During/After Dinner Cuddle!Fic John/Sherlock
anonymous
June 29 2011, 05:16:38 UTC
Fluff is good. :) Maybe John is once again trying to get Sherlock to eat something. Maybe Sherlock just thinks that Full/Sleepy!John is cute. Maybe both. Feeding each other 'one more bite'. Tummy rubs. Snuggling. Woolly Jumpers.
Fill: His John Pt. Ilivia_caricaSeptember 20 2011, 03:42:59 UTC
This turned out a bit more... thinky than I originally planned.... Sorry about that.
There is a photo on the bookcase in what was John’s but is now their bedroom. It is a shiny metallic frame containing an incongruously battered photograph of a lean, tanned John with his arm thrown around the shoulders of two equally whipcord solider cohorts. Dressed in camouflage trousers and a desert hued vest, he is squinting into the Afghan sun, his bright smile even whiter against his tanned skin. His friends are grinning too. It is for all intents and purposes a happy photograph of a bunch of Army mates posing in a quiet time. John loves that photo because it is a good memory that floats on a sea of bad memories like a message in a bottle
( ... )
Fill: His John Pt. 2livia_caricaSeptember 20 2011, 03:43:33 UTC
After they’ve finished, John groans, burps, undoes his top button on his jeans. Sherlock watches, finishes his solitary beer and feels warm and indulgent. The tug has become a glow so powerful that he feels it’s going to crack his ribcage one day. He stands and offers John his hand, ready for his favourite part of the day. John groans again, heaves himself out of his chair and makes his way to the couch. Sherlock grabs him another beer from the fridge and after handing it over, he curls up under John’s waiting arm and lets the cacophony from the TV wash over him
( ... )
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There is a photo on the bookcase in what was John’s but is now their bedroom. It is a shiny metallic frame containing an incongruously battered photograph of a lean, tanned John with his arm thrown around the shoulders of two equally whipcord solider cohorts. Dressed in camouflage trousers and a desert hued vest, he is squinting into the Afghan sun, his bright smile even whiter against his tanned skin. His friends are grinning too. It is for all intents and purposes a happy photograph of a bunch of Army mates posing in a quiet time. John loves that photo because it is a good memory that floats on a sea of bad memories like a message in a bottle ( ... )
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