Chapter Text
My Holmes is not an overtly affectionate man, except on lazy Sunday mornings when we allow ourselves to sleep a little longer and finally wake up (or rather, he does and ends up waking me up too) in the middle of the morning with an energy that doesn't seem appropriate for an age like ours.
It is endearing how all the tension disappears from his shoulders and he gives himself completely to pleasure, for no other reason than the simple enjoyment of love and the warmth proper to the caresses shared between two lovers. For a man who constantly teases the gentlest of emotions, I think he is actually a gentle person, because he wakes me up with kisses and I melt for his care, just like now.
"Are you awake already?" he murmured, spreading kisses down the back of my neck and hugging me around the waist, because this was his special way of waking me up on Sundays. (And any other morning where he didn't sneak out in the middle of the night).
"Maybe in a little while more." my voice still sounded strange and a little low from sleep but I didn't bother to clear my throat, as comfortable as I was. Instead, I curled up next to him to take one of the hand that clung to my waist and bring it to my chest, holding it gently but firmly, too. "What time is it, Holmes?"
"It's a little after seven."
"Let's stay until nine."
"Until eight o'clock."
"Why till eight?"
"Why till nine? Lazy."
"Because today is Sunday," I mumbled, no longer as sleepy as I was at first. "Annoying man."
"There's no rule against a man getting up early on Sundays, Watson."
Although his argument was (naturally) valid, I was not convinced. On the contrary I turned away, and his wonderful face, slightly aged by age, almost made me give up. Almost.
"Perhaps there is no written rule, but there is an unspoken agreement, Holmes. It is common knowledge that on Saturdays people go to bed early and get up late."
"Because of laziness?"
"Because they are sleepy!"
"Are you sleepy?"
I opened my mouth to close it like a fish. I was certainly more active than a chemical reaction, but that was because Holmes...
"You took away my sleep!" I protested, more amazed that I hadn't noticed his methods than annoyed that I was awake at seven o'clock on a Sunday morning. My reaction seemed to have amused him, because the corners of his eyes crinkled softly as he burst out laughing.
"Then let's get up at eight."
I was unable to protest, although to my good fortune between kisses and pillow talk we ended up getting out of bed at exactly ten o'clock.