Sherlock X Reader One Shots || 𝐹𝐿𝑈𝐹𝐹 + 𝑆𝑀𝑈𝑇

There's A Dog In This One (Part 5)

Sherlock joined Y/N on her bed quickly this time, rather than hovering next to it like the entire thing was something expensive he was afraid to break. He petted Basil's shaggy head then climbed onto the mattress with the same ease he'd have getting into a taxi or curling up in his favourite armchair. His cheeks are pink, still, but with more of an excited flush than a bashful blush as he stretches his long legs before him and gave Y/N a tentative smile.

She had propped the pillows up along the headboard, making them into a plush backrest, which Sherlock settled against, his shoulders becoming engulfed in their embrace. Y/N's bed is comfier than his, and always slightly aglow with warmth. He thinks that's because her duvet has 'down' on the label, but that's got nothing to do with it; what he's actually enjoying is the sensation of another life being so close to his own.

"Here." He'd brought something with him, a purple box dappled with pink spots, the familiar logo and framed white font peeking out from under his thumb. "I got these for Christmas and haven't gotten around to eating them."

Y/N raised her eyebrows. "You never got around to eating chocolates? Who are you and want have you done with Sherlock Holmes?"

His cheeks coloured but Y/N could see he was trying to fight off a smile. "Shut up. Do you want any or not?"

"Ah, he's back."

If Sherlock was a child, he definitely would have stuck his tongue out at her. Instead, he started picking the sticker that held the two halves off the box together off with his nail, and, once he'd peeled it free, stuck it to Y/N's forehead.

She blinked in surprise, not that he noticed; he'd placed the Cadbury's Milk Tray on his lap and opened the lid like a book, revealing the plethora of treats sitting unsuspectingly in their black plastic tray. He took a plain chocolate cube and popped it in his mouth. He didn't chew it, just sucked it a little, letting the chocolate melt around his teeth.

Y/N watched his tongue push against the insides of his cheeks as he arranged the chocolate in his mouth, for some reason unable to look away. 

Eventually, he chewed whatever was left and swallowed, Y/N's gaze being drawn along the stretch of his throat and down into his pyjama top. She waited for him to offer her one, but he didn't. He just took another for himself; one of the ones that have a layer of white, milk and dark chocolate, which he ate separately, biting off each one with the rocky edge of his front teeth.

Eventually, Y/N realised he might have expected her to just take what she wanted, so reached out to do so---

But he moved the box slightly to the left just before her thumb and forefinger could close around---well, anything. Her empty hand looked like one of those claw machines that had just failed to grab a prize.

She narrowed her eyes. "I thought you said I could have some."

With the hand not inconspicuously clamped to the box, Sherlock had taken the television remote and started flicking through films to watch. Feigning nonchalance: "Well, I'm not sure I want to share now." But the corner of his lips kept twitching like it wanted to turn up into a smirk.

Y/N matched his pretend moody pout, her expression a cocktail of playful determination and mock contempt as she tried a different approach; simply snatching a chocolate.

Once again, Sherlock pushed the box out of her reach. Y/N huffed at him. "Sherlock," she warned, and he bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling at the sound of his name on her tongue. "Stop mucking around." She of course didn't really want him to stop---she's rarely seen him muck about, but the few times he has (all in much more recent months) have been glistening jewels in the crown of her memories.