Sherlock used his arms to pull himself up the ship’s deck, crossing them once he reached the surface and resting his head on them. A malicious smile played on his lips as he hoped he would be able to entice the captain tonight. Eight men. That was the amount he’d picked up from this ship already. Yet the most desirable of them all still refused to show up. He called Captain Watson’s name in a sweet, smooth voice, clear as crystal in the night’s air.
Inspired by an rp going on between a friend and myself. I'm playing John, she's playing Sherlock