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Two Simple Sentences	By : IDontKnowWhatImDoing Category: S through Z > Sherlock (BBC) > Sherlock (BBC) Views: 3980 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock or any associated characters, and do not profit from this work.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
John didn't need an alarm clock to tell him it was time to get up for breakfast. Not when he had a Sherlock clock near the side of the bed not very quietly whining, "John, wake up."
Without opening his eyes he could tell it was too damn early in the morning, his internal clock was one clue but it was more the amount of whine in his whiny partner's voice told him Sherlock had probably woken up at the crack of dawn, found the note he'd left and had been fidgeting all over the flat for far too long waiting for John to wake up. It was actually a wonder Sherlock hadn't dragged him out of bed by his feet as soon as he read the note.
So the Sherlock clock…unlike his normal clock, this one didn't include a snooze button, there was no option for a few more minutes of quiet, he only got a few seconds. A few seconds of quiet that ended with a whiny sigh followed by, "John, I'm hungry. Wake up."
He couldn't decide which of the two he preferred; the Sherlock clock, even at its whiny best had a much more pleasant sound than the shrill beep of the mechanical one. However, not once since buying the little clock on his night table, had it ever attempted to not let him sleep-in by poking him in the face, which is exactly what his human clock was now doing.
The digital alarm was close to winning as that poking finger continued to poke away at his cheek and Sherlock nagged a little more, "Wake up."
John swatted at the persistent finger, "Stop it, I'm awake."
The finger stopped jabbing his cheek. "Then get up."
"Gimme a minute."
"Fine one minute."
One minute to an impatient Sherlock must feel like an eternity, it didn't take long for that finger to return and start tickling at his nose. In an attempted to hide from the cute but annoying finger and not start laughing, John pulled the blankets up over his head. "I said…gimme a minute. As in a whole minute."
That whiny voice was able to penetrate his bunker of blankets easily. "But John, I already waited an hour. I'm going to starve to death."
John didn't say anything, hiding under the duvet, just awaiting for the inevitable, and it didn't take very long for the inevitable to happen. Patiently waiting…until he felt that damn finger very slowly pressing against his face through the blanket, pressing harder and harder, until John finally started laughing. "You're such a dork."
"Just get up already."
"Okay, okay, you silly git."
Sherlock pulled the blanket off and when John finally opened his eyes he knew immediately which clock he preferred. The alarm clock might never poke at him relentlessly but it would also never look as good as Sherlock. Kneeling on the floor at the side of the bed, hair all mussed up, grinning like the silly git he was. There was no chilly flat to wake up to today; being nice and warm, Sherlock was wearing a silky robe over nothing but silky pants. The poor alarm clock never really stood a chance.
He propped up on an elbow, admiring his lovely partner. Sherlock leaned over, tipping forward on his knees and gave him a light kiss on the forehead. John reached to draw him down for more of those feathery kisses on some better places than his forehead but Sherlock pulled back, his silly grin slowly transforming.
It transformed into a little bit of fire, "John, I'm hungry."
"Couldn't wait for me to wake up huh?"
"After the many hours it took me to decipher the hidden message in your secret code of a note?" Sherlock licked his lips, "Be glad I let you sleep an extra hour since I found it."
"Fair point." And it was, it was impressive as well. Horny at the drop of a hat Sherlock rarely was able to contain himself when John dangled a carrot in front of him, or in this case raspberry jam.
That little bit fire was spreading from his smile to his eyes. "Now, time for breakfast."
Jokingly John teased, "Can I at least get up, take a shower, brush my teeth, make some coff..." Sherlock cut him off by plopping the jar of raspberry jam onto the bed in front of him.
"Nope. No more waiting. Jam, breakfast, now!" Oh yes his note had gotten Sherlock quite worked up.
Still on his knees next to the bed, John sat up to sit in front of him. He wouldn't make his somewhat, mostly not entirely patient Sherlock wait any longer, even with his incessant whining, poking and insistence, he was behaving rather calm all things considered. And knowing Sherlock, seeing the jam on the table, that 'not really a bet' bet tease, he had already considered all things and determined just how he would be enjoying his breakfast this morning.
Taking the jar from Sherlock, he started unscrewing the lid. As for Sherlock, he started to get up to join him in bed, but the sight of him kneeling looked too damn good. "Wait. Stay put."
Sherlock gave him a questioning look but stopped.
"Stay just like that."
"Oh..." Catching on quick, Sherlock sat back on his legs, those fiery eyes blazed at this. He looked so, hell so wantonly submissive kneeling in front of him.
Sherlock licked his lips when John unscrewed the lid and placed it on the night table. Jar between his thighs, he dipped a finger in, getting a bit of jam.
Sherlock keened in anticipation sending a thrill straight to John's groin. Damn he looked too good for words, eagerly waiting John to serve him breakfast in a most interesting way. Robe open, showing off a finely sculpted pale chest, his dark hair disheveled and uncombed, making quiet whimpers of excitement.
Holding out his now jam covered finger, Sherlock leaned forward, licking raspberries slowly off his finger, making a delightful 'mmm' at the taste. Sherlock licked again, trying to lap up any bits of jam he might have missed. John swallowed hard, his mouth watering at the sight of Sherlock on his knees licking at him. It sent more than a thrill to his groin as he grew hard.
Sherlock leaned closer, licking as his lips, wanting more.
John breathed out slow, "Oh god."
