Work Text:
Sherlock had a cold.
The man despised being sick. It made his brain slower and less effective at solving cases.
He walked towards the door, hoodie pulled over his head to hide his red, sniffly nose.
"Where you going mate?" John asked from the couch.
Fuck. Sherlock hadn't noticed him. Stupid sick brain.
"Just... just going to see Lastrad. She has a case for me." Sherlock replied, hearing the sick in his voice.
John got up from his spot on the couch, walking over to Sherlock. He grabbed the taller man's shoulders, turning him to face him.
"Mate," John sighed, pressing a hand to Sherlock's forehead. "You're sick. You're staying home, no buts, except yours on the couch."
Normally, Sherlock would argue, but he was too tired to bother.
Sherlock sulked of to the couch, curling up in the corner with his weighted blanket.
"Want tea?" John asked, walking to Sherlock and ruffling his curly hair.
"With marshmallows..." Sherlock mumbled, nuzzling into the blanket.
John chuckled. "Of course, you little weirdo." John teased, going into the kitchen and returning with the tea.
"I've said it once, and I'll say it again. There are people in London how'd have you hung, drawn, and quatered for what you've done to a good cup of tea." John said, handing the mug to Sherlock.
Sherlock rolls his eyes and continued to drink his tea.
“I would have been fine to go out.” Sherlock grumbled.
"You have a cold, mate." John sighed. "You need rest, Sher."
Sherlock finished his tea, setting the cup down onto the coffee table.
He nuzzled into John, hiding his face in John’s shoulder.
"You’re warm…" Sherlock mumbled. "Can you stay here? Just till I fall asleep."
"Of course, mate." John smiled, pulling Sherlock closer.
"Can we also watch a documentary?"
"Sure," John replied, grabbing the tv remote. "What do you want to watch?"
"More Then Honey."
"The bee documentary? Again?"
"I like bees."
John laughed, putting on the documentary. "Okay, mate."
Sherlock snuggled more into John, happily watching the documentary.
John had to admit the documentary was good, mainly because of all the beautiful cinematography. He’d grown to enjoy movies more after starting Sherlock&Co. It made him appreciate all the work that simply goes into the audio. He couldn’t imagine having to edit and film all the actual video.
Sherlock yawned, nuzzling into John.
"You a sleepy boy, mate?" John teased.
"No…" Sherlock mumbled sleepily.
John started to run his hand through the taller man’s hair, kissing the top of his head softly. "Sure, mate." John chuckled as Sherlock slumped against his chest.
Soon, Archie joined Sherlock and John on the couch, curling up on Sherlock's lap.
The slobbering bulldog fell asleep on Sherlock's lap. John smiled at the sight and quickly snapped a photo and sent it to Mariana.
JW- Someone’s sick
MA- Lol
MA- So cuuute!
John placed his phone down, nuzzling into Sherlock's hair. He loved the taller man’s hair. Its deep black colour was so beautiful. Normally ,he only dated blonds, but he also normally only dated women. He wasn’t complaining, he loved Sherlock. He loved his so much. Sherlock was his light in the dark. Sherlock had pulled him from his deep depression after being honourably discharged after almost having his leg blown off in Ukraine. He made him smile again, and for that, he’d always love him. John felt his eyelids droop as sleep started to take him. "I love you, Sher…" John mumbled before falling asleep.
***Months later***
John felt terrible. His head was pounding and he felt cold, even under four blankets.
One of the people on that last case must have given him a cold. Either that or it was from Sherlock dragging him through the rain to chase a guy.
He should be editing. He should doing something. Anything.
But no, he was here, in his bed, too sick to move.
"John? Are you alright?" Sherlock said, peaking his head around door. "You look sick."
"No shit, Sherlock." John mumbled, hiding his head in his pillow. "Could you get me some tea? My throat hurts."
"Yes, I can do that." Sherlock replied, slinking behind the door. "I'll be right back."
John sat up on his bed, coughing slightly. He felt so gross.
Sherlock came back after a while,sitting on the end on the bed and handing John his tea. "Here." Sherlock said in his usual monotone. "For your throat."
John looked down into the cup, confused. "Mate, why did you put marshmallows in my tea?" He asked.
"You can't be sad when you have marshmallows." Sherlock replied. "It's good, trust me."
John rolled his eyes and took a sip. "Oh my God- this is actually good." John laughed into his cup. "Sherlock, for once your strange tast in food has actually mad something good."
John finished his cup, and opened his arms. "C'mere..." John mumbled. "I need boyfriend cuddles." Sherlock smiled softly and layed his head on John's chest, pulling some of the blankets over himself.
Sherlock was so warm. As warm as the tea he just drank.
John nuzzled his face into Sherlock's hair. "You're warm." John mumbled. "I need warm."
"I can get you a hot water bott-" Sherlock started before John interrupted.
"No. Just you is good."
Sherlock nuzzled into John's neck. "You're warm too." Sherlock said. "You need to see the doctor."
"I'm a doctor." John replied.
"A practising doctor."
Humfed, laying back on the bed. He shifted slightly to get more comfortable with Sherlock on his chest.
"... Fine..." John mumbled, nuzzling into Sherlock's hair.
Then, they slowly fell asleep together.