Work Text:
Meat on sticks isn't really John's thing but Sherlock didn't give him the opportunity to say 'No'. No, since the 'not to be discussed- balcony incident' yesterday morning, conversation with Sherlock has been clipped exchanges of, 'No, Sherlock', 'Yes, John' and 'Fine'. So, the second day of their vacation hadn't seen some action. Not that John had plans. All he wanted was to have a peaceful week while dragging Sherlock away from his mind palace. Luckily, the rest of yesterday went, John, visiting souvenir stalls with Sherlock trailing behind him, and dismissing the women who tried to talk to him.
John sighs, he pokes the burning charcoal, making it glow in red. He places the barbecues vice versa, in a row, fanning the meat and waits until it's cooked.
Then the sound of the door creaking as it opens almost startles him. Glancing by the door with a cooked barbecue on hand, John sees Sherlock standing a few feet away from him, raven curls played by the wind. He ignored the flutter of butterflies in his stomach. That even as their eyes met, sharing a mutual connection, he ignored that same feeling. And instead, he nods towards the space in front of him, a silent invitation for Sherlock. Eventually, they ate together in silence, watching the orange sunset fade to black.