Taking a moment to just stare, he must have stared for more than just a moment. His greedy lover couldn't wait, taking John's hand, he dipped one of his fingers into the jar himself. Hungry eyes still fixed on his own, Sherlock guided the raspberry covered finger to his open, waiting mouth. Taking the whole finger in at once, his tongue swirled around licking off all the jam. When he started sucking hard on his finger, John's erection twitched.
"God Sherlock."
Sherlock hummed in response, and released his finger with a slight pop. A little too rushed to get his finger back in that warm wet mouth; John scooped up a bit too much and a little dropped onto the duvet.
And god damn, John's cock did more than twitch. Sherlock bent forward and he did, oh god damned yes he did, he licked the bits of fruit off the duvet, then grabbed John's hand bringing that berry covered digit back into his mouth, sucking off every morsel. Moaning, and licking and swirling his tongue over every inch.
"Bloody hell." John ran his tongue over his lips. The sucking on his finger, the lovely mostly bare Sherlock kneeling and keening in front of him, and definitely the smell of raspberries; breakfast was either not going to last long or raspberry preserves were going to be everywhere very fast.
Watching Sherlock while he nibbled on his finger, Sherlock's eyes brightened. Even in his inflamed state of mind, John knew that look, the look of a brilliant Sherlock getting one of those brilliant Sherlock ideas. Still gripping John's hand, he pulled his finger out again, not letting go, not letting John go for more.
Instead Sherlock dabbed his own finger in and reached over, lightly spread a tiny bit of jam over John's lips.
Tilting forward, coming close, John thought it would be a shared kiss, tasting the sweet fruit on each other's lips, oh how wrong he was. Just that delightful tongue licking slowly across his lip. John groaned as Sherlock traced his lips again and again and again with his tongue…until the jar between his legs started tipping over.
Sherlock quickly leaned back, catching the jar and preventing a big mess, a big wasteful mess. This was escalating much faster than how John had envisioned last night. That previous thought of sticky jelly everywhere was not far off.
"Sherlock, maybe we should…um…have breakfast in the kitchen?"
Right along with his thinking, Sherlock answered, "Mmm, we probably should."
He stood and took the jar from Sherlock and was just about to give him a hand to help him up but stopped cold. Looking down at the very submissive appearance of his partner, John lost his breath. The image of him leaning precariously over the bed lapping at the duvet filled his mind and it was John's turn to have a brilliant idea.
Before Sherlock could stand, he said, "Don't get up."
Sherlock gave him another of those questioning looks, "Hmm?"
John answered him with silence, a wide grin and scooped a little bit of jam onto his finger, holding it out in front of him. Sherlock leaned forward, tongue flicking out ready for more but John stepped back, moving his finger out of reach from his kneeling, submissive lover.
The fire in his eyes was hot enough to set the room ablaze, as he stared at John's retreating hand. Inching forward on his knees, he got closer and licked up his meal greedily, staring up at him while he sucked and sucked on his finger.
"Fucking hell, Sherlock you look so good like that."
When his wet finger was removed, Sherlock spoke and John's leg went weak at his simple word. "More."
"Oh god Sherlock."
With an unsteady hand he got another dab of jam but Sherlock didn't move. Just waiting, prostrate in from of him, submissive yet so in control. He didn't move, waiting for John to step further out of his reach.
And holy hell, god damn and everything else, John was pretty sure if he touched his cock right then he would have come. Because when he stepped back, Sherlock placed his hands on the ground and he bloody well crawled, crawling on hands and knees, his robe dragging on the ground at his sides, tongue bitten between teeth while moving forward to take in John's berry flavored finger.
"Oh my fucking god."
Crawling to him, right up to his feet, Sherlock sat back on his knees but this time didn't take his finger in. Grinning seductively, he took John's hand in his own and brought it to his lips and licked, and licked and just licked it clean.
Sherlock's robe had fallen off one shoulder, so much pale skin on display, pale and perfect expect for ruffled dark hair. John could barely think, blinking down at those smoldering gray-blue eyes staring up at him under thick lashed as his tongue lapped up all traces of raspberries from his finger.
"God…Sherlock, you are so fucking sexy."
Still licking, he just 'mmm'ed in response. And honestly it's a wonder John didn't pass out from his rapid, heavy breathing when Sherlock finished working that tongue over him, then ran it across his lips, staring up him with demanding eyes, demanding more.
Completely under his mesmerizing lover's control since his mind skipped out at the first sight of Sherlock crawling, John obeyed. Another bit of jam, another step back.
A perversely exciting feeling washed through him. Being dominated by Sherlock's want, by just demanding eyes, while at the same time the beautifully submissive creature walked forward on hands and knees, to prostrate himself at John's feet, hungrily devouring his breakfast. John's erection throbbed at the strange, interesting dynamic going between them. This was new, this was new and very exciting.
And again, a finger sucked cleaned, and again no words, just those fierce eyes speaking, commanding him, 'more, give me more now'.
They moved back, step by step, backward toward to the kitchen. John spellbound watching step by step as Sherlock moved forward all on fours, groveling for each taste. Each step a finger, a bit of jam, a tongue licking or a mouth sucking. Each step back demanded of him by imploring eyes.
This was not in any way what he'd had in mind for an interesting breakfast when leaving that silly 'not really a bet' bet on a note next to a jar of raspberry jam last night.
And they hadn't even made it into the kitchen, and there was still half a jar of raspberry jam left.
This was so much more than interesting.

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this. Next chapter will more jam, more crawling and a messy kitchen.
- 9
- 10
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Two Simple Sentences