060 - Drink
060.) Drink
Author: Jordan aka insane-pyro-fic
Fandom: Sherlock BBC
Pairing: Sherlock / John
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,034
Disclaimer: Only borrowing the characters, not for profit, etc.
Summary: After a long week at the clinic John just wants to unwind with a cheap bottle of wine and some crap telly. But nothing ever goes as planned at 221B.
After a long day at the clinic, John stopped on the way home to pick up a bottle of wine. It was a Friday evening and he planned on picking up some spaghetti and meatballs from Angelo’s, grabbing a bottle of cheap Muscat, and relaxing in his pyjamas in his favorite chair, watching whatever was on the Beeb that night.
It sounded like the perfect way to unwind. He knew it wouldn’t plan out that way. Living with Sherlock Holmes meant that nothing ever went as planned.
When he arrived at the flat, Sherlock was sitting in John’s favorite chair, on his laptop - this week’s password obviously too easy to guess.
“Oh good, you brought me dinner,” said Sherlock, not even looking up from the screen.
“No, I brought myself dinner. If you want some, you can run down to Angelo’s yourself and get some,” replied John.
Sherlock’s eyebrow quirked, “You know Angelo’s portions - you can never eat an entire order of spaghetti and meatballs by yourself. You manage about half when you don’t fill up on bread beforehand. And I know Angelo packed you up a box just full of their fresh garlic bread - even he knows it’s your favorite.”
John sighed, “Fine, fine, I’ll share. I knew I should have picked up two bottles of wine.”
“No need, I’ll pick my way into Mrs. Hudson’s liquor cabinet. She always has wine on hand for when she and Mrs. Turner get together. I’m sure she has a few bottles of white zin in there.”
John fetched two plates from the kitchen, hoping that they weren’t coated with some sort of chemical compound that Sherlock had left laying around. He split up the spaghetti equally, despite not wanting to share, but gave himself more of the garlic bread which he loved. He found a couple of forks, but when he tried to find a bottle opener for the wine, he came up empty handed.
“Sherlock, do we have a corkscrew?” He called, but received no answer.
“Just bloody brilliant. He forces me to share my food and then disappears, and now I can’t even enjoy my wine,” John muttered to himself.
Sherlock entered the kitchen a moment later, two bottles of wine and a fancy corkscrew in his hand. “Stole it from Mrs. Hudson’s stash,” he smirked.
“She’s going to murder us.”
“She’ll never find out. She just had a few of her ‘evening herbal soothers,’ she’ll be sleeping until morning.”
John couldn’t help but smile when Sherlock opened the bottle of Muscat.
John had never seen Sherlock drink before. He wondered how he would act with a few glasses of wine in him. As everyone knew, different types of alcohol made people act differently. Whiskey made John angry. Wine made John giggly and even a bit horny. Rum made John stumble around like an idiot. And no matter what alcohol it was, John became brutally honest which ended in embarrassment most of the time.
Sherlock pulled two glasses out of a cupboard and peered into them before he poured two full glasses of wine.
He handed John a glass, “To health, wealth, and happiness,” he said as they clinked glasses.
John couldn’t help but take a big sip, enjoying the taste as it slid down his throat.
“Not bad,” said Sherlock, taking another sip.
They moved into the sitting room to eat, flopping down on opposite ends of the sofa.
After their meal, they were pouring themselves third glasses of wine. John, who hadn’t drank in a very long time, could already start to feel a slight buzz. He had that warm feeling in the bottom of his belly; his mind clear, happiness flowing through his veins.
He had no idea how if was effecting Sherlock - he said nothing. John sat there, sipping his wine every now and then.
John was about to turn on the telly when he found he couldn’t find the remote. It wasn’t on the coffee table where it usually was, so John got up to find it. He ended up stubbing his toe on the table, which made him howl in pain, and made Sherlock begin to giggle.
“Not funny!” Exclaimed John, shooting him an angry look.
That only made him laugh more.
“Oh, fuck it, we just won’t watch telly,” said John, sitting back down on the sofa, next to Sherlock this time.
But Sherlock kept laughing.
“What’s so funny?”
“Oh, nothing,” replied Sherlock, taking another sip of wine.
“Uh huh, sure. I know you were laughing at me,” said John with a smirk.
“Not at all,” Sherlock said, but then burst into another fit of giggles.
“You’re going to pay for that, Sherlock Holmes!” John said, taking Sherlock’s wine glass and setting it on the coffee table before he pounced on top of Sherlock.
He began to poke him all over: in his belly, on his arms, on his thighs, which all turned into tickling.
“Oh, please, no!” Sherlock gasped between laughs.
“You’re not getting off that easy!”
John continued his assault as Sherlock caught on and began to tickle John.
“Oh no you don’t!” Exclaimed John, grabbing Sherlock’s wrists and pinning them above his head.
John saw something spark in Sherlock’s eyes and before he knew it, he was leaning down, their faces closer than they had ever been before.
The honesty within John began to bubble up and soon he said, very quietly, “I wonder what it would be like to kiss you.”
“Then why don’t you kiss me and find out?”
Very slowly, John leaned down, their lips barely brushing as he released Sherlock’s wrists. Sherlock’s arms came to wrap around John, his hand resting on the back of John’s head, pushing him even closer to him.
Their lips met and John felt like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders - like everything had been leading up to this moment. He couldn’t help the moan that escaped from his lips.
Sherlock smiled into the kiss before they both pulled away.
“Good?” Asked Sherlock.
“A bit good, yeah,” John replied with a smile.
“You need to bring wine home more often,” said Sherlock with a laugh before he kissed John once again.
