Chapter Text
Watson was very fond of Sherlock.
In fact, he is very fond right now right now, stroking his friend´s hair while he naps peacefully on the couch. All deep breaths and warmness and everything else that comes with it.
It wasn’t uncommon for them to express affection physically. At this point, at any given time of the day, it would happen. A tender pat on the head, on the back, on the shoulder. A hug, comfortable and warming and tight at all the right places and there, no matter what happens.
But even so, Watson can´t help but suppress the bright smile that pops up on his face for having all of this. Having someone to care for, that cares for him back. A friend. A partner.
‘It´s silly’, he thought. ‘It´s not that big of a deal’.
Sherlock shifted slightly, adjusting himself on the couch. His head snuggled closer to Watson, the tip of his nose touching his friend’s neck. He settled with a deep sigh. Watson’s caresses didn´t cease, now scratching Sherlock’s scalp softly with the tip of his fingers.
Sherlock was tired. They were done with a particularly intriguing case, involving two women, a farm, and human remains. Lots of them. And when his friend drifted to sleep next to him just after they came back home, Watson stayed there, phone in one hand and the other on Sherlock’s curls.
He thought about waking him up, whispering, telling him that it would be better for him to sleep on his own bed other than the couch. He also thought that they were both amazingly comfortable there, and settled to scrolling through X (sigh) while his friend slept soundly on his shoulder.
It was barely noon, even though it looked later. The windows of the flat were all closed, since it had been drizzling most of the morning. The sky was cloudy and dark, but there was no indication that the rain would grow heavier.
Archie was also sleeping, with the very tip of his tongue peeking out, softly snoring. Watson’s eyes were starting to feel heavy as well, his body fully relaxed with the lovely feeling of being home. He turned off his phone and slung an arm around Sherlock shoulders, bringing him closer while trying his best not to wake him up. Obviously, he failed.
Sherlock’s eyes fluttered open, and closed again while he swallowed, adapting himself back to being awake. “Mhm?” he asked.
“Mhm.” Watson answered, shifting to hide his face on Sherlock’s curls. “Go back to sleep, it’s still noon.” He whispered.
Sherlock mumbled something along the lines of ‘fine’ and hugged Watson by his waist with a single arm. Watson gazed at him fondly for a few seconds before covering them both with a small blanket laying around the couch. With the hand that wasn’t holding Sherlock close by his shoulders, he held his friend’s free one and sighed.
He could use a nap, too.