"Of course," she says with a fond smile as her head tilts into his hand just a bit. Of course he is thinking about a million things at once and far too fast for any normal person to keep up she's sure.
"I can share the recipe with you. Any box or seat will do. Whenever you like - you know where to find me. And...I don't know."
She hadn't thought about that - that he could address it out right on his own platform that people read. That they don't have to get the gossip from Tatler. If he were to just come out and say it, then would that cut down on the gossip and speculation? Or will that just stir up more interest in her?
She's always been quick to catch up to him, he realizes, and this is no exception. It's why he's preferred working with her over anyone else in the morgue or the lab, right from the beginning. His expression warms subtly.
"If things haven't died down in a week I'll address it," he says, "but in the meantime. As I do know where to find you, I'll meet you there when your shift ends, before your next day off. Provided I'm not on a case."
Although any case that would win out over time spent with Molly Hooper is going to have to be an absolute corker.
"Alright," she says with a nod. Hopefully no one will really care that much, aside from Meena and Sophie who know her history with Sherlock.
"And I work a 12 hour starting tomorrow at 7am and then an overnight on Friday. I don't know if I'll be in much shape to do anything but sleep by 7am on Saturday. Might be better to plan on something later that day after I've had a few hours....If you're not on a case anyway."
Molly knows that cases will come first, especially the really interesting ones. That's okay with her. He's got a job, like she's got a job. Or sort of like she's got a job. His is just erratic and unpredictable. She can live with it.
omg it was amazing. *_* and hopefully snow day from work tomorrow...
"I could bring breakfast," he suggests. "Or lunch, I suppose, depending on whether Rosie sleeps through the night."
Yes, he sometimes gets up in the middle of the night when his goddaughter starts crying to address the situation. Or, well. Often it's not so much that he gets up as that he's already up and he might as well help because John's still having a rough go of it most days.
"Although it's entirely likely I'll see you at work before then."
"I thought it might be likely," Molly says with a pleased smile. He did stop by often when she was working to get access to the lab or morgue, so it wouldn't be weird for him to do so now. Except that some of her coworkers know about them. That might be awkward. She doesn't want to seem unprofessional, having her boyfriend(?) coming by her workplace. She's also not sure about calling him her boyfriend. Partner? Male friend? Yeah, no. Not that last one.
"But, if not, breakfast or lunch on Saturday would be good. I'll be hungry after my shift."
She usually ate a little something before going to bed. Overnights really messed her up though.
(He's really not fond of the word boyfriend, because he's hardly a boy anymore, but there are really very few terms in English that even come close to sounding acceptable. Though he supposes he's grateful they're not French, as he remembers learning that the standard phrase for someone you're in a relationship with is petite amie, and Molly is certainly a lot more than a 'little friend'.)
"And it'll be more than crisps this time, as it's a terrible idea to eat those in bed."
"Oh, are we eating in bed?" she asks with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. "Going to feed me bonbons?"
She giggles at the idea of it. She's never found the idea of bringing food into bedroom activities as that appealing. It seems messy more than sexy. Although she's not opposed to breakfast in bed.
He finds himself laughing too, caught up in the absurdity of the idea. It makes for a very dramatic image, like something you might see on the cover of a terrible romance novel.
"Feed you? Are you planning to handcuff yourself to the headboard?"
Although as soon as he's said it, he finds himself actually considering the idea, which is... actually sort of appealing. Not the bonbons part of it, though, just the handcuffs.
Molly's eyebrows shoot up at the question and then she gets a devilish little smirk.
"I don't know, do you want me handcuffed to the headboard?" she counters, knowing that he probably didn't even mean that sexually. At least, not initially. As soon as it's out of his mouth she can see the wheels turning.
Abruptly the moment's starting to change, the heat between them sparking up again. It's probably going to keep being a little alarming to him for a while that his sexual response to her can be as immediate and powerful as it is, but right now that only adds to the thrill.
"I might," he says, his voice dropping a bit. "Though I didn't bring my cuffs, so I'd have to use the scarf instead."
