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Literature Text
The Waiting Game
It has been almost 3 weeks since John and Sherlock had finally decided to take their friendship to the level of romance, much to the pleasure of Mrs Hudson, Harry, Lestrade and possibly Mycroft. But in all that time neither John nor Sherlock had made the move to kiss one another. They both wanted it; they just didn't know how to go about it. Sherlock didn't have much expertise in the area, and John was just plan worried he would startle Sherlock to the point of frightening and possibly running.
One particular evening Sherlock was lounging on the sofa, with his pyjamas and silk robe flowing majestically around him, not taking in much of his surroundings. He was focusing on John, who at that moment decided to look in the direction of him from his chair. He smiled gently before returning to his blog. Sherlock had enough; he got up, walked over to John and almost threw the laptop off him before passionately kissing John. John responded eagerly, leaning into Sherlock, tangling his hands in Sherlock's hair. They explored each other's mouths with their tongues, Sherlock cataloguing each feeling and taste into his mind palace. John eventually broke away, panting.
"You have no idea how much I have wanted to do that" Sherlock breathed
"Oh, I know Sherlock, I might not be the world's only consulting detective but I've seen the way you eye me." John teased, arousing Sherlock immensely.
Sherlock stood, dragging John up with him. He kissed John again before pulling him along to his bedroom. He was sick of playing the waiting game.
It has been almost 3 weeks since John and Sherlock had finally decided to take their friendship to the level of romance, much to the pleasure of Mrs Hudson, Harry, Lestrade and possibly Mycroft. But in all that time neither John nor Sherlock had made the move to kiss one another. They both wanted it; they just didn't know how to go about it. Sherlock didn't have much expertise in the area, and John was just plan worried he would startle Sherlock to the point of frightening and possibly running.
One particular evening Sherlock was lounging on the sofa, with his pyjamas and silk robe flowing majestically around him, not taking in much of his surroundings. He was focusing on John, who at that moment decided to look in the direction of him from his chair. He smiled gently before returning to his blog. Sherlock had enough; he got up, walked over to John and almost threw the laptop off him before passionately kissing John. John responded eagerly, leaning into Sherlock, tangling his hands in Sherlock's hair. They explored each other's mouths with their tongues, Sherlock cataloguing each feeling and taste into his mind palace. John eventually broke away, panting.
"You have no idea how much I have wanted to do that" Sherlock breathed
"Oh, I know Sherlock, I might not be the world's only consulting detective but I've seen the way you eye me." John teased, arousing Sherlock immensely.
Sherlock stood, dragging John up with him. He kissed John again before pulling him along to his bedroom. He was sick of playing the waiting game.
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Sorry for the wait. I've been busy doing some uni planning and other drawings.
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