Fic: 221B - Screwed, blued, and tattooed
Jan. 23rd, 2013 07:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
anarionTitle: Screwed, blued, and tattooed
Words: a 221B has 221 words and ends with a b-word
Rating: PG-13
Pairings : Sherlock/John
Warnings: none
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: ‘365 days of 221Bs’ challenge: a prompt a day, given by
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atlinmerrick. Day 224.Previous 221b: The frailty of genius
Today's prompt: tattoo
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Screwed, blued, and tattooed
“Sherlock?”
No answer. John put down the celery he had just taken out of the fridge, picked up a carrot and called again, this time turning his head towards Sherlock’s old bedroom. Since they had set up their shared bedroom in John’s old one, Sherlock mainly used this one for his work.
John heard the door being opened and he started to speak before Sherlock had entered.
“Sherlock, are we going to be home tonight? I wanted to make pasta with tomato... Holy mother of God!”
Sherlock was wearing black jeans, black unlaced boots and a black tee, his hair was an unruly mess and there was some form of tribal tattoo twining round his right arm. John was as hard as the carrot he was holding in a matter of seconds.
Sherlock was busy tying a bracelet around his wrist and did not notice John staring.
“I’m going to check out the club where the dead painter used to spent his weekends. Don’t wait up, might come back late. Oh.”
He looked at John.
“You like how I look.”
John swallowed.
“I don’t think ‘like’ covers it.”
Ten minutes later Sherlock left the house. In the kitchen John was slumped against the fridge, panting, trousers pooled around his ankles, staring at the celery while aftershocks still prickled in his balls.
Next 221b: There is no pleasing some people
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AN:
The prompt - courtesy of Verity Burns - was 'tattoo'.
The celery obviously is a shout-out to
chocolamousse’s Going Home! :D .
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no subject
Date: 2013-01-23 06:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-01-23 07:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-01-23 07:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-01-23 09:51 pm (UTC)Thank you. Best mental image overwrite EVER.
no subject
Date: 2013-01-24 12:33 am (UTC)Did my birthday come early?
Because something sure as hell did :D
no subject
Date: 2013-01-31 09:59 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-01-24 02:31 am (UTC)*Thinks* Oh Hell, Yes!
*Remembers it's Anarion*
*Checks Tags*
*SHOUTS* Oh Hell, Yes!
*Reads*
Sends 'Thank You' from the floor and feeling much like John at the moment.
Well, mostly like John. Am lacking both celery and um...bits?
no subject
Date: 2013-01-31 09:59 am (UTC)Hahaha! :D
no subject
Date: 2013-01-24 10:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-01-24 09:01 pm (UTC)*pokes head back in*
Thanks for reminding me, darling!
Also, please feel free to join the celery week! ;)
no subject
Date: 2013-01-25 12:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-01-25 09:22 am (UTC)*clicks link to Choco's story*
*looks at title*
*gulps, opens mouth in embarrassment, then closes it and giggles*
Why am I not surprised at myself?
no subject
Date: 2013-01-24 11:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-01-24 06:46 pm (UTC)hhnnfgfggf, I might feel a bit like John here....
no subject
Date: 2013-01-25 12:52 am (UTC)“I don’t think ‘like’ covers it.”
Ten minutes later Sherlock left the house. In the kitchen John was slumped against the fridge, panting, trousers pooled around his ankles, staring at the celery while aftershocks still prickled in his balls.
I'm sorry but I don't understand this passage. I don't know if LJ deleted some lines or if it's a flaw in your writing but... *re-reads the scene* No, it doesn't make sense, I really don't understand what has happened to John during these ten minutes. Be more specific please. ;-)
P.S. Yay for the celery!