John's hand briefly stilled on Sherlock's cheek at the other's unexpected words. At length, he exhaled, slowly, feeling quite emotional all of a sudden. Trust Sherlock to bring him off his balance even in sleep. No, him staying made no sense. But leaving was not an option, would never be an option. He would not know what to do with himself. It was pathetic, really, how much he leaned on Sherlock's presence in his life; and terrifying to think how quickly that had come to pass
( ... )
"Oh, for crying out--" John threw his hands up in exasperation, frowning down at the presumably grown man he was having this ridiculously immature argument with. Something, however, in that little word, that 'stay', made John pause a moment. It wasn't vulnerable, exactly, the way it was said, but it was... a request of sorts. Turning it down did not feel good. Just the thought of it made John feel like he was about to kick a puppy.
Huffing irritably, John shifted again, but this time with a different end goal in mind. "Alright, fine, just--- make some room, this is going to be cramped and uncomfortable and I honestly don't know why this would please you so much--"
Muttering on, John moved about awkwardly and slowly, sliding down next to Sherlock on the sofa. The only way this was going to work was if he placed one of his legs between both of Sherlock's, or the other way around, and have either Sherlock half-rest on him, or he would have to half-lie on Sherlock. It was a puzzle of limbs, to be certain.
Sherlock kept his eyes squeezed shut stubbornly, as though he could keep John there by force of will alone. He smirked when John huffed in that way that signaled his giving in, shifting a bit as directed to let John readjust accordingly.
He just hummed in response to John's complaints, waiting until John was laying parallel to him before wrapping his arms around him and pressing in close the better to leech his warmth. He nudged his leg between John's the better to keep him right there, nuzzling his face into his shirt and sighing contentedly at how much warmer and more comfortable this was.
"See, it's fine." he said softly, needing to remind him that he was right even as he closed his eyes again in the attempt to fall back to sleep.
John froze up a little when Sherlock's arms came up around him, but seeing and feeling the utter contentment of the other man was highly infectious. Truth was... This was rather nice. Not the comfiest manner of sleeping, and he knew his neck was going to kill him in the morning... But it was nice all the same. Warm. Comforting.
"I suppose it is sort of nice," he murmured tiredly, his eyes slipping shut. "You're still an incorrigible git."
If Sherlock had a reply ready for that, John did not hear it. Sleep took him as soon as he closed his eyes. The last he consciously registered were Sherlock's soft breaths huffed out against his chest. Warm. Comforting.
Sherlock just nodded a bit to John's sentiment, settling after that into the perfect warmth of John's body next to his. He made a soft sound that almost sounded agreeable when John called him a git, unable to be bothered to give a coherent response when he was so warm and sleepy. The both of them stilled, and Sherlock slept hard and dreamless from that moment on
( ... )
It was another half hour at least before John began to enter that realm between dreaming and waking himself, and he too felt extremely reluctant to venture back into reality. Distantly, he realized he was holding someone and being held by that person in return. Sherlock--? Yes. Had to be. Couldn't be anyone else. Struggling to stay in that hazy place of perfect tranquility, John nuzzled closer to the other man, sighing contentedly. This felt nice. Really nice. It had been forever since he'd woken up next to someone, and John had quite forgotten what a wonderful feeling it could be.
Shifting slightly, John sleepily turned his head enough to press a soft kiss to Sherlock's hair. "Morning," he murmured, voice soft and rough with sleep, keeping his eyes closed.
Feeling John stir next to him, Sherlock smiled to himself at the way John seemed to instinctively move in closer. Human contact had never been an area of interest for Sherlock, but he found he had rather enjoyed sleeping next to John. He knew that happiness of John's probably wasn't meant for him, he probably hadn't even recognized yet that he was next to Sherlock rather than one of his girlfriends. He was certain of it when that kiss was pressed to his head, working up to telling John that he was lying next to his very much male flatmate instead of the woman he obviously assumed he was with.
"Good morning." he finally said, just waiting for John to leap up and assure him he wasn't gay for the thousandth time and reprimand him for talking him in to sleeping on the couch with him. Still, he would enjoy whatever small moments he got before that happened, keeping still and quiet and just enjoying these last few seconds that he could listen to John's heart and feel his warmth as he was.
A few moments of silence passed. Then there was a definite shift in the air as John went from hazy bliss to something closer to wakefulness. He frowned, but refused to open his eyes just yet. He was still lying on the couch. With Sherlock. No, no, holding Sherlock, in a very intimate fashion. He had slept with Sherlock in his arms. For a brief moment, he wanted to laugh. Then the mental image of Mrs Hudson walking in on them like this had him actually shaking with laughter, hiding his face in Sherlock's dark curls.
