Archive of Our Own ^beta

           
           
           After a loud slam of the door shutting followed after a client whose case was deemed too annoying and boring for Sherlock. Who is sitting in his own respective armchair that is in-front of John’s, hands resting under his chin thinking of a way to get himself out of this vicious bored state he is in. Before rummaging in his trousers’ pockets for a lip balm. Parting his lips as he applies the clear moisturizer on the thin lips of his, while John’s standing in the kitchen watching closely every move Sherlock’s making. Not removing his eyes off of whatever he’s looking at.

“What are you doing?” Asking in curiosity like he didn’t just watch the entire thing happen infront of his eyes. Not missing a millisecond.

Sherlock’s confused from the stupid question, he hates stupid questions. “What, this?” Looking at the lip balm in his hand while his other is still under his chin. “Oh, just a moisturizer. Started to notice whenever I’m licking my chapped lips it interrupted my train of thoughts, and you know how important that is to me, John. So, this greatly helped in softening my lips.”

John staring at the ceiling trying to contain a giggle. “Your, chapped lips, interrupted your train of thoughts?” Repeating the detective’s words like they are much worse than his most ridiculous deductions he could make up from just someone’s facial expressions.

“Yes, John. I think I made myself clear that is the issue I was facing. Do keep up.”

Rolling his eyes, he’s currently not in the highest level of boredom that he opts out to pick a fight with John in this time of day. Maybe later tonight when he still has not found a thing to occupy himself and his restless brain.

“… Er, O-kay.” Was all John could reply with. Trying to exist his way from the kitchen to his room upstairs to escape the awkward conversation that he started.

“Ugh, just tell me what it is on your mind, Watson. I could sense a billion questions on the tip of your tongue,” Anything that could distract him from currently being case-less. Specially when it centered around John Watson.

“Can I touch…?” John turned his face back almost immediately infront of Sherlock. Instantly saying what’s really on his mind when he was pressed about it. “If you don’t mind, that is.”

The consultant made a confused face, scrunching his nose, eyes looking elsewhere. Actually for once taking a second to think before speaking “Touch what, my lips?” Before finally focusing his eyes on John who didn’t reply to the question. Leaving it hanging, like he was teasing him about the obvious.

“Sure, I don’t see how I would mind that, coming from you, my dear Watson.” Closing his eyelids shut as he gives him full permission to do whatever he wants. Trusting him to not cross the blurry lines of the boundaries between them.

All the ex army doctor was able to do was gulp down dryly, taking large steps towards where the detective was sitting down. Knowing he had the number of steps he needed to take from that exact location he was standing in completely memorized; the reason why he’s so confident with closing his eyes.

Stopping infront of a sitting Sherlock, who he knows feels the presence of his body right where he needs to be. Slightly hovering his hand over his long, gorgeous face, not knowing where to place his unsure hand, as he finally takes in the image of his glossy lips up close and personal. Staring downwards at the shine the moisturizer indeed gave him, the silence stretched in the room where there wasn’t a single sound but both of their shallow breaths and John’s heart beating a little too fast for just staring at his friend’s lips.

Finally feeling brave enough to plant his probably cold hand on his face, as softly as he knew he was capable of. Softness reserved only for Sherlock Holmes. Knowing his hand does not have the most velvety feel, having slight of roughness to them from his past and current job. Yet still finding Sherlock tenderly humming and nuzzling against his hand. If he wasn’t so simply focused on him with all his senses, it would have slipped right by him.

Gulping down again, seemingly even more dry. As he brushes a thumb against his lower lip, wiping off his lip balm on his finger. Feeling how soft it feels, just like how it looks from that corner of the kitchen. Just for the detective to open his eyes, instantly looking into his flatmate’s own irises. Seeing how blown out they look filled with hunger and desire from just staring at his lips. Unbothered by Sherlock’s sudden contact. Feeling his cheek move inside of his hand, speaking in the silent room,

“So, what did you deduce?”

The man not being able to think about any other words to describe how it feels under his fingertip “Dangerously soft…” almost a whisper.

“And…?” Wanting him to continue on, explaining every detail that caught his attention. Raising his eyebrows, staring up the still standing John who hasn’t attempted to even move an inch.

Watching as his chest rises and falls, taking in a big breath. Almost readying himself for something, “… And.” Trailing off what the taller man asked, as he dives down to plant a kiss on his agonisingly soft mouth of his. An answer to his several questions.

Delicate in his contact, leaving enough of a room for Sherlock to push him away incase he read the tension between them incorrectly to find out he’s the only one craving the kiss. Pleasantly finding slender fingers against his chest, atop of his rapidly beating heart.

Bordering on the edge of the kiss becoming more than just a peck, the smarter of them not registering fast enough to kiss back before John broke it off. Scared of being solely driven by his desires any further where he risks the point of breaking the fragile situation both men are in.

Straightening himself; as he sees the beautiful flush that colored Sherlock’s pale skin. Almost, almost matching the color of his now lightly tinted lips. Diving his hand that was once on his cheek in his bouncy curls, ruffling it trying to bring Sherlock back to earth. Who hasn’t blinked once since the kiss broke, suddenly alerted by the new data stored in his endless mind palace,

“You need… to do that again. Please—” Almost begging the man, breathless, adding John’s kisses to his list of extremely dangerous drugs.