You're Sick
“John! Lestrade’s incompetence is showing again!”
“I don care.”
Sherlock crawled over the bed sheets until he was straddling John’s hips. He pulled the pillow off his lover’s face. John’s cheeks were flush and his eyes were watery. If Sherlock didn’t know better he would label John aroused. But he knew better. He dropped his lips to John’s brow and felt the heat instantly. “You’re sick.”
“Says the guy straddling the sick guy.” John tried to joke his smile not reaching his eyes.
“I don’t have to go.” Sherlock was giving that look again. The one that said he ‘isn’t quite sure what the social norms called for in this situation and though he can’t rationalize a reason for staying, there may be some emotional one he wasn’t catching’.
“No, go.” John shoved the detective lightly in the chest. “You’ll be bored and annoying if you stay.”
“I won’t be that long.” Sherlock looked relieved but a little torn. John warmed a bit at that. “Should I bring back anything?”
“Mineral water if you think of it.”
“Alright.” Sherlock dropped a kiss on John’s lips. The doctor sputtered and pushed him off.
“You’re gonna get sick!”
“I never get sick.” Sherlock’s eyes were gleaming. “And I like to kiss you.”
“Well you won’t in a few hours when I’m tasting like something found in a back alley.”
“Then I better get them in now.” The detective caught John’s lips before he could protest landing a deep kiss before John kicked him off.
“Sherlock!”
“I’m going!” Sherlock shuffled to the door a grin plastered on his face. Then his face dropped in seriousness. “Text me if you need anything.” John nodded smiling. “Or call.”
“Call? I wouldn’t dream of it!”
“I’m serious.”
“I know.”
Sherlock’s grin returned as he pulled out his phone to text Lestrade. “This shouldn’t take long.”
“Love you too.” John offered to the retreating back before flopping back down on the bed and reaching out for the pillow.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Two things Sherlock noticed when he entered the apartment. It’s smelled like vomit and there were moans coming from the bedroom.
He ran up the steps, dropping the mineral water by their living room. John was twisted in the bedding, sweat dripping down his face and hands gripping the mattress. He was dreaming. Which was not surprising he often did when he was sick. His leg kicked out suddenly, smacking the wall painfully causing Sherlock to take action. He quickly jumped on the bed alongside John and wrapped his arms around him. John fought at first, panicking at the weight holding him down, until Sherlock began kissing his face. The detective watched his features smooth out from his position pressed to the doctor’s lips.
“You’re gonna get sick.” John said into his mouth, no energy to push him off again.
Sherlock smiled down at him, dropping one more kiss on his lips for good measure. “You don’t taste that bad.”
“I brushed my teeth.”
“Good.” Sherlock looked John over carefully from his position sitting on him. He was still flushed. Hotter than he had been that morning. He’d obviously been sick. “I got your water.”
“Thanks.” John eyes were nearly closed again.
“I’ll let you sleep then.”
“Ok.”
Sherlock left the room reluctantly. John had already drifted back to a restless sleep. He stepped over the water on the way to the couch and pulled open his lap top. A few minutes later John was shuffling down the stairs, their blanket wrapped around his shoulders. The man looked absolutely adorable when he was feeling absolutely terrible. It was an unfortunate thing really. Sherlock raised an eyebrow at his bundled companion but moved to the corner of the couch to make room for John to lie down.
“I figured I would be less likely to have nightmares.” Was John’s explanation before he nearly dropped onto the couch laying his head in Sherlock’s lap. Sherlock’s fingers automatically carded through his hair. His cool palms resting on john’s burning forehead and fingers massaging his scalp.
“Sherlock-“
“You love me. I know.” The detective smiled satisfied with himself.
“How did-“
“It’s about this far into a fever that you start professing your love for me every fifteen to twenty minutes.” Sherlock smiled at the glare from his companion. “Good thing for you I never had to care for you before we were together. You would have given yourself away an hour into your upset stomach.”
“Well you could have just let me say it.” John said drowsily, already falling asleep with Sherlock’s hand in his hair. He snaked an arm out of the blanket to wrap around the other man’s waist his eyes finally closing.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“I’m never kissing you again.”
“Is that so?” John didn’t look up from his paper but a smile spread across his face and he bit his lip to keep from laughing. “That’s unfortunate.”
“John . . . “
“I guess for your sake I will refrain from ever kissing you again.”
“JOHN” Sherlock whined from his position wrapped around John’s waist and the doctor put the paper away. The man was even more clingy when he was unwell and John had barely been able to separate himself to make a trip to the bathroom alone. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Tease.”
“Well Sherlock I always took you as someone who says what they mean.”
“Rubbish. I’m a liar.”
“Is that so?”
“I plan on kissing you again as soon as I can sit up properly.”
“Well that may be awhile.” John’s face was close now, a mischievous smile on his face as he held up Sherlock’s face to meet his.
“I suppose it may be by our standards. We’ll have to catch up.”
“Better not let it build.” John pressed his lips into Sherlock’s his tongue teasing the others before the detective pulled away.
“What about getting sick?”
“Antibodies.” Was John’s simple response before landing another firm kiss on Sherlock’s mouth. The detective relaxed into John and the doctor ended it with a gentle kiss on the cheek. Sherlock’s eyes grew heavy and he positioned himself more comfortably around John’s waist.
“John . . .”
“Yes, Sherlock?”
“I love you.” John smiled checking his watch. Ten minutes since the last declaration.
