6- Smiling, maybe with a bit of a leer, John nods and starts to reply, but halts when Sherlock lifts one long leg and summarily straddles John’s lap, squeezing his lean body between the table and John. “Have you tasted it?” he asks – no, he rumbles, nearly purrs – and John nods. “Licked my finger when making your toast,” he replies distractedly. Sherlock’s already shaking his head, holding the cinnamon-honey and butter covered toast to John’s lips, purring, “Not the same, take a bite.” (tbc) Next bit…
Lady Karasu 