laughs and laughs and pulls him in closer. He knows Sherlock will solve it (Sherlock can bloody well solve anything) but for the moment, he’s more intrigued with the way his own mouth will taste against the one he wears.

Sherlock melts against him, his fingers curling into the jacket (his) that John’s wearing.

“Cor,” Sherlock says when they finally pull back, eyes twinkling a little as he imitates John, “Knew I’d be a bloody good kisser.”

January 2015

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