Author: Ariane DeVere
Rating: PG maybe, for some snogging
Characters: John, Sherlock
Warnings: Pure crack, as usual
Disclaimer: Sherlock belongs to way more powerful and wealthy people than me.
It’s a 221B (221 words with the final word beginning with ‘b’).
Inspired by the way that Sherlock occasionally loudly clicks the ‘k’ at the end of words – “Wounded in action; suntan ... Afghanistan or IraQ”; “Bad news for brain worK”; and “Not much cop, this caring larK”. (Other examples may be available.)
The Click of the K
It’s only recently that John has begun to react in this way to one of Sherlock’s idiosyncrasies, but his reaction becomes more pronounced as time passes and Sherlock finds it fascinating to watch how John’s pupils momentarily dilate whenever he pointedly and loudly clicks the ‘k’ at the end of a word.
Why else do you think that the fridge is always empty of everyday essentials? It isn’t that Sherlock uses them in experiments; he deliberately gets rid of them just so that he can step well inside John’s personal space, gaze soulfully into his eyes, lower his voice to cello-jaguar pitch and softly tell him, “John, we appear to be out of mil...K.”
So it really shouldn’t be a surprise – but nevertheless is – when John finally responds to Sherlock’s lame attempts at seduction. As Sherlock looms over him, locks his gaze onto him and intensely informs him, “We need more fruitca...KE. Oh, and garli...C,” John frantically seizes his shirt and groans, “Sherlock!” and isn’t that a surprise – Sherlock isn’t the only one who can make a ‘k’ sound good. But before there’s time to analyse that news, John starts snogging him like they’re going to ban it tomorrow. Sherlock gasps, trying to catalogue everything he’s feeling, but John’s tongue slips inside his mouth and Sherlock’s mind rather inconveniently goes blan...
Talking of minds going blan...K, why is it that when you’re actively trying to think of foodstuffs other than milk that end with a ‘k’ sound, you can’t think of a single thing and initially you can only come up with really unconvincing suggestions like “haddock” or “cheesecake” (not really the kind of thing you’re likely to find in the boys’ kitchen, methinks) (though the temptation to use “spotted dick” was briefly overwhelming ...)? I’ve spent hours on Tesco’s website (other supermarket websites are available) looking at lists of food and consequently I’m now bloody starving!