This is my first fanfic im publishing ever! ^^
Also English is not my native language so please be nice to me, though i appreciate reviews.
I'm currently working on the second chapter as well, enjoy!
John sat in his armchair with his head resting on his arm, flickering through the channels with the remote in his other hand.
He sighed loudly and considered shutting the telly off and just going to bed but quickly dismissed the idea.
Sherlock had rushed away on a case alone, when John had insisted on going along with him, as he always did. Sherlock had denied him and told him that he simply didn't need his assistance.
But John was worried, Sherlock always let him come on the cases and this one had seemed so terribly interesting.
That was seven hours ago. And the clock was silently ticking away. John frowned when he glanced at the clock for what seemed like the hundredth time. It was quarter past four in the morning and John was feeling himself slipping away into sleep. But he forced himself to stay awake watching terrible reruns on telly, but so far it wasn't working well. The reruns only seemed to make him more tired and not make him stay awake.
He walked into the kitchen and poured water into the kettle flickering it on and reached for a mug in the upper cupboards.
Suddenly he heard a door slamming open and stairs slowly being stepped upon. It wasn't the usual fast paced steps, these were slow and even stopped occasionally. John turned around slowly and walked to the door pushing it open.
The steps went quiet.
Sherlock stood on the stairs leaning against the wall and the left part of his face was covered in blood and soaked by the rain. His breathing was heavy,ragged and it took a noticeably moment longer than usual for him to sense that John was there. And when he did, he froze looking up at John with fear in his eyes.
John looked at his flatmate in shock. ''Sherlock.'' He said quietly.
Sherlock swallowed. ''John.'' He replied in a hoarse tone.
It was almost as if someone flipped on a switch and then John was in doctor mode quickly running to his flatmate hesitating only a moment before he threw his arm over shoulder and helped him into the flat.
He dragged Sherlock into the kitchen and almost pushed him into the chair.
''Wait here.'' He said while he quickly ran into the bathroom to grab the first aid kit.
John walked in to said bathroom and grabbed the first aid kit and when he returned head was hanging down over his chest.
Shit he had dozed off, not good, not good at all.
Panicking, John ran to his friend and put the first aid kit on the table, nearly making it fall off the table in the process.
Placing his hands on shoulders and shaking him.
''Sherlock, Sherlock you have to wake up .. shit'' Sherlocks eyelids flickered and he looked confused. ''How did i get here?'' He asked trough his clattering teeth.
John froze. ''You .. don't remember?''
After a moment of silence Sherlock shook his head slowly.
''Well shit, just .. just stay still you have a wound over your left eyebrow .. does it hurt anywhere else?'' He quickly asked him.
Sherlock gulped. ''My right foot hurts and my head is throbbing.'' He managed to say. ''Also id .. like some water.''
John nodded and walked over to the sink and filled a glass with water, handing it over to Sherlock who swept it all in one go. Coughing slightly when he sat the glass on the table behind him.
John opened the first aid kit he found a rag which he used to wipe all the blood away from Sherlock face. It looked terrible really, much worse than it really was. Sherlock hissed when the rag passed over his eyebrow and he shot an angry glance at John. ''Sorry.'' John muttered back. John only then realized that Sherlock most be freezing, looking down at his jumper he saw it was soaked as well as the detective. He hastily walked into the bathroom again without a word and grabbed some towels.
When he returned Sherlock was looking at him with a drowsy smile across his lips.
''Right so .. do you need help?'' He met eyes again and cleared his throat. ''With the coat i mean you might catch a cold.''
Sherlock threw him a distant look and nodded, muttering something John couldn't quite catch.
John hesitated a bit before he reached over and helped Sherlock with his coat. He reached for the towel and looked at Sherlock for approval.
Sherlock sighed and rolled his eyes before he nodded again.
John smiled slightly and dried the detectives hair making it stand in various directions, he looked even madder than usual. ''You'll probably need to take a shower though, hairs all soaked in blood.'' John said with a sad smile and he suddenly felt sick at his words.
Continuing he went over to the first aid kit again and soaked a cotton ball in antiseptic.
''Well this might sting a little .. but you already know that.'' Sherlock only stared at him in response.
''Really John, not some antic china doll who breaks at the slightest touch.'' Sherlock stared irritatingly into Johns eyes and the sudden intense eye contact made John shiver slightly.
John leaned closer to Sherlock so he could tend to the gash. He pressed the cotton ball slightly harder than necessary to it just to get his point across.
Sherlock immediately pulled back and put one of his arms in front of him defensively, hissing at the same time.
Sherlock looked at John like he was thinking about the best place to dump Johns corpse, or something along those lines. At least that was what John though the look meant.
Sherlock surprisingly leaned into John again. ''Just get on with it.'' He hissed out. John shrugged and quickly cleaned the gash putting some medical tape over it as well, it didn't need stitches.
''So um, you go take a shower but don't lock the door, you might have a concussion.'' Sherlock stood up slowly, wincing slightly and limped his way over the bathroom muttering something indistinctly.
John raised an eyebrow but quickly cleaned up and went to bedroom and put his neatly folded on the bed, that was the least he could do for his friend.
Suddenly he a loud thump from downstairs. ''No.'' He whispered as he ran fast down the stairs, nearly tripping over his own feet. He ran to the bathroom door. Knocking.
''Sherlock, Sherlock are you okay?''