"But darling," he wheezed, still struggling not to laugh out loud. "What will the neighbors say?" Oh, he had no idea what had gotten into him. Perhaps lack of proper sleep was finally getting to him. He held Sherlock a little tighter, before he finally dissolved into actual giggles of exhausted hilarity, laughing at the absurdity of the current situation.
Sherlock nudged his face into John's shirt, determined to hang on to this as long as he possibly could before they'd have to get up. He didn't understand this feeling at all, having never craved physical contact until getting his first experience of it. Now it was like an addiction, John's warm presence against him so much more welcome than he would have thought.
His brow furrowed in confusion when John shook a bit next to him, his words making him smirk a bit when his reaction was more favorable than he thought. He glanced up at John's face when he started laughing, his happiness having the curious effect on him of making him happy too. His face broke into a full on grin, pressing his face against John's shoulder and shaking with laughter right along with him. "They already had their suspicions, I'm sure." he managed to say, still chuckling softly and leaning into him, pleased that John's reaction to this was far better than he thought.
"People always do." Oh, but John loved these moments, where the pair of them could just let go of everything and simply be with each other. He laughed for a little while longer, finding it difficult to stop, especially when Sherlock was chuckling so delightfully, with that low voice of his that always made John feel warm all over.
"Did you get any sleep?" John eventually asked, disinclined to get up just yet. His body told him it was early in the morning. No reason to get up, really. He shifted a little to get more comfortable, making sure Sherlock was still tucked in under his jumper. There was a bit of a chill in the air; wouldn't do to have the world's only consulting detective catch a cold.
Sherlock basked in this moment while it lasted, always enjoying moments like these where they were both relaxed and enjoying each other's company. He certainly hadn't expected John to react so favorably to waking up next to him, but he appreciated it all the same. He laughed right along with John for a few moments, eyes briefly flashing with something akin to adoration.
"Yes. More than usual, anyway." Normally he was up and about after only a few hours, but this time he slept on for several, almost as much as an average person did. Something about the warmth and security of being nestled between John and the sofa made it impossible to want to get up, even now that he was awake. He smiled gently when John made sure he was covered by his jumper, not worrying too much about the chill himself when John proved to be a more than suitable blanket.
"I'd like your assistance for an experiment." he said suddenly, glancing up from his place tucked under John's chin.
John was happy to hear Sherlock had slept well; he worried about the other man near constantly, couldn't help himself in doing so. Sherlock's sense of self-preservation was to cry over, it was so low on the list of priorities. He understood that genius required a certain degree of focus, but honestly, a hot meal and good night's sleep were just as essential. John did what he could in taking care of Sherlock's well-being, but he could not look after him 24/7.
"What kind of experiment?" John blinked and frowned down at Sherlock, a trace of suspicion in his voice. Sherlock's experiments were wonky enough to begin with; requiring John's assistance... Well. It set off a few alarm bells, to say the least.
Sherlock shook his head dismissively at the look John gave him, knowing already he was probably expecting the worst.
"It's nothing objectionable. I want to study my sleep patterns. All you need to do is sleep with me in my bed, and then allow me to sleep in yours with you." he explained, sure that John wouldn't be too averse to it when they'd already spent the night on the couch together.
"I slept deeper and for longer here on the couch than usual, I want to see how well I sleep in each of our beds with you in them now."
John was silent for a moment, blinking owlishly. He distantly realized his facial expression must look quite odd. He felt... sort of blank, and it took him several moments to really wrap his head around what Sherlock had just suggested.
"You think having me sleep next to you will improve your sleeping patterns? I'll admit, they're abysmal right now, but, uh..." he said, slowly, looking thoughtful.
Truthfully, he didn't know how he felt about this. Sherlock in his bed? Him in Sherlock's bed? It seemed so... intimate. Mind, sleeping this closely together on the couch could just as well be considered intimate, if not more so. They were tangled together, for goodness sake.
"I... Hrm. I suppose, if it's an experiment... We could give it a go. Two nights, though. Two. Once in my bed, once in yours
( ... )
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John made to get up, only to find a barrier in the shape of one very tall consulting detective in his way once more. He sighed softly in frustration.
"Sherlock. Get off my lap. Please, I'm really very tired."
