221B Drabbles

by moonblossom

Chapter 210: Baiser

Notes:

Did something a little different here. Today's drabble is in French. Just because I can. Haha! But there's a translation beneath it, for those of you who can't read french. Unfortunately the translation itself is not a 221b.

La lune luit par la fenêtre, traçant le profil de Sherlock. John roule sur son coté, étudiant Sherlock, qui étudie a son tour le plafond.

"Ca va?"

En réponse, Sherlock tourne, face-a-face avec John. "Mm, ouais. Pourquoi?"

"T'avais l'air perdu dans tes pensées."

Sherlock sourit. "John, je suis presque toujours perdu dans ma tête, tu devras y savoir par maintenant."

John rit, la motion secouant doucement le matelas.

"Presque? Y'a-t-il vraiment des moments ou le grand Sherlock Holmes ne pense a rien?"

Le coin d'un coté des lèvres de Sherlock monte, un sourire subtil, mais quand-même évident a John, qui connaît si bien ses expressions.

"Pas rien, exactement. Plutôt que le présent m'intéresse tellement que ca ne me tente pas de penser a d'autres choses." John laisse traîner ses yeux sur Sherlock, comprenant exactement qu'est-ce qu'il veut dire. Ses lèvres sont rouges, ses paupières tombantes, son excitation évident. Mais John a envie de lui taquiner un peu.

"Je ne comprends pas du tout."

Avec un air renfrogné, Sherlock commence a tracer le long du cou de John avec sa langue, montant vers son oreille. Avec un soupir, John laisse tomber sa tête du cote. Il a la sensation qu'ils devraient bientôt dormir, mais tout a coup ca ne semble plus important. Beaucoup plus pressant qu'ils prennent leur temps a s'embrasser, a baiser.

Notes:

Translation:

The moonlight seeps in through the window, tracing Sherlock's profile. John rolls onto his side, studying Sherlock, who is in turn studying the ceiling.

"You okay?"

In response, Sherlock turns face-to-face with John. "Mmm, yeah. Why?"

"You looked lost in thought."

Sherlock smiles. "John, I am nearly always lost inside my own head, you should know that by now."

John laughs, the motion shaking the mattress slightly.

"Nearly? Are there really moments when the great Sherlock Holmes is thinking of nothing?"

One corner of Sherlock's lips rise, in a subtle smile but one that is nonetheless evident to John, who knows his expressions so well.

"Not nothing, exactly. More like the present is so interesting that I am not tempted to think of other things." John lets his eyes trail over Sherlock, understanding exactly what he's implying. His lips are red, his eyelids hooded, his arousal evident. But John feels like teasing him a bit.

"I don't understand at all."

Scowling, Sherlock begins to trace the length of John's neck with his tongue, rising towards his ear. With a sigh, John lets his head fall to the side. He has the vague notion that they should go to sleep soon, but suddenly that doesn't seem important. Much more urgent that they take their time embracing, kissing.