[FIC] Toast
Title: Toast
Author: sophie_carter01
Word Count: 702
Fandom: BBC Sherlock
Pairing: John/Sherlock (established)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Bit of kissing, references to sex, in a way.
Notes: I was talking to my friend Julia and Sherlock and toast and then this happened. Enjoy!
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John shuffled out from under the tangle of long limbs what was Sherlock Holmes, trying not to wake him. It was very rare that the consulting detective slept in. John smirked to himself as he sat up and swung his legs around the side of the bed.
“Don’t think it was you that tired me out last night, John,” Sherlock mumbled sleepily. John started, he could have sworn Sherlock was asleep, but then again, he was always full of surprises, he sighed, standing up.
“Toast is it then?” John asked, stretching his arms up over his head.
“Mmmmm,” Sherlock hummed, “Yes, toast. Warm toast, with lots of butter,” his voice was croaky and still laced with sleep.
“Please?” John asked, “Don’t I get a please?”
“No,” Sherlock mumbled quietly as he rolled over.
John didn’t say anything, he just pulled on a jumper and trudged downstairs sleepily, stumbling down the stairs. He wandered into the kitchen and immediately put the kettle on. He moved around the kitchen slowly gathering everything he needed for breakfast; bread, butter, jam, tea bags, milk, a simple English-style breakfast.
He hovered by the toaster waiting for the bread to turn golden and crunchy. He jumped back slightly when it popped back up, he was still half asleep.
He began buttering the toast lazily, distributing the creamy spread unevenly across the toast. He then lathered jam on half of the pieces and cut them up into triangles; he had made toast the same way all his life.
He walked back upstairs, carrying a plate with the toast stacked high and Sherlock’s tea in one had and sipping his own tea with the other. He totted up the stairs, being careful not to spill or drop anything. He made it back to the bedroom and placed everything down on the bedside table and snuggled back under the duvet. Sherlock roused and breathed in deeply, the delicious smell of breakfast filling his nostrils.
He sat up and snuggled closer to John, reaching across him for the plate. He picked up one of the buttered triangles and observed it intently.
“Something wrong?” John asked and he picked up one of the pieces with jam and munched on it.
“You’re not very good at making toast, John,” Sherlock said bluntly, “Look here, the butter hasn’t even been spread all the way to the edges!”
“Well, if that’s how you feel then you can make it yourself,” John muttered, feeling slightly annoyed.
“I would, but I can’t be bothered,” Sherlock said lazily as he bit into his slice.
They kept eating in silence, John feeling himself waking up with each sip of tea. Once they had finished John moved the plates and mugs to the side, he turned back to Sherlock and laughed slightly when he saw that Sherlock has gotten a bit of jam on his face.
“What?” Sherlock asked, looking down at John suspiciously, “What are you laughing at, John?”
“Hmmm?” John asked, moving closer, “Nothing, nothing at all,” he said breathing out softly.
Sherlock felt John’s breath against his face which was warmer than usual after finishing his tea, he shivered slightly despite being quite cosy under the covers.
John moved in closer and closer and then touched his tongue to Sherlock’s face, licking away the jam softly.
Sherlock chuckled as he said, “John, what, what are you doing?”
“You had jam on your face,” John said his lips now trailing Sherlock’s exquisite jaw line.
“Oh,” Sherlock said breathlessly, feeling the warmth pool at the bottom of his spine, “I see.”
They began kissing softly, feeling warm and cosy as the early morning light peaked through the windows.
“John,” Sherlock gasped breathlessly after a few minutes, “John, I-“
But John had cut him off when he started kissing him harder, he loved the fact that he could have Sherlock panting after only a few minutes of kissing.
“More,” Sherlock managed to gasp in between breaths.
“Say please,” John mumbled harshly as he pinned himself on top of Sherlock, kissing his neck.
“Never,” Sherlock growled as he craned his neck backwards allowing John further access.
“You’re going to pay for that, Holmes,” John hissed, and with that, he took his revenge.
