Work Text:
Before Afganisthan, John was a good sleeper. He could sleep throught the night without moving a mustle, without noticing anything from the world around him. One night Harry could even steal his pillow and cover and John only woke up hours later, when he was freezing to his bones.
But since the war it all changed. He could easily wake up to the slightest noise, to the smallest flash of light, to… everything. So when he heard his door opening he sobered from his dream immediately.
˝Sherlock, what the…?˝ He glanced at the clock. ˝It’s 3 o’clock in the morning.˝
The detective didn’t answer, just walked to John’s bed, took off his coat and shoes, climbed into the bed, and slid under the cover. It took a few moments for John to find his voice.
˝What the hell are you doing?˝ As he finished the sentence he could feel the bed is shaking under them. He turned around and felt that Sherlock was trembling immensely, he could also hear his teeth chattering. John felt something incredible cold.
˝Is that your hand?˝ He grabbed Sherlock’s hands, holding both in his’, and started warming them up.
˝How on Earth could you get this cold?˝ He panted on Sherlock’s hand.
A few minutes later the trembling lowered and the frozen hands were started to be able to move. Sherlock took them out from John’s hands and pulled him closer. John was surprised to feel those extremely cold lips on his.
˝Thank you.˝ said Sherlock after they parted.
˝You’re welcome!˝ answered the dizzy doctor with a huge grin on his face. After a few minutes lying next to each other, the bed stopped shaking and John could hear Sherlock’s breath deepened and lowered. He squirmed himself to a resting position and pulled the detective closer, took his arm around him and finally felt asleep.