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"Of course I'm fine, I'm absolutely fine, why...wouldn't I...be fine." Sherlock turned and mumbled the last few words into the pillow.
"Yes you're great, I'll be right out here if you need me." John couldn't believe he was ditching another date to stay home and keep an eye on Sherlock. Although he supposed if he'd been drugged he'd appreciate someone staying to look after him.
"Why would I need you?" Again Sherlock's words were half mumbled into the pillow.
John sighed, no appreciation from Sherlock, there's a surprise. "No reason." He said closing the door.
Some time later John cracked open Sherlock's door, he was worried. He knew the drug should wear off without any long term affects but he also knew something of Sherlock's drug use history. That was something he needed to make sure wasn't repeated and who knew what this incident might do to him.
John peered in, the table lamp was still turned on, casting a faint glow over a small part of the room. Sherlock still appeared to be asleep, his back was turned to the door and all John could see from here was a riot of inky black curls.
John moved to the bed and looked down at his friend, Sherlock looked pale, paler than usual and John's concern increased fractionally. He reached out, laying the flat of his hand on Sherlock's forehead. He was cold, really cold. John frowned, they didn't have any sources of heat, like an electric blanket or even a hot water bottle. John supposed he could drag Sherlock out of bed and sit him down in front of the fire but he'd had enough trouble getting that tall lanky frame into bed earlier. Sherlock was surprisingly solid and much heavier than he looked.
"Damn it!" John kicked off his shoes, shucked his jumper, shirt and jeans, peeled off his socks and climbed into the bed in his tee shirt and boxers. He wriggled closer to Sherlock, who was still pretty much fully dressed and pressed up against his back. John could feel no warmth from the detective's body at all, he wrapped an arm around his chest, finding himself hoping that Mycroft's surveillance didn't stretch to his brother's bedroom, he really didn't want to have to explain why he was currently spooning Sherlock in Sherlock's bed. But god the man was cold.
Closing his eyes, John tried to relax and not think about where he was or what he was doing. This proved much harder than he'd expected. He couldn't help thinking about the form before him. He could feel the unexpectedly defined musculature of Sherlock's back and the memory of Sherlock in that sheet, at the palace, came back to the forefront of his mind. Those firm rounded buttocks were now basically in his lap.
John inhaled and tried to remind himself that he was in fact not gay but Sherlock's hair smelled way too good and then his own mind betrayed him by suggesting that he might in fact be bisexual.
It was at that exact moment that Sherlock stirred and shivered. He was suddenly aware of a body behind him and an arm wrapped around him. He stiffened, shocked at the unfamiliar closeness of another person but it was warm and comforting and he didn't need to turn to know who it was.
Reaching up Sherlock slid his hand over John's forearm and lacing his fingers through John's he drew the arm tighter around himself. There was a slight sound behind him, close to his ear, an indrawn breath and it was John's turn to stiffen in shock.
Sherlock could feel John's body slowly relaxing as his arm tightened around him, drawing him nearer.
They stayed like that, pressed against each other, holding each other for some time. Sherlock was gradually warming and John was gradually coming to terms with his new view of himself. After some time John could tell Sherlock was asleep, his breathing leveled and softened and John relaxed, drifting off to sleep soon after.
They awoke with the morning light bright on their faces. Sherlock was the first to stir, he turned to face John who slowly came to wakefulness.
The first thing John saw that morning were Sherlock's eyes, so close to him, so bright and surprisingly so welcome. He smiled and again much to his surprise Sherlock smiled back.
"Thank you John." The detective whispered.
"You can owe me." John reached up and mussed Sherlock's curls "You can come out with me, tonight."
"Are you asking me on a...date?" Sherlock asked with a slight grin.
"Yes I am."
"Then I happily accept."