Chapter Text
1.
John awoke on the sofa with his head in Sherlock’s lap, Sherlock’s hand stroking gently through his hair, and absolutely no idea how he had gotten there. It had been a long case stretching on for days with no solution in sight. John had only managed a few hours of sleep here and there and he doubted that Sherlock had slept at all. Getting back to 221B was a blur and John, for the life of him, could not recall how he ended here exactly with his head in his flatmate’s lap though he had to admit the stroking was nice. John turned his head slightly to look up at Sherlock, and the look of raw, undisguised affection on Sherlock’s face took John’s breath away. He was used to seeing Sherlock happy about a case or pleased with himself over an experiment well done. He was even used to the way that he, himself, could make Sherlock smile whether with a well timed piece of praise or jokes over post-case takeout. This, however, this was utterly new. John had never before seen this sort of fondness on Sherlock’s face especially not mixed with such peace and contentment. It was short lived, however, and as soon as Sherlock noticed him looking, his expression blanked and his hand stilled and he murmured something that might have been an apology. John, who was, at best, half awake, settled back down onto Sherlock’s, now tense, thighs.
“Don’t stop” John grumbled. And when the stroking did not resume “Sherlock, please.” John heard a sharp intake of breath, but he felt Sherlock’s hand return to his hair, and Sherlock’s gentle touch lured him off to sleep.
When John awoke again it was morning, and Sherlock’s hand lay flat across his face. John removed it and sat up slowly. Sherlock was asleep head lolling against the back of the sofa in a way that would inevitably mean he would be whinging about a sore neck for days. John contemplated for a minute just carrying him, but decided his shoulder was not up to the task, so he slung an arm around Sherlock’s back and pulled him to his feet. Sherlock, who had barely woken up, made a grumbling noise of protest and let his head fall onto of John’s as John maneuvered him to his bedroom. It took some effort, and at least one close call in which they both nearly fell, but John laid Sherlock down on his bed. Sherlock was still fully dressed from the previous day, and John didn’t think it was necessarily a good idea to let him sleep in one of his overpriced suits, but there was nothing for it, and besides, John wasn’t sure what Sherlock wore under those suits (if anything), and did not think Sherlock would appreciate waking up to find that someone had undressed him. Instead, John removed Sherlock’s shoes and pulled a blanket over him. Sherlock looked so peaceful sleeping there, it made John’s heart swell with love. Hardly realizing he was doing it, John leant down and smoothed back Sherlock’s fringe to place a light kiss on his forehead. He stood up quickly somewhat taken aback by his own nerve, and left the room quietly to go about his morning routine.
It was early afternoon when John started hearing the signs that Sherlock had woken up. John could easily imagine him shuffling blearily around his room. Sherlock was never alert for at least an hour after he had woken up; it was part of the reason he hated sleeping on cases so much. The shower clicked on, and John smiled and returned to his book. Not ten minutes later, the bathroom door burst open, and Sherlock, soaking wet, and naked as the day he was born, burst into the room. His eyes immediately locked on to John sitting calmly in his own chair. John regarded him calmly careful not to break eye contact. This was hardly the first time he’d seen his flatmate naked, after all, pants were optional to a man who had no qualms about sitting in Buckingham palace wearing only a bed sheet, so John wasn’t fazed by Sherlock’s nudity. Sherlock’s wide eyed stare continued on for several long moments passed acceptably uncomfortable.
“You left the shower on” John said finally. “You’ll run out of hot water pretty soon.” This seemed to jolt Sherlock out of his trance and he gave a brisk nod and then disappeared back into the bathroom leaving a trail of water as he went.