And just like that, Molly's lost the upper hand in the conversation. Her bit of teasing had quickly been made into a possible reality with Sherlock's response which brings a sudden onslaught of visuals to her, never mind he's suggesting utilizing his scarf. It's possible the scarf has made its way into her fantasies before.
"Uh...yes...the scarf would be...fine," she says, blushing at her own imagination. "I mean...if you're serious."
They've barely got food into them and they're already talking about sex again. Not that she's surprised by it. It's usually how things start out. And she's certainly not got a problem with it.
He realizes his window of focus is about to start narrowing dangerously.
"We should put away the nutella, at least," he says--after all, even if he and Toby don't exactly get along, that cat is very dear to Molly and he'd hate to be responsible for Toby getting sick off food that shouldn't be out. "But. Yes. I am serious."
Molly huffs out a laugh because the whole thing is still so absurd to her in some ways. Sherlock and her just sitting at her kitchen counter discussing which food to put away before having a shag. Totally normal.
"If you can wait until I can get the perishables back into the fridge, then I can," she suggests. There are a lot of leftover crepes, which is good because neither of them have eaten nearly enough and they'll be hungry again after this round for sure. "I'll be quick."
Which won't take nearly as long, but he can get a few other things out of the way while she's tidying up, he thinks.
As casually as he can manage (which is not very, thanks to the fact that he's already half hard), he pushes out of his seat and heads into the hall to grab his scarf. He also snags the variety pack of condoms, in case she wants to try something a little different--personally he's a bit curious as to whether the textured ones make any sort of noticeable difference, but ultimately it's her decision.
By the time she gets back into the bedroom, he's plugged in his phone (still silenced, which is how he plans to keep it for most of the day), found one of Toby's catnip toys and put it out in the living room to encourage him not to interrupt, and stripped back down to nothing. After all, if her hands are going to be tied, it's probably best to be naked before they get started.
Molly busies herself with putting the food away but can't help but notice Sherlock coming into the living room and throwing a cat down out for Toby. She laughs to herself. How thoughtful. Even if she knows he's only doing it so they won't be disturbed.
Barely five minutes later she's done and heads to the bedroom.
She's surprised (and delighted) to find Sherlock buck naked already and she can't help the laugh that bubbles up.
"I wouldn't mind this view every time I enter my bedroom," she comments as she leans against the door jam and her eyes sweep over him unabashedly. She hasn't really had this good a look at him naked yet, in daylight and all. He's too thin right now, a bit pale, and there are various scars peppering his skin, but he's still a work of art.
"I could get a poster done," he teases, and turns to give her a full-on view of how hard he already is for her. "However, we're a bit unbalanced, and that's hardly fair. And you did tell me to be nicer to your tits, which I can't do adequately if I can't see them."
He's got one end of the scarf wrapped loosely around his right hand, and he plays with the other end, fingers worrying the soft fabric of it suggestively.
"How about a cardboard cutout," she teases right back and bites her lip at the sight of him already so turned on for her. She's been low-grade aroused since he mentioned the slight bondage but she can feel her knickers getting wetter now. Her eyes move to the scarf in his hands and then back up to his face.
"Do you want to take your shirt off me or do you want to watch me do it myself?"
Her arousal and the hungry way he's looking at her makes her bold.
Molly likes that he's getting more comfortable with this already. And, well, having her tied up will give him plenty of time to get even more comfortable with asserting himself.
"Alright," she says and her hands move to the top button. Her eyes don't leave him as she undoes each button on his dress shirt until the end. She then takes both sides and pulls it open before shrugging it off her shoulders. The knickers come next and she turns slightly so he can get a good view of her ass as she slides them off her hips and down her legs.
She steps out of them and then does as he says, smiling at him as she walks over and sits on the bed.
He watches her hungrily--showing off, he realizes, putting herself on display for him even though she knows how harsh his opinions can be. That confidence excites him, and he's still so surprised that he could have missed deducing what a capacity she has for it. But then, he's only just let himself get close enough to see her properly.
When she sits, he turns towards her a bit, brings the end of the scarf down to trail over the warm bare skin of her thigh. It's incredibly soft, like rabbit fur or silk, and he enjoys watching her skin prick up as the scarf ghosts over it.
"Much better," he says, and leans in to kiss the corner of her mouth.
