bluesrat replied to your post: bluesrat replied to your post: There is a giant…
I wish I were there so I could kill it for you. I’m very good at killing fucking wasps (that’s their scientific name). I’ve had a lot of practice. Fucking wasps.
Aww, thank you! I appreciate the thought!
I’m told that porn can help to combat late-night wasps, so have a bit of the Serviceman sequel.
Two long-legged strides and he’s into John’s personal space, drawing deep breaths in through his nostrils and out through parted lips. “You smell…” He buries his face in John’s wet hair and noses downward, over John’s temple and cheekbone to nuzzle under his ear.
Sherlock’s hair tickles John’s face. The scent goes through him like an electric shock. “You have on too many clo-ohhh.” Sherlock’s tongue rasps up the side of his neck, collecting drips of water.
John wraps a hand around the back of his neck and presses against him, suddenly fully prepared to do this right here.
So naturally Sherlock pulls back, pushing John away by his damp shoulders. “Bedroom.”
John grabs the lapels of Sherlock’s jacket as he obeys, starting in on Sherlock’s buttons while he backs down the hallway. So he sees the way tension drops from Sherlock’s shoulders when they pass the threshold into his room, the way something sharpens in Sherlock’s eyes when he hooks the door with one foot to kick it shut behind him.
John loves that look in an alpha’s eyes. It always puts a little frisson of danger down his spine. But if Sherlock thought John was going to melt backwards into the bed like a fainting heroine, he’s sadly mistaken. When Sherlock reaches to smooth a proprietary hand over John’s bare shoulder, John slides under it to close in on him instead. “Too many clothes, I told you.” He’s pushing off Sherlock’s suit jacket before Sherlock manages to muster a response.
He shoves Sherlock’s arms back and down to get the jacket off his shoulders, and then twists his fist into the fabric, pinning Sherlock’s arms in place so he can’t interfere while John stretches up on tiptoe to grab a kiss. He’s wanted to kiss those lush lips for absolute ages, and he’s not about to let Sherlock get in his way now.
Not that Sherlock seems inclined to. He follows eagerly when John catches his lower lip lightly in his teeth to tug the taller man’s head down into reach.
Sorry if it’s not very pretty. I’m still working on it.