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"No." he added in a distinctly child-like tone of tired crankiness, squeezing him tighter when he made to get up.
"Stay." He didn't know why it was so important that John not leave, but in this moment, it seemed to be all that mattered.
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Huffing irritably, John shifted again, but this time with a different end goal in mind. "Alright, fine, just--- make some room, this is going to be cramped and uncomfortable and I honestly don't know why this would please you so much--"
Muttering on, John moved about awkwardly and slowly, sliding down next to Sherlock on the sofa. The only way this was going to work was if he placed one of his legs between both of Sherlock's, or the other way around, and have either Sherlock half-rest on him, or he would have to half-lie on Sherlock. It was a puzzle of limbs, to be certain.
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He just hummed in response to John's complaints, waiting until John was laying parallel to him before wrapping his arms around him and pressing in close the better to leech his warmth. He nudged his leg between John's the better to keep him right there, nuzzling his face into his shirt and sighing contentedly at how much warmer and more comfortable this was.
"See, it's fine." he said softly, needing to remind him that he was right even as he closed his eyes again in the attempt to fall back to sleep.
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"I suppose it is sort of nice," he murmured tiredly, his eyes slipping shut. "You're still an incorrigible git."
If Sherlock had a reply ready for that, John did not hear it. Sleep took him as soon as he closed his eyes. The last he consciously registered were Sherlock's soft breaths huffed out against his chest. Warm. Comforting.
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Shifting slightly, John sleepily turned his head enough to press a soft kiss to Sherlock's hair. "Morning," he murmured, voice soft and rough with sleep, keeping his eyes closed.
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"Good morning." he finally said, just waiting for John to leap up and assure him he wasn't gay for the thousandth time and reprimand him for talking him in to sleeping on the couch with him. Still, he would enjoy whatever small moments he got before that happened, keeping still and quiet and just enjoying these last few seconds that he could listen to John's heart and feel his warmth as he was.
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"But darling," he wheezed, still struggling not to laugh out loud. "What will the neighbors say?" Oh, he had no idea what had gotten into him. Perhaps lack of proper sleep was finally getting to him. He held Sherlock a little tighter, before he finally dissolved into actual giggles of exhausted hilarity, laughing at the absurdity of the current situation.
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His brow furrowed in confusion when John shook a bit next to him, his words making him smirk a bit when his reaction was more favorable than he thought. He glanced up at John's face when he started laughing, his happiness having the curious effect on him of making him happy too. His face broke into a full on grin, pressing his face against John's shoulder and shaking with laughter right along with him. "They already had their suspicions, I'm sure." he managed to say, still chuckling softly and leaning into him, pleased that John's reaction to this was far better than he thought.
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"Did you get any sleep?" John eventually asked, disinclined to get up just yet. His body told him it was early in the morning. No reason to get up, really. He shifted a little to get more comfortable, making sure Sherlock was still tucked in under his jumper. There was a bit of a chill in the air; wouldn't do to have the world's only consulting detective catch a cold.
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"Yes. More than usual, anyway." Normally he was up and about after only a few hours, but this time he slept on for several, almost as much as an average person did. Something about the warmth and security of being nestled between John and the sofa made it impossible to want to get up, even now that he was awake. He smiled gently when John made sure he was covered by his jumper, not worrying too much about the chill himself when John proved to be a more than suitable blanket.
"I'd like your assistance for an experiment." he said suddenly, glancing up from his place tucked under John's chin.
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"What kind of experiment?" John blinked and frowned down at Sherlock, a trace of suspicion in his voice. Sherlock's experiments were wonky enough to begin with; requiring John's assistance... Well. It set off a few alarm bells, to say the least.
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"It's nothing objectionable. I want to study my sleep patterns. All you need to do is sleep with me in my bed, and then allow me to sleep in yours with you." he explained, sure that John wouldn't be too averse to it when they'd already spent the night on the couch together.
"I slept deeper and for longer here on the couch than usual, I want to see how well I sleep in each of our beds with you in them now."
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"You think having me sleep next to you will improve your sleeping patterns? I'll admit, they're abysmal right now, but, uh..." he said, slowly, looking thoughtful.
Truthfully, he didn't know how he felt about this. Sherlock in his bed? Him in Sherlock's bed? It seemed so... intimate. Mind, sleeping this closely together on the couch could just as well be considered intimate, if not more so. They were tangled together, for goodness sake.
"I... Hrm. I suppose, if it's an experiment... We could give it a go. Two nights, though. Two. Once in my bed, once in yours ( ... )
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