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“I missed you,” Sherlock whispers softly as soon as William pulls open the door, returning from his nightly bathroom visit.
“It’s barely been a minute.” And yet, hearing this makes William almost desperate to get back to him, too. “Besides, shouldn’t you be asleep?”
Sherlock certainly was asleep when he left just now.
“Can’t sleep without ya.”
The words are said with such vigor there is no doubt they’re only partly meant as a joke. William would know; he is no different.
“You’re exaggerating,” he teases regardless. “You used to be able to sleep without me just fine.”
Gentle yet eager hands guide him back into bed and under the delightfully warm blanket, and when strong arms wrap around his torso, pulling him close as he snuggles up against a warm chest, he is home.
“Maybe that’s true…” Sherlock muses. “I guess I could… but I really don’t wanna.”
As if to emphasize his statement, he places a peck on top of William’s head, then buries his face in his hair, inhaling deeply.
Already drifting off, so warm and content and besotted he could cry for happiness, William can only agree.
He doesn’t want to miss any of this, either.