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    Summary

    I accidentally the Sunday morning nape porn. It’s not my fault. IT’S NOT MY FAULT. The Sunday Times was late, and it was an hour until brunch, and I got caught in the nasty. There was an elevator, and the back of John’s neck, and a hole in Sherlock’s pocket, and then some things that happened. Think of it as a quickie smut croissant. Rich and buttery. As the nape of John’s neck.

    (This is an older ficlet from Tumblr, posted here for those who love a good nape.)

    Language:
    English
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