Sherlock is talking to Rosie, again.
For the past two months, they had fallen into some kind of routine. John goes to shower and get ready while listening to Sherlock’s voice explaining either the ingredients inside Rosie’s breakfast or the composition of the formula she drinks. Rosie usually hums and babbles happily in her highchair, her attention entirely focused on him. Sherlock had taken the habit of sitting her close to him, feeding her patiently and ignoring his own breakfast entirely.
John is starting to think he will never get tired of such mornings.
Today, Rosie is watching Sherlock with wide eyes as he details the pros and cons of one of her toys. She turns when John enters the kitchen and waves towards Sherlock as if to say, look what he’s doing to my bumble bee, and John can only nod and smile at her.
“She woke up later than usual,” Sherlock points out, putting the toy down and Rosie actually sighs in protest.
“Babies tends to sleep longer as they grow old, Sherlock,” John remarks, going for coffee pot.
“It’s probably because she went to bed later than usual,” Sherlock continues, waiting for Rosie to open her mouth. “Her sleep patterns are getting more regular.”
“Thank god for that,” John laughs and walks around the table.
He leans in as soon as he’s close enough, kissing Rosie’s forehead softly, murmuring a quiet “Morning love” as Sherlock goes into more detailed facts about Rosie’s sleeping habits. John isn’t sure what happens next, but without thinking twice about it and actually feeling like it’s the most natural thing in the world to do right now, he leans in towards Sherlock and kisses his temple with a smile.
For severals seconds, the only sounds echoing in the flat are Rosie’s babbling. John can’t seem to be able to move anymore and Sherlock’s body is tensed on his chair. He isn’t moving either, John remarks after a moment, and it finally starts to sink in. Sherlock’s skin, soft and strangely warm, his hair brushing John’s nose and the faint smell of honey soap.
In the end, Rosie’s spoon falling in the floor makes them both jump in surprise. John straightens up quickly, finding it hard to look away from Sherlock’s blushing face, and he clears his throat quietly. Sherlock slowly raises his eyes to him, and just for a moment, John wonders what it feels like not being completely, absolutely in love with this brilliant man.
“John,” Sherlock says in a breath, the word stretching around them for long seconds.
Even Rosie has fallen silent, as if aware of what she’s witnessing. With his heart pounding and his entire body shivering, John leans down again, eyes searching Sherlock’s and finding there bare trust and wonder. Sherlock’s lips feels nothing like what John had even dared to imagine, and they both exhales loudly. John lingers for severals seconds, their lips brushing softly, and raises one hand to stroke Sherlock’s nape carefully.
“Bee!” Rosie exclaims suddenly, forcing them appart but John remains close.
He opens his eyes slowly, finding Sherlock’s still closed and his lips stretching into a smile. “Again,” he whispers, and John finds himself laughing as he seals their lips once more. Both of Sherlock’s hands are now cupping his face, as if to keep him there, and John smiles into the kiss.
Rosie is still babbling to herself, and Sherlock’s thumbs are stroking John’s cheeks as he smiles back.
John is certain, he will never get tired of such mornings.
dailybridgerton
romaincrisis
pixelskylines
gamechangershow
gummygunk
2087
areudirty
yousharknotpass
