Chasing a criminal who got to escape them, Sherlock and John find themselves in what must be the coldest place in the world. Fluff!
"Come on, John. We'll freeze if we don't proceed."
"I know," John sighed. He rubbed a gloved hand over his eyes. The reflection of the endless white landscape was giving him a headache. He felt Sherlock's hand on his back, pushing him gently forward to make him move.
Ending up in what must be the coldest place in the world after almost three days without sleep was not exactly a pleasant experience, but even Sherlock had become a bit reasonable and understanding in these harsh circumstances. He kept supporting his friend in struggling against the paralyzing coldness. In fact, the detective was growing worried about John, who was obviously reaching his limits, although the army doctor seldom showed any weakness. At this rate, he estimated they would still have to walk for another hour through this desert of snow before they finally reached the world of the living – and with that, the warmth.
Slowly they were making their way through the cracking snow, raising their pace, until John stumbled and fell forward. Immediately Sherlock grabbed his arm to pull him up.
"I wish I could just lie here and sleep," John mumbled.
"You can't," Sherlock said firmly, putting John on his feet. The shorter man clutched at his arms, dizzy and too tired to stand.
"I wish I still had enough strength left to carry you on," Sherlock muttered to himself. He stood closer to John, holding him with one arm and rubbing the warmth back in