He waited a few minutes and no sound was heard from inside.
''Sherlock? .. I'm coming in okay?'' He reached for the handle, hesitating for just a moment, he turned it and opened slowly.
Sherlock had passed out next to the toilet, clearly he had tried to reach for it probably feeling sick. Concussion it was then. But no, Sherlock was lying, on the ground.
John could hear the warning bells ring loud in his head, waking him up from whatever trance he was in. Walking into the bathroom and over to Sherlock.
John looked at him in fear, pulling him up so his back was supported against the wall. ''Sherlock, Sherlock can you hear me?''
Sherlock only grunted and moaned in response. ''Sherlock!'' John was shaking him. And with a gasp Sherlock opened his eyes. His eyes searching the room frantically.
''Sherlock listen to me, do you know why you're here?''
eyes stopped searching the room abruptly and his eyes landed on Johns eyes, his breathing slowly calming down.
''Yes you .. you told me to take a shower because there was blood in my hair.'' He replied quietly.
John smiled in relief, it wasn't as bad as he thought. Thank the gods.
''Yes, yes i did.'' John said smiling slightly.
Sherlock looked at john with a confused look and tipped his head a bit to the side.
''Well then, should i help you to your bedroom?'' John said in an uncertain tone.
Sherlock took a hold of the sink and pushed himself up. ''Yes that .. would be helpful thank you.'' He said the last part just loud enough for John to hear.
John pulled Sherlock in and hang his arm around his hip supporting him , he bit his lip when he felt the skin to skin contact blushing slightly. To be honest it felt kind of good to be close to Sherlock like this. His curls occasionally brushed against Johns ear and made him feel all woozy. Also he couldn't stop thinking about how Sherlock was only dressed in a towel around his waist and he could feel himself blushing, god he must look like a tomato. But he pushed those thoughts away best he could, it was not proper thinking like that while helping your injured flatmate.
He walked Sherlock to his room and retrieved his hand when he neared the bed. ''Oh right i left your on the bed ill just..'' John said fast walking out of the room and into the kitchen.
God what was wrong with him. Here your flatmate is injured and all you can think about is .. John felt his cheeks burn bright red and he gripped harder onto the chair his knuckles turned white.
''Im not gay.'' He repeated like a mantra in his head. Taking in deep breaths.
John sighed and looked at his watch and dragged his hand over his face as he discovered that it was exactly 5 am. If he was going to get any sleep at all he better go sleep now.
John was just about to turn around and go upstairs when he heard a cough behind him. John turned around. Sherlock was leaning against the door frame, holding himself up. He was wearing his.
''John could you get a bucket still feeling a bit sick'' Sherlock bit his lip. His face was pale, paler than usual that is.
Johns tired eyes fixed on Sherlock and he nodded tiredly. Walking into the bathroom again, taking the first aid kit with him to store away.
He ignored old clothes on the ground, too tired to care. He put the first aid kit in its place again and opened the cupboard and finding the bucket.
Yawning he closed the cupboard and walked into room. Sherlock was lying in his bed again, good. But his eyes were open fixed on John. John put the basket next to the bed.
He walked into the kitchen again and brought a glass of water for him as well.
Yawning again John looked at Sherlock with dozed eyes. God he was so tired, it felt like he could fall asleep just standing here.
''Anything'' He was interrupted by his own yawn again. ''Else?''
Sherlock squinted at John. ''Yes.'' Sherlock said in a tone darker than his usual voice, his tired voice. John blushed again, god that voice.
''What?'' John was glad that it was dark in the room, Sherlock would probably deduce him to pieces.
''Sleep here.''
John froze. The man couldn't be serious right? Well they had shared a bed before, but back then they had been forced too.
Was John over-analyzing everything? But god he was too tired to care. And bed looked so ridiculously comfortable right now.
''Alright but why?''
Sherlock squinted at John again. ''You're almost sleeping standing up, i have an concussion and you're only going to stay awake and worry anyway, so conclusion, sleep here.''
John was too tired to argue with anything or anyone. He cleared his throat. ''Right em, fine.'' John sighed and headed up to his room again, no way he was going to sleep in boxers.
When he had changed he brushed his teeth and went down the stairs again. It felt a bit weird. ''Im going to sleep with Sherlock. Just sleep. Nothing else. Sleep and im absolutely not gay'' he thought and clasped his left hand and swallowed.
He walked into room again. eyes almost shone in the dark reflecting the moonlight that seeped through the shutters.
John walked over to the other side of the bed ignoring the feel of gaze on him. It almost felt like it was burning his skin.
John slipped under the covers. Sherlock yawned and turned around facing John.
John looked at him, still feeling very tense and a bit uncomfortable. But at least he was not doing that intense staring anymore. Just a pair of sleepy eyes looking at him in the dark.
John sighed and closed his eyes. Trying to concentrate on how nice the bed felt and ignoring that he was in fact, sharing bed with his flatmate. And enjoying it.
When he could feel sleep slowly dragging him in, he also felt a hand clasp around his wrist. Sherlocks hand.
''Thank you.'' It was barely a whisper, but John heard it. And a warm smile spread across his face. touch burned into his skin spreading a sensation across his arm. It made him feel content.
''Please, don't let go.'' He silently begged in his mind
''Please.''
He could feel Sherlocks grip getting looser as he as well got dragged into sleep.
But Sherlock didn't let go.