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]

"Beautiful," he murmurs.

[semicharmed]

Matt gives an agreeable moan, his back arching against Sherlock's chest.

(reverence be to thee coming, reverence to thee going)

His hips start to jerk as his hand works faster. He is keeping hold of the bright thread of magic but losing touch with the rest, growing heedless of the noises he's making and the near-frantic motion of his hand, so close almost--

(reverence to thee when thou breathest in reverence when thou breathest out reverence--)


This time, the mess is mostly on his chest.

[wearsthecoats]

"It is fascinating," Sherlock says softly, "the way you do that."

Even odds whether he is discussing the magic, or something more concrete.

[semicharmed]

Matt is a little slow on the uptake at present. He's only just at the point of realizing with pleasure that the energy has settled around him as brightly as before.

Pleasant, still breathless, "Do what ...?"

[wearsthecoats]

"Magic."

He kisses Matt's temple.

[semicharmed]

"Mmmm."

Matt slumps against his chest.

"Going on eight years now. There's ... rarely a dull moment."

[wearsthecoats]

"It feels..." He searches for words, settles on: "interesting."

[semicharmed]

He laughs.

"Glad to hear it."

A lazy stretch.

"Okay. I'll clean myself off and get this going." The longer he waits, the higher the chance he'll miss the no-TMI timing again.

[wearsthecoats]

"You do that," Sherlock murmurs, kissing his shoulder.

[semicharmed]

Matt rustles up some willpower and gets to his feet.

A quick jaunt to the bathroom to clean himself off, and he's back to sketching chalk circles on the carpet.

This time he's naked.

"All right, Agni," he murmurs, glancing back to his computer screen for the next sigil in the sequence, "I hope I'm not calling too many times ..."

[wearsthecoats]

Sherlock watches attentively.

[semicharmed]

He's pleased; he managed to get more energy this time around. It might help that he's more comfortable with Sherlock and more confident in the spell.

Matt steps inside the new circle, and again closes it off. Again, he murmurs a prayer in an ancient language, leaving the cardamom and rosemary to burn in the dish.

The aura around him shifts tawnier and warmer.

[wearsthecoats]

It's still every bit as fascinating.

[semicharmed]

After a moment, once the aura has settled, Matt steps out of the circle with a crooked smile.

"Okay," he says.

"I feel like I just programmed myself with a self-destruct button."

Cardamom is a terrible, wonderful, worst/greatest idea herb.

[wearsthecoats]

"Does this metaphor end in explosions?" he asks, opening his arms.

[semicharmed]

He grins, stepping in and sliding his arms around Sherlock's waist. The shock of it-- though it feels the same as last time, the same fever-warmth to perfect chill-- still makes him gasp.

He kisses Sherlock's chest.

"I think that one's up to you."

[wearsthecoats]

Sherlock hugs Matt to him and kisses the top of his head.

"In that case, it absolutely does."

[semicharmed]

He shivers, pleasant.

"Oh, boy," he mumbles.

A beat.

"In that case: experiments. Did you have anything specific in mind?"

[wearsthecoats]

"Not... as such. The extent of my ambition is to have something at least half that glorious again without having to defrost the bed afterward."

[semicharmed]

"Ahh."

He presumes this has to do with control.

Pressing another kiss to his chest, Matt says, "Can I help?"

[wearsthecoats]

"Not sure," he muses. "Other than by continuing to be glorious."

[semicharmed]

He grins.

"I plan to do my very best."

His mouth turns towards a nipple, teeth scraping and tongue flicking against it.

"Of course," he muses.

"If you want to avoid defrosting the bed for sure, we could always go for the couch this time. Or a wall. Or the floor."

[wearsthecoats]

He laughs, tipping his head back.

"Mm. What a pleasant array of options."

[semicharmed]

Kneading his fingers into Sherlock's back-- God, touching him is so tripped-- Matt says against his chest, "I'm here to help."

[wearsthecoats]

"Couch is most comfortable," he decides. "I have a distinct desire to put you in my lap and kiss you some more."