Author: Jordan aka insane-pyro-fic
Fandom: Sherlock BBC
Pairing: Sherlock / John
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,034
Disclaimer: Only borrowing the characters, not for profit, etc.
Summary: After a long week at the clinic John just wants to unwind with a cheap bottle of wine and some crap telly. But nothing ever goes as planned at 221B.
After a long day at the clinic, John stopped on the way home to pick up a bottle of wine. It was a Friday evening and he planned on picking up some spaghetti and meatballs from Angelo’s, grabbing a bottle of cheap Muscat, and relaxing in his pyjamas in his favorite chair, watching whatever was on the Beeb that night.
It sounded like the perfect way to unwind. He knew it wouldn’t plan out that way. Living with Sherlock Holmes meant that nothing ever went as planned.
When he arrived at the flat, Sherlock was sitting in John’s favorite chair, on his laptop - this week’s password obviously too easy to guess.
“Oh good, you brought me dinner,” said Sherlock, not even looking up from the screen.
“No, I brought myself dinner. If you want some, you can run down to Angelo’s yourself and get some,” replied John.
Sherlock’s eyebrow quirked, “You know Angelo’s portions - you can never eat an entire order of spaghetti and meatballs by yourself. You manage about half when you don’t fill up on bread beforehand. And I know Angelo packed you up a box just full of their fresh garlic bread - even he knows it’s your favorite.”
John sighed, “Fine, fine, I’ll share. I knew I should have picked up two bottles of wine.”
“No need, I’ll pick my way into Mrs. Hudson’s liquor cabinet. She always has wine on hand for when she and Mrs. Turner get together. I’m sure she has a few bottles of white zin in there.”
John fetched two plates from the kitchen, hoping that they weren’t coated with some sort of chemical compound that Sherlock had left laying around. He split up the spaghetti equally, despite not wanting to share, but gave himself more of the garlic bread which he loved. He found a couple of forks, but when he tried to find a bottle opener for the wine, he came up empty handed.
“Sherlock, do we have a corkscrew?” He called, but received no answer.
“Just bloody brilliant. He forces me to share my food and then disappears, and now I can’t even enjoy my wine,” John muttered to himself.
Sherlock entered the kitchen a moment later, two bottles of wine and a fancy corkscrew in his hand. “Stole it from Mrs. Hudson’s stash,” he smirked.
“She’s going to murder us.”
“She’ll never find out. She just had a few of her ‘evening herbal soothers,’ she’ll be sleeping until morning.”
John couldn’t help but smile when Sherlock opened the bottle of Muscat.
John had never seen Sherlock drink before. He wondered how he would act with a few glasses of wine in him. As everyone knew, different types of alcohol made people act differently. Whiskey made John angry. Wine made John giggly and even a bit horny. Rum made John stumble around like an idiot. And no matter what alcohol it was, John became brutally honest which ended in embarrassment most of the time.
Sherlock pulled two glasses out of a cupboard and peered into them before he poured two full glasses of wine.
He handed John a glass, “To health, wealth, and happiness,” he said as they clinked glasses.
John couldn’t help but take a big sip, enjoying the taste as it slid down his throat.
“Not bad,” said Sherlock, taking another sip.
They moved into the sitting room to eat, flopping down on opposite ends of the sofa.
After their meal, they were pouring themselves third glasses of wine. John, who hadn’t drank in a very long time, could already start to feel a slight buzz. He had that warm feeling in the bottom of his belly; his mind clear, happiness flowing through his veins.
He had no idea how if was effecting Sherlock - he said nothing. John sat there, sipping his wine every now and then.
John was about to turn on the telly when he found he couldn’t find the remote. It wasn’t on the coffee table where it usually was, so John got up to find it. He ended up stubbing his toe on the table, which made him howl in pain, and made Sherlock begin to giggle.
“Not funny!” Exclaimed John, shooting him an angry look.
That only made him laugh more.
“Oh, fuck it, we just won’t watch telly,” said John, sitting back down on the sofa, next to Sherlock this time.
But Sherlock kept laughing.
“What’s so funny?”
“Oh, nothing,” replied Sherlock, taking another sip of wine.
“Uh huh, sure. I know you were laughing at me,” said John with a smirk.
“Not at all,” Sherlock said, but then burst into another fit of giggles.
“You’re going to pay for that, Sherlock Holmes!” John said, taking Sherlock’s wine glass and setting it on the coffee table before he pounced on top of Sherlock.
He began to poke him all over: in his belly, on his arms, on his thighs, which all turned into tickling.
“Oh, please, no!” Sherlock gasped between laughs.
“You’re not getting off that easy!”
John continued his assault as Sherlock caught on and began to tickle John.
“Oh no you don’t!” Exclaimed John, grabbing Sherlock’s wrists and pinning them above his head.
John saw something spark in Sherlock’s eyes and before he knew it, he was leaning down, their faces closer than they had ever been before.
The honesty within John began to bubble up and soon he said, very quietly, “I wonder what it would be like to kiss you.”
“Then why don’t you kiss me and find out?”
Very slowly, John leaned down, their lips barely brushing as he released Sherlock’s wrists. Sherlock’s arms came to wrap around John, his hand resting on the back of John’s head, pushing him even closer to him.
Their lips met and John felt like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders - like everything had been leading up to this moment. He couldn’t help the moan that escaped from his lips.
Sherlock smiled into the kiss before they both pulled away.
“Good?” Asked Sherlock.
“A bit good, yeah,” John replied with a smile.
“You need to bring wine home more often,” said Sherlock with a laugh before he kissed John once again.