So, I've seen you around and read you in a number of fandoms I've lurked in (SGA, Sherlock) but I had NO IDEA you are German, too. Irgendwie erwarte ich nie, dass andere Fans auch aus Deutschland kommen (ich weiß, ich weiß, viel Sinn macht das nicht). Von dem Schock muss ich mich jetzt erstmal erholen! *winkt aus Bayern* But originally I wanted to take you up on the fic-prompting offer, so here goes: Sherlock/Lestrade, asexuality, winter, apples.
Dear god, that was hard to write. Also, yeah, hi! Grüße aus NRW! :D
Lestrade knows Sherlock has no idea he’s even doing it. It’s like anything to do with sex is this huge blind spot, something he’ll only see if you take his head with both hands and turn it in the right direction.
Knowing Sherlock has no idea he’s doing it doesn’t make it any better.
Sherlock’s cheeks are flushed from the cold, the tip of his nose a rosy hue that, absurdly, makes his eyes shine. His lips are bright red from the bloody candy apple he’d been licking and nipping at for a full five minutes before he finally ate the damn thing. And now he keeps sucking at his - gloved! - fingertips to get candy and apple juice off the leather.
If Lestrade finds the bloody tosser who’s been killing the vendors at the German Christmas market, he’s going to lock him up and throw away the key, and no mistake.
For now, he’ll see if he can get Sherlock to try the candied grapes next.
