April Ficlet: Bangkok (Sherlock)
Thailand was too hot, the monkeys kept trying to steal his things, and he had a sunburn.
He lay in bed and tried to remember the rain hitting the windows at Baker Street, the way John would rotate his shoulder more on damp days, the biting cold against his face as they ran through the streets in winter... the cool breeze off the sea when the furthest he ever thought to go was Sussex.
He wondered what John was doing right then. If he was lying in a cold bed, huddled under blankets, while Sherlock lay on top of the sheets, trying to hide from the noon-day sun, with his body coated in aloe.
A gecko crawled up the wall. Sherlock sighed.
He very much wanted to go home.