“I don care.”
Sherlock crawled over the bed sheets until he was straddling John’s hips. He pulled the pillow off his lover’s face. John’s cheeks were flush and his eyes were watery. If Sherlock didn’t know better he would label John aroused. But he knew better. He dropped his lips to John’s brow and felt the heat instantly. “You’re sick.”
“Says the guy straddling the sick guy.” John tried to joke his smile not reaching his eyes.
“I don’t have to go.” Sherlock was giving that look again. The one that said he ‘isn’t quite sure what the social norms called for in this situation and though he can’t rationalize a reason for staying, there may be some emotional one he wasn’t catching’.
“No, go.” John shoved the detective lightly in the chest. “You’ll be bored and annoying if you stay.”
“I won’t be that long.” Sherlock looked relieved but a little torn. John warmed a bit at that. “Should I bring back anything?”
“Mineral water if you think of it.”
“Alright.” Sherlock dropped a kiss on John’s lips. The doctor sputtered and pushed him off.
“You’re gonna get sick!”
“I never get sick.” Sherlock’s eyes were gleaming. “And I like to kiss you.”
“Well you won’t in a few hours when I’m tasting like something found in a back alley.”
“Then I better get them in now.” The detective caught John’s lips before he could protest landing a deep kiss before John kicked him off.
“Sherlock!”
“I’m going!” Sherlock shuffled to the door a grin plastered on his face. Then his face dropped in seriousness. “Text me if you need anything.” John nodded smiling. “Or call.”
“Call? I wouldn’t dream of it!”
“I’m serious.”
“I know.”
Sherlock’s grin returned as he pulled out his phone to text Lestrade. “This shouldn’t take long.”
“Love you too.” John offered to the retreating back before flopping back down on the bed and reaching out for the pillow.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Two things Sherlock noticed when he entered the apartment. It’s smelled like vomit and there were moans coming from the bedroom.
He ran up the steps, dropping the mineral water by their living room. John was twisted in the bedding, sweat dripping down his face and hands gripping the mattress. He was dreaming. Which was not surprising he often did when he was sick. His leg kicked out suddenly, smacking the wall painfully causing Sherlock to take action. He quickly jumped on the bed alongside John and wrapped his arms around him. John fought at first, panicking at the weight holding him down, until Sherlock began kissing his face. The detective watched his features smooth out from his position pressed to the doctor’s lips.
“You’re gonna get sick.” John said into his mouth, no energy to push him off again.
Sherlock smiled down at him, dropping one more kiss on his lips for good measure. “You don’t taste that bad.”
“I brushed my teeth.”
“Good.” Sherlock looked John over carefully from his position sitting on him. He was still flushed. Hotter than he had been that morning. He’d obviously been sick. “I got your water.”
“Thanks.” John eyes were nearly closed again.
“I’ll let you sleep then.”
“Ok.”
Sherlock left the room reluctantly. John had already drifted back to a restless sleep. He stepped over the water on the way to the couch and pulled open his lap top. A few minutes later John was shuffling down the stairs, their blanket wrapped around his shoulders. The man looked absolutely adorable when he was feeling absolutely terrible. It was an unfortunate thing really. Sherlock raised an eyebrow at his bundled companion but moved to the corner of the couch to make room for John to lie down.
“I figured I would be less likely to have nightmares.” Was John’s explanation before he nearly dropped onto the couch laying his head in Sherlock’s lap. Sherlock’s fingers automatically carded through his hair. His cool palms resting on john’s burning forehead and fingers massaging his scalp.
“Sherlock-“
“You love me. I know.” The detective smiled satisfied with himself.
“How did-“
“It’s about this far into a fever that you start professing your love for me every fifteen to twenty minutes.” Sherlock smiled at the glare from his companion. “Good thing for you I never had to care for you before we were together. You would have given yourself away an hour into your upset stomach.”
“Well you could have just let me say it.” John said drowsily, already falling asleep with Sherlock’s hand in his hair. He snaked an arm out of the blanket to wrap around the other man’s waist his eyes finally closing.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“I’m never kissing you again.”
“Is that so?” John didn’t look up from his paper but a smile spread across his face and he bit his lip to keep from laughing. “That’s unfortunate.”
“John . . . “
“I guess for your sake I will refrain from ever kissing you again.”
“JOHN” Sherlock whined from his position wrapped around John’s waist and the doctor put the paper away. The man was even more clingy when he was unwell and John had barely been able to separate himself to make a trip to the bathroom alone. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Tease.”
“Well Sherlock I always took you as someone who says what they mean.”
“Rubbish. I’m a liar.”
“Is that so?”
“I plan on kissing you again as soon as I can sit up properly.”
“Well that may be awhile.” John’s face was close now, a mischievous smile on his face as he held up Sherlock’s face to meet his.
“I suppose it may be by our standards. We’ll have to catch up.”
“Better not let it build.” John pressed his lips into Sherlock’s his tongue teasing the others before the detective pulled away.
“What about getting sick?”
“Antibodies.” Was John’s simple response before landing another firm kiss on Sherlock’s mouth. The detective relaxed into John and the doctor ended it with a gentle kiss on the cheek. Sherlock’s eyes grew heavy and he positioned himself more comfortably around John’s waist.
“John . . .”
“Yes, Sherlock?”
“I love you.” John smiled checking his watch. Ten minutes since the last declaration.