Work Text:
John liked the hat – the death frisbee or ear hat as Sherlock always called it. He thought about it from time to time, liked to picture Sherlock wearing it.
The first time the hat made an appearance in his thoughts, John was dozing off on the sofa. Sherlock was rambling on excitedly about a new and interesting case, a serial killer, Sherlock's favourite. In John’s dream, he insisted that Sherlock wear the hat when they went out looking for clues and after much protest, the detective agreed.
John woke up smiling and later that night put a picture of Sherlock wearing the deerstalker on his blog.
After that the dreams and thoughts got a little more... distracting. Each time he thought of the hat, Sherlock was wearing a little less. Each time, John got more and more aroused.
He never admitted any of this, but Sherlock figured it out. Of course he did.
"Is this what you wanted, John?" Sherlock asked with a raised eyebrow. "You wanted me to wear the hat?"
John froze in the doorway of his room and took in the sight before him. He licked his lips, trying to remember how to speak, suddenly uncomfortable in his jeans and harder than he'd been in awhile.
Sherlock, naked except for the hat, was posed suggestively on his bed.