HI MATT

[wearsthecoats]

Sherlock has:

• an armchair by the fire
• an expression of unreasonable cheer
• a mug of cold-pressed coffee
• a truly impressive collection of hickeys, accented by a well-bitten lip that only recently stopped bleeding.

Comments

[wearsthecoats]

There's something beautiful about being the centre of such intensity. He's felt like this before, and it was pure glory then, too.

Moaning, he presses his mouth to Matt's hip and sucks.

[semicharmed]

In hindsight, Matt will have a difficult time choosing between which he finds more embarrassing.

1) That he comes with a moan so loud and sharp it's nearly a scream,

or

2) that a vivid flash of sensation comes along with it; not just his mouth, you're on fire but his mouth is so, but teeth breaking your skin hot blood oh god Sherlock--

[wearsthecoats]

And in return—

He remembers Jim's fingers digging bruises into his shoulderblades, his hands white with frost around Jim's neck, the way Jim shivered under him.

[semicharmed]

There's something very familiar about that picture.

But the only coherent thought that will stick in Matt's brain, as he sinks helplessly onto the mattress with a groan of utter satiation, is:


I overdid it on the cardamom.

[wearsthecoats]

"...Well," Sherlock murmurs.

"That was interesting. I don't know about you, but I'm ready to call the experiment a success."

[semicharmed]

Matt glances to him, dazed and very pleased.

"Mmm?"

He should apologize for the overshare.

He should try to figure out exactly what happened with his tattoo.


"... Yeah," he agrees.

"Me too."

[wearsthecoats]

He snuggles closer.

...Somewhat ruefully.

"If that spell of yours has a finite lifespan, you should plan to be out of this bed before it expires," he notes. "Because I appear to have created a small snowdrift."

[semicharmed]

Matt casts a quick look around at the frost and ice on the bed, and laughs.

"'Mstill a little too hot," he says, snuggling gratefully with his cheek to Sherlock's chest.

"But ... yeah. It'll run out. Sooner rather than later."

Beat.

"How you doing?"

[wearsthecoats]

"Brilliantly," he sighs.

"I want to try again, though, and make some effort to control myself this time."

[semicharmed]

Matt nuzzles Sherlock's chest affectionately.

"Ah-- when would you want to do that?"

[wearsthecoats]

"No preference."

[semicharmed]

"It wouldn't be the worst idea for me to tweak a few elements," he notes, rueful.

"Uh-- a couple of things in there weren't exactly supposed to happen, in case you hadn't guessed."

[wearsthecoats]

"The part where you go off like a firework when I touch that tattoo, for example?"

[semicharmed]

For a moment, both Matt's cheeks and his aura flush a little warmer.


"That ... would be one, yeah."

[wearsthecoats]

"I rather liked that one."

[semicharmed]

What is is about Sherlock Holmeses, exactly, that gets him all hot and bothered to let them use his own magic against him?

Matt opens his mouth, then shuts it.

"Yeah," he admits weakly.

"I liked it too."

As much-- probably even more-- than he secretly or not-so-secretly enjoyed the first of his practical demonstrations.

[wearsthecoats]

"And the... whatever that was... just now was interesting, too." Half a beat. "Hopefully I didn't disturb you, if you saw what Jim and I were getting up to."

Because there are probably some people somewhere who aren't into that! Although Matt at least doesn't seem to rate too low on the scale of interesting sexual proclivities, judging by what Sherlock saw from him.

[semicharmed]

"I'm sorry, about that," Matt says automatically, as a few puzzle pieces click together in his brain. "It's the same thing we did before, with the handshake ..."

Jim and I.

"... Actually, weird question.

How many Jim Moriartys are there around here?"

[wearsthecoats]

"It was... rather more intense this time; I wasn't completely sure it was the same phenomenon. And there's one, that I know of. Why?"

[semicharmed]

His lips quirk.

"I recognized him. I think."

(He feels now only pleasantly warm, though still a little feverish.)

[wearsthecoats]

"...Really. From where?"

[semicharmed]

"Here."

Still amused.

"Guy's name was Jim, and he looked a lot like ... a less cold version of the guy I saw with you."

[wearsthecoats]

"Odds are it's the same Jim, then. But I suppose you never know."

[semicharmed]

"On the one hand," Matt concurs, "you never do. On the other hand, this place is an extremely small world."

He supposes it's not like you actually come out and say, 'hello I am a villain.' (Conventional wisdom dictates that you smile and smile.)

Matt's fingers stroke absently over Sherlock's stomach.

"Anyway. I think I must have mis-timed the spell that keeps all that under wraps."

[wearsthecoats]

"Potentially inconvenient, but I don't really mind," he says. "It's fascinating, actually. Temperature feels so different to you."