Work Text:
“Sherlock, why are you painting your nails?” he had asked as he entered the room and put away the groceries. Sherlock had flushed a little before his features smoothed out.
“The case. The one where she poisoned her lover using nail polish containing venom.”
“I really wouldn’t recommend painting your nails with venomous nail polish, Sherlock,” he had replied as he attempted to clear a space for some food.
“I did that during the case, John, what use would it be to paint my nails with poisonous polish after the case?”
“I don’t know. Experiment?” he had muttered distractedly as he peered into the biohazard that is their fridge. Eventually he had given up and placed the bags on a clear space in the counter and walked back to the living room to stare as Sherlock had put another (glittery) layer of polish atop a vibrant purple nail. “That just brings me back to my original question. Why are you painting your nails? You said it was for the case and now your saying it’s not.”
Sherlock had sneered at John, giving him his best 'You’re such an idiot John’ look and opened his mouth. The expression had faltered and Sherlock had looked something akin to embarrassment to John’s surprise. “I, um, wanted to.”
John’s surprise furthered. “You just felt like painting your nails.” he had replied, slightly disbelieving.
Sherlock had bristled and replied coldly “I don’t have a case. You were out. I was bored. It’s a new skill I’ve picked up.”
“It’s fine, Sherlock. It looks good.” He had responded which earned him an uncertain smile from Sherlock. As for things Sherlock did when he was bored, this one certainly seemed the most harmless. He had made to leave the room before he heard a quiet plaintive “John?”
“Yes?”
“Could I paint yours?” He had questioned nervously.
Which had brought John to sighing and staring down at Sherlock and his nail polish collection which John still isn’t sure how he obtained.
John has always found it difficult to say no to Sherlock, especially when the request is not outrageous and Sherlock is looking at him with the sad puppy eyes he’s perfected. Resignedly he nods and can’t help but feel it’s just a little worth it as Sherlock beams up at him and leaps of the floor to guide John to sit on the couch. Sherlock returns to the floor, sitting by John’s feet.
Sherlock turns back to look at his assortment of nail polish, then back to John, then back to the polish. And oh god. Is he choosing which colours suit John best?
Sherlock grabs a blue that John can’t help but notice is a similar colour to his eyes and a green similar to a jumper he owns. Sherlock then takes John’s tanned, calloused hand in his pale, delicate, (glittery, rainbow coloured nailed) hand, and places it on John’s knee.
Sherlock takes out the blue polish first and begins painting his alternate fingers with it, the taking hold of his right hand and doing the same with that. he then does the green and unthinkingly John scratches his nose with the hand Sherlock is not currently painting. Sherlock lets out a displeased noise and frowns at John with a dismayed expression. John is loathe to admit how adorable it is.
He watches Sherlock painting his nails with such intense concentration and it really is hopelessly endearing.
When he finishes John notices the way Sherlock’s hand linger on his for a moment more than was necessary. Sherlock admires his handiwork work with a please expression then looks up at John with that lopsided grin.
John really can’t help himself as he gets up, grabs with him Sherlock and hauls them so they’re pressed flush against each other. Sherlock stares at him, eyes wide.
“Can I-?” he asks quietly. Sherlock looks frozen, the only indication he gives of his consciousness a nod, more a slight jerk of the head.
John leans in and presses their lips together, giving Sherlock time to acclimatise before he moves. Sherlocks lips are soft and plush against and the kiss is chaste and gentle. He pulls away to look at Sherlock who still looks stunned.
“You-“ Nothing else seems to be able to make its way out of Sherlock’s mouth and John grins at the unheard of situation.
“Yes.” He replies and reconnects their lips. Sherlock begins to respond, moving his mouth eagerly against John’s. They pull away and John looks at Sherlock whose eyes are bright and slightly dumbfounded. Whose cheeks have a delicate flush to them and whose lips are red and wet and shaped into a small, appallingly happy smile. He sees his own expression mirroring it in Sherlock's eyes. John thinks they're the colour of a stormy sky reflected in the sea.
He can't help but kiss him again, he thinks he'd quite like to kiss Sherlock forever. Without breaking the kiss, John moves backwards to sit on the couch and Sherlock follows the movements and clamber onto John's lap, making little moans and mewling noises as John deepens the kiss. John grins as he cards his still wet nails through Sherlock's curls and when Sherlock is too far gone to care.