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Summary
John thinks he should probably explain to Sherlock a few of the finer points of romance. Wine, strawberries, a roaring fire on a winter's night. Sounds perfect, right? Leave it to Sherlock to find a way to make his own point, instead.
They’d been arguing (“Not arguing, John, we’re having a philosophical debate.”) over the concept of romance for the better part of a week. Sherlock, always direct in his attentions, hadn’t ever seen the point of it if not for shamming someone into doing something he wanted, in which case there were plenty of other ways that were much less complicated or time-consuming. John had just smiled at him and decided after their last go-round that demonstrating would be much more effective than explaining.
And it seems to be working, if the eagerness with which Sherlock opens his lips to accept the sugar-coated berry is any indication. John touches Sherlock’s lower lip with the fruit, leaving a tiny spot of sugar that Sherlock instinctively catches with his tongue. John’s breath hitches at the sight, so he does it again, only for Sherlock to smirk before slowly dragging his tongue across his lower lip.
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Bookmark Notes:
questo cute che degenera in smut perfezione
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