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Sherlock’s head rested sideways against John’s legs. Even if John did want to move, he wasn’t sure he would ever hear the end of it. There was a movie playing, (it was his turn to pick that night) so really, he should have been paying attention. Sherlock’s curls were so mesmerizing though, he felt as if he could get lost in them rather than getting lost in his eyes.
He was kicked out of his little daydream when Sherlock moved to pick up a piece of cheese. John had made a little charcuterie board before watching the movie, and even though Sherlock whole-heartedly argued he ‘wouldn’t’ eat from it, he slowly started picking at it throughout the movie. Whether it was out of boredom or actual hunger John did not know.
“Why did you even make this?” Sherlock bit down on a cracker. “You could have just made sandwiches, or takeaway.” He said before shoving the rest of the cracker down his throat.
“If you don’t like it, stop eating it, and move your head I want some too. I can't reach.” Sherlock pouted. John couldn’t see it, but he felt it against his leg. He chuckled to himself, then leaned over to get his own cracker.
He took a bite and a bit of crumbs fell onto his lap, then some proceeded to fall further in between the couch and Sherlock’s back. The scene switched on their tv to a scene with two little hobbits and a skinny little white creature. The creature was sprinkling crumbs of lembas bread onto the blonde hobbit and throwing the rest off the side.
Sherlock pouted, he seemed annoyed. He had pointed out every wrong thing, or at least everything that was not logical in his eyes. John could tell he was itching to do it again. (When you’re watching a movie about mythical beings going on a trip to throw an evil ring into a big volcano, it’s a bit hard to be logical.) The detective shifted and gazed up at John.
“Alright spit it out, what’s wrong this time?” He glanced down at his boyfriend.
“The breadcrumbs.”
“The breadcrumbs?” He looked up at the screen and paused it. “Yeah, he’s gonna frame Sam for eating the lembas what about it?”
Sherlock looked at the screen, then back at him. “He sprinkled them over his back.” John remained silent; he didn’t get it. Though usually he never did. Sherlock was bound to explain he wasn’t worried.
Sure enough, Sherlock’s mouth started moving, and his explanation came.
“Why would he sprinkle them on Sam's back, why not under his mouth? Or his stomach? If he wanted to make it seem as if Sam ate the rest of their supply, he should have been smarter about it.” He twisted around and faced the tv again. “As well as the annoyingly obvious fact he didn’t even crush up the pieces small enough to be believable.”
John unpaused the tv and they continued watching. Inevitably Sam was kicked from the group, and Frodo was left alone with Smigol. Sherlock grinned to himself.
“Frodo isn’t very smart.” Sherlock remarked, grabbing another piece of cheese, and biting down.
“It’s not his fault! He is under the influence of the ring.” Sherlock was about to reply but John was quicker. “And no, you would not be any better than he would be, the ring would not enhance your intellect no matter how hard you believe it would.”
John wouldn’t admit it, but he grinned as well, he felt on the inside of a secret whenever Sherlock pointed anything out. It also gave him a sense of accomplishment when Sherlock was predictably right.
As much as the moment was nice, John eventually needed to use the bathroom. He felt bad, but he paused the movie and nudged Sherlock to get up. He did, but slowly, and he kind of sat in the same spot without moving. The blonde giggled to himself and walked off.
When he came back, Sherlock was still sat in the same position as when John had left him. When he saw Sherlock’s back though, he had to stifle a laugh.
Cracker crumbs clung to his upper back and a little along the back of his arms as well. Mr. “The crumbs are on his back” actually had crumbs on his back. Sherlock must have heard John come back because he turned his head and peered over at John. He was still attempting not to laugh, a thin smile plastering his lips.
“What? What’s so funny, what did I do?” Sherlock’s sleepy demeanor immediately brightened, mostly with concern but it still brightened.
“Your back.” John giggled a little bit.
“Yes. Yes, my back what about it?” He twisted his head in such a way that he could just barely see the top and middle parts of his back. Kind of like an owl, but bigger, and more Sherlock, and also he had to move his shoulders along with his head when he twisted too far. “Oh.”
Sherlock went a bit silent. He must have gotten a bit on him when John let the cracker crumbs fall onto the couch earlier, he was also shifting a lot on the couch. It would have been easy for any piece of lint, couch fluff, or in this case- cracker crumbs to get on him.
This was funnier though.
“Not so inaccurate now, huh Sherlock?” He walked over to the couch, and Sherlock made room for him. Though this time when he sat, he did not lay against John’s legs with his backside to the couch. This time he simply leaned up over his side and let his head rest over the doctor’s shoulder. John brought a hand up behind Sherlock and wiped the crumbs off Sherlock’s back, before wrapping it around his shoulders.
He grabbed the remote and unpaused their movie again, letting the characters run around on the screen once more. Though he could tell neither of them were really paying attention to anything other than each other.
Sherlock did not grab any more from the charcuterie board for the rest of the night.