A little post for Swe because she's worth it.
Okay, so, I made the following gifts for sevenswells's birthday. I dunno how many times I must have said it but, once again, HAPPY (belated) BIRTHDAY darling ! :D :D
Lightly, lightly, the rain falls down. Big, thick black clouds pass by in the lonely sky ; it seems like they try to catch a little something on Earth, a tiny inch of beauty, a little sparkle of eternity.
John sighs quietly and turns the page of his old, worn-out book. He cannot tell how much he loves this kind of Sunday afternoons, how delicious they sound to his ears. Sherlock lays sprawled across him, the doctor himself laying all over the sofa. It's a cold, cold and quite lonely day, tea helps, but the warmth the two men share is enough, way enough to make the melancholia go away.
“I'm bored” is the detective's catch-phrase : every single hour goes on with it, and, if it doesn't, it means something is wrong (or, that, maybe, Sherlock is busy doing something else ... with John.)
This statement is almost always followed by a sigh (John is used to raising his eyebrows, even though he's not that surprised, in the end) and some cuddles (Sherlock can't help it, he loves nuzzling into John's neck) in order to prevent the tall dark-haired man from thinking too much, in case it burns his brain cells. John doubts it will ever happen (actually, he believes Sherlock wouldn't mind at all ; on the contrary, he would be happy to consider it as “an experiment”).
“You're always bored, Sherlock”, John mutters, intertwining his fingers and the messy deep black curls of the other man's hair altogether. “I'm growing a bit tired of it, to be honest. Would you mind changing it ?”
“What about “I plan on killing my older brother any time soon, he's my arch-enemy and will always be” ?”
The fair-haired man rolls his eyes. At least, he guesses, it's catchy.
And a little graphic to finish this post ! The lyrics are from "Got to get you into my life" by The Beatles~.
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Lightly, lightly, the rain falls down. Big, thick black clouds pass by in the lonely sky ; it seems like they try to catch a little something on Earth, a tiny inch of beauty, a little sparkle of eternity.
John sighs quietly and turns the page of his old, worn-out book. He cannot tell how much he loves this kind of Sunday afternoons, how delicious they sound to his ears. Sherlock lays sprawled across him, the doctor himself laying all over the sofa. It's a cold, cold and quite lonely day, tea helps, but the warmth the two men share is enough, way enough to make the melancholia go away.
“I'm bored” is the detective's catch-phrase : every single hour goes on with it, and, if it doesn't, it means something is wrong (or, that, maybe, Sherlock is busy doing something else ... with John.)
This statement is almost always followed by a sigh (John is used to raising his eyebrows, even though he's not that surprised, in the end) and some cuddles (Sherlock can't help it, he loves nuzzling into John's neck) in order to prevent the tall dark-haired man from thinking too much, in case it burns his brain cells. John doubts it will ever happen (actually, he believes Sherlock wouldn't mind at all ; on the contrary, he would be happy to consider it as “an experiment”).
“You're always bored, Sherlock”, John mutters, intertwining his fingers and the messy deep black curls of the other man's hair altogether. “I'm growing a bit tired of it, to be honest. Would you mind changing it ?”
“What about “I plan on killing my older brother any time soon, he's my arch-enemy and will always be” ?”
The fair-haired man rolls his eyes. At least, he guesses, it's catchy.
And a little graphic to finish this post ! The lyrics are from "Got to get you into my life" by The Beatles~.
\0/