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
( ... )
"Why not? Why not?" John sounded incredulous as he finally sat up, pulling his jumper off of Sherlock and pulling it on with awkward movements, effectively ruining the warm mood they had established. "For one, I like sleeping on my own. Two, a man needs his privacy. Three, should I ever bring someone home, I'd like to be able to bring her to my room and my bed, not having to explain why my flatmate sleeps next to me when he has a bedroom and bed of his own. Four, it's just plain odd, and five--"
He couldn't come up with a fifth reason, but he thought the four reasons he had given were perfectly sound.
Five, you'd know how often my nightmares still haunt me, and I don't want you to see me weak like that. Six, I'd get used to you sleeping next to me far too quickly, and miss you too much when you were gone. Seven--Huffing out an annoyed breath, he got up from the couch. God, but his clothes were all wrinkled. He looked around the living room, disoriented and out of balance. He looked at Sherlock, not feeling entirely ready. "Two
( ... )
Sherlock frowned at John's reaction, certainly not expecting his question to be met with such a violent shift in temperament. He slumped against the couch when John jumped up, pushing himself sitting slowly and hugging his legs to his chest to offset the chill of John suddenly leaving. He kept his wan expression for the entirety of John's rant, steadfastly ignoring the pang of emotion at how John was severing any possible ties Sherlock had to their shared experience. He would never tell him that this was the longest he'd been in physical contact without cringing away for his entire life, unwilling to accept that anything involving this experience was tied to any real feelings
( ... )
Sherlock purposefully played even louder when he heard John speaking again, petulantly determined not to let him get the last word in. The composing hadn't started quite yet, Sherlock being too caught up in drowning out John as much as possible with wailing, atonal notes unfit for any composition no matter how eccentric the composer
( ... )
All showered and dressed in clean clothes, John made his way back to the living room, his heart feeling like a stone inside his chest. He had showered for a long time, which was certainly not his habit; John was an effective sort of man. Not that morning. He felt like every movement was heavier, every step, every thought. He was not surprised to find Sherlock thoroughly occupied with something in the living room. For a moment, he considered saying something, trying to apologize again, but knew it would fall on deaf man's ears. He hesitated even so before he turned and grabbed his coat. He needed air. He needed space. He needed to not be confronted with the icy chill that had settled over their home, where such warmth had been when they had first woken up together
( ... )
Sherlock caught all the subtleties that most people would miss, recognizing the way John lingered in the shower and in doorways like he wanted to say something. He'd said enough already, Sherlock thought bitterly, cursing himself for being so foolish in thinking that they could hold on to the beatific atmosphere of that morning forever
( ... )
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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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He couldn't come up with a fifth reason, but he thought the four reasons he had given were perfectly sound.
Five, you'd know how often my nightmares still haunt me, and I don't want you to see me weak like that. Six, I'd get used to you sleeping next to me far too quickly, and miss you too much when you were gone. Seven--Huffing out an annoyed breath, he got up from the couch. God, but his clothes were all wrinkled. He looked around the living room, disoriented and out of balance. He looked at Sherlock, not feeling entirely ready. "Two ( ... )
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