What he may not realize is he's actually some of the source of her confidence. The more she can tell he's interested, the more he tries so very hard to please her, the more reverent and loving his looks, the more confident she feels. Which is really a win-win all around. She knows no man is turned on by someone lacking confidence. Well, unless he's the type who likes to abuse and control. But that's not Sherlock.
"Mm," she agrees and feels a shiver slide up her spine at the soft feel of his scarf. That scarf he is almost never without in the cooler months, that is as much a part of his facade as the coat (or the hat, if you believe the press). After the first kiss, she turns her head to press her lips to his. It's soft and rather chaste.
He returns that kiss slowly, warmly, the two of them almost melting into one another for a moment. His free hand comes up to brush at her cheek, a silent reassurance that she can trust him.
After a long, long taste of her, he makes himself pull back, at least enough to whisper against her mouth.
"I'll stop if you need me to. As soon as you say. All right?"
Molly's hands slide behind his neck and she sighs into his mouth as they kiss. Her body is heating up even more and she's anticipating what's to come. His voice and words send a particular thrill through her body. She's going to give all control over to Sherlock and that is incredibly arousing and exciting.
"I trust you," she says as she opens her eyes to look right into his. She trusts him explicitly. He's shown an immense amount of trust in her just by allowing himself to love her, letting himself be vulnerable and try things he's spent years denying himself. She wants to return the favour by showing her trust in him.
He smiles, just slightly, lips curving against her mouth. That word trust sinks into him deeply, just as deeply as the heat of a good long shower, causing tension to release by inches in his shoulders and back and fingers.
"Then lie back," he says softly, pressing a small warm kiss to her throat. "Hands above your head."
Molly can almost feel the relief in him when she says that and it pleases her. So do his next words.
Silently she complies with him again, her body flushing with the simple act of putting her hands up and waiting for him to bind her. She looks up at him and waits.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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"I can share the recipe with you. Any box or seat will do. Whenever you like - you know where to find me. And...I don't know."
She hadn't thought about that - that he could address it out right on his own platform that people read. That they don't have to get the gossip from Tatler. If he were to just come out and say it, then would that cut down on the gossip and speculation? Or will that just stir up more interest in her?
back from vacation~! <3
"If things haven't died down in a week I'll address it," he says, "but in the meantime. As I do know where to find you, I'll meet you there when your shift ends, before your next day off. Provided I'm not on a case."
Although any case that would win out over time spent with Molly Hooper is going to have to be an absolute corker.
\o/ I hope you had a great time!
"And I work a 12 hour starting tomorrow at 7am and then an overnight on Friday. I don't know if I'll be in much shape to do anything but sleep by 7am on Saturday. Might be better to plan on something later that day after I've had a few hours....If you're not on a case anyway."
Molly knows that cases will come first, especially the really interesting ones. That's okay with her. He's got a job, like she's got a job. Or sort of like she's got a job. His is just erratic and unpredictable. She can live with it.
omg it was amazing. *_* and hopefully snow day from work tomorrow...
Yes, he sometimes gets up in the middle of the night when his goddaughter starts crying to address the situation. Or, well. Often it's not so much that he gets up as that he's already up and he might as well help because John's still having a rough go of it most days.
"Although it's entirely likely I'll see you at work before then."
Awesome! And I already have a snow day. :D
"But, if not, breakfast or lunch on Saturday would be good. I'll be hungry after my shift."
She usually ate a little something before going to bed. Overnights really messed her up though.
UPDATE SNOW DAYS ARE THE BEST
(He's really not fond of the word boyfriend, because he's hardly a boy anymore, but there are really very few terms in English that even come close to sounding acceptable. Though he supposes he's grateful they're not French, as he remembers learning that the standard phrase for someone you're in a relationship with is petite amie, and Molly is certainly a lot more than a 'little friend'.)
"And it'll be more than crisps this time, as it's a terrible idea to eat those in bed."
THEY ARE.
She giggles at the idea of it. She's never found the idea of bringing food into bedroom activities as that appealing. It seems messy more than sexy. Although she's not opposed to breakfast in bed.
