A short spoiler
To make up for my pitiful lack of productivity.
He thought he must surely be going mad.
And for once, it wasn't Sherlock's fault, not really.
All it had taken was an instant, and a badly timed glance, it was almost shameful.
He'd been too quick to enter after knocking, too changed by the other's influence to not see and observe every inch of the man's half-bare back, eyes drawn down along the clear lines of lowermost ribs to narrow waist to the faintest flairing of hips-
And he had been doomed.
Completely and irreversably derailed by the barest hint of indentations sat level with the brunette's trouser edge, the light skimming over and around them to cast emphasizing shadows that all but pinned his gaze to the spot..
And now, he thought of little else.
Every lean, every stretch that sent the man's shirt creeping upward to reveal the source of his secret vice-
Sometimes he wondered how those tiny dips of flesh would taste, if he dared, or if they would fit the pads of his thumbs as closely as he imagined they would-
Oh, yes. He was fair certain that this was madness.
XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX
He wondered if the man knew.
How foolish it was to think otherwise, when the brunette took note of everything, but if he knew..
The increasing amount of random magazines and assorted small items upon the floor took on a whole new significance, when the detective could never be bothered to fully rise when retrieving them.
No, he would merely hum quietly, then proceed to drape himself just so over the arm of the couch, or sometimes resort to a full-length sprawl over the coffeetable, both of which were increasingly torturous to the man who had learned how to observe.
He thought he must surely be going mad.
And for once, it wasn't Sherlock's fault, not really.
All it had taken was an instant, and a badly timed glance, it was almost shameful.
He'd been too quick to enter after knocking, too changed by the other's influence to not see and observe every inch of the man's half-bare back, eyes drawn down along the clear lines of lowermost ribs to narrow waist to the faintest flairing of hips-
And he had been doomed.
Completely and irreversably derailed by the barest hint of indentations sat level with the brunette's trouser edge, the light skimming over and around them to cast emphasizing shadows that all but pinned his gaze to the spot..
And now, he thought of little else.
Every lean, every stretch that sent the man's shirt creeping upward to reveal the source of his secret vice-
Sometimes he wondered how those tiny dips of flesh would taste, if he dared, or if they would fit the pads of his thumbs as closely as he imagined they would-
Oh, yes. He was fair certain that this was madness.
XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX
He wondered if the man knew.
How foolish it was to think otherwise, when the brunette took note of everything, but if he knew..
The increasing amount of random magazines and assorted small items upon the floor took on a whole new significance, when the detective could never be bothered to fully rise when retrieving them.
No, he would merely hum quietly, then proceed to drape himself just so over the arm of the couch, or sometimes resort to a full-length sprawl over the coffeetable, both of which were increasingly torturous to the man who had learned how to observe.