Author: sophie_carter01
Word Count: 702
Fandom: BBC Sherlock
Pairing: John/Sherlock (established)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Bit of kissing, references to sex, in a way.
Notes: I was talking to my friend Julia and Sherlock and toast and then this happened. Enjoy!
--------------------------------------------------------------------
John shuffled out from under the tangle of long limbs what was Sherlock Holmes, trying not to wake him. It was very rare that the consulting detective slept in. John smirked to himself as he sat up and swung his legs around the side of the bed.
“Don’t think it was you that tired me out last night, John,” Sherlock mumbled sleepily. John started, he could have sworn Sherlock was asleep, but then again, he was always full of surprises, he sighed, standing up.
“Toast is it then?” John asked, stretching his arms up over his head.
“Mmmmm,” Sherlock hummed, “Yes, toast. Warm toast, with lots of butter,” his voice was croaky and still laced with sleep.
“Please?” John asked, “Don’t I get a please?”
“No,” Sherlock mumbled quietly as he rolled over.
John didn’t say anything, he just pulled on a jumper and trudged downstairs sleepily, stumbling down the stairs. He wandered into the kitchen and immediately put the kettle on. He moved around the kitchen slowly gathering everything he needed for breakfast; bread, butter, jam, tea bags, milk, a simple English-style breakfast.
He hovered by the toaster waiting for the bread to turn golden and crunchy. He jumped back slightly when it popped back up, he was still half asleep.
He began buttering the toast lazily, distributing the creamy spread unevenly across the toast. He then lathered jam on half of the pieces and cut them up into triangles; he had made toast the same way all his life.
He walked back upstairs, carrying a plate with the toast stacked high and Sherlock’s tea in one had and sipping his own tea with the other. He totted up the stairs, being careful not to spill or drop anything. He made it back to the bedroom and placed everything down on the bedside table and snuggled back under the duvet. Sherlock roused and breathed in deeply, the delicious smell of breakfast filling his nostrils.
He sat up and snuggled closer to John, reaching across him for the plate. He picked up one of the buttered triangles and observed it intently.
“Something wrong?” John asked and he picked up one of the pieces with jam and munched on it.
“You’re not very good at making toast, John,” Sherlock said bluntly, “Look here, the butter hasn’t even been spread all the way to the edges!”
“Well, if that’s how you feel then you can make it yourself,” John muttered, feeling slightly annoyed.
“I would, but I can’t be bothered,” Sherlock said lazily as he bit into his slice.
They kept eating in silence, John feeling himself waking up with each sip of tea. Once they had finished John moved the plates and mugs to the side, he turned back to Sherlock and laughed slightly when he saw that Sherlock has gotten a bit of jam on his face.
“What?” Sherlock asked, looking down at John suspiciously, “What are you laughing at, John?”
“Hmmm?” John asked, moving closer, “Nothing, nothing at all,” he said breathing out softly.
Sherlock felt John’s breath against his face which was warmer than usual after finishing his tea, he shivered slightly despite being quite cosy under the covers.
John moved in closer and closer and then touched his tongue to Sherlock’s face, licking away the jam softly.
Sherlock chuckled as he said, “John, what, what are you doing?”
“You had jam on your face,” John said his lips now trailing Sherlock’s exquisite jaw line.
“Oh,” Sherlock said breathlessly, feeling the warmth pool at the bottom of his spine, “I see.”
They began kissing softly, feeling warm and cosy as the early morning light peaked through the windows.
“John,” Sherlock gasped breathlessly after a few minutes, “John, I-“
But John had cut him off when he started kissing him harder, he loved the fact that he could have Sherlock panting after only a few minutes of kissing.
“More,” Sherlock managed to gasp in between breaths.
“Say please,” John mumbled harshly as he pinned himself on top of Sherlock, kissing his neck.
“Never,” Sherlock growled as he craned his neck backwards allowing John further access.
“You’re going to pay for that, Holmes,” John hissed, and with that, he took his revenge.