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"Feed you? Are you planning to handcuff yourself to the headboard?"
Although as soon as he's said it, he finds himself actually considering the idea, which is... actually sort of appealing. Not the bonbons part of it, though, just the handcuffs.
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"I don't know, do you want me handcuffed to the headboard?" she counters, knowing that he probably didn't even mean that sexually. At least, not initially. As soon as it's out of his mouth she can see the wheels turning.
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"I might," he says, his voice dropping a bit. "Though I didn't bring my cuffs, so I'd have to use the scarf instead."
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"Uh...yes...the scarf would be...fine," she says, blushing at her own imagination. "I mean...if you're serious."
They've barely got food into them and they're already talking about sex again. Not that she's surprised by it. It's usually how things start out. And she's certainly not got a problem with it.
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"We should put away the nutella, at least," he says--after all, even if he and Toby don't exactly get along, that cat is very dear to Molly and he'd hate to be responsible for Toby getting sick off food that shouldn't be out. "But. Yes. I am serious."
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"If you can wait until I can get the perishables back into the fridge, then I can," she suggests. There are a lot of leftover crepes, which is good because neither of them have eaten nearly enough and they'll be hungry again after this round for sure. "I'll be quick."
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Which won't take nearly as long, but he can get a few other things out of the way while she's tidying up, he thinks.
As casually as he can manage (which is not very, thanks to the fact that he's already half hard), he pushes out of his seat and heads into the hall to grab his scarf. He also snags the variety pack of condoms, in case she wants to try something a little different--personally he's a bit curious as to whether the textured ones make any sort of noticeable difference, but ultimately it's her decision.
By the time she gets back into the bedroom, he's plugged in his phone (still silenced, which is how he plans to keep it for most of the day), found one of Toby's catnip toys and put it out in the living room to encourage him not to interrupt, and stripped back down to nothing. After all, if her hands are going to be tied, it's probably best to be naked before they get started.
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Barely five minutes later she's done and heads to the bedroom.
She's surprised (and delighted) to find Sherlock buck naked already and she can't help the laugh that bubbles up.
"I wouldn't mind this view every time I enter my bedroom," she comments as she leans against the door jam and her eyes sweep over him unabashedly. She hasn't really had this good a look at him naked yet, in daylight and all. He's too thin right now, a bit pale, and there are various scars peppering his skin, but he's still a work of art.
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He's got one end of the scarf wrapped loosely around his right hand, and he plays with the other end, fingers worrying the soft fabric of it suggestively.
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"Do you want to take your shirt off me or do you want to watch me do it myself?"
Her arousal and the hungry way he's looking at her makes her bold.
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"Alright," she says and her hands move to the top button. Her eyes don't leave him as she undoes each button on his dress shirt until the end. She then takes both sides and pulls it open before shrugging it off her shoulders. The knickers come next and she turns slightly so he can get a good view of her ass as she slides them off her hips and down her legs.
She steps out of them and then does as he says, smiling at him as she walks over and sits on the bed.
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When she sits, he turns towards her a bit, brings the end of the scarf down to trail over the warm bare skin of her thigh. It's incredibly soft, like rabbit fur or silk, and he enjoys watching her skin prick up as the scarf ghosts over it.
"Much better," he says, and leans in to kiss the corner of her mouth.
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"Mm," she agrees and feels a shiver slide up her spine at the soft feel of his scarf. That scarf he is almost never without in the cooler months, that is as much a part of his facade as the coat (or the hat, if you believe the press). After the first kiss, she turns her head to press her lips to his. It's soft and rather chaste.
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After a long, long taste of her, he makes himself pull back, at least enough to whisper against her mouth.
"I'll stop if you need me to. As soon as you say. All right?"
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"I trust you," she says as she opens her eyes to look right into his. She trusts him explicitly. He's shown an immense amount of trust in her just by allowing himself to love her, letting himself be vulnerable and try things he's spent years denying himself. She wants to return the favour by showing her trust in him.
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"Then lie back," he says softly, pressing a small warm kiss to her throat. "Hands above your head."
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Silently she complies with him again, her body flushing with the simple act of putting her hands up and waiting for him to bind her. She looks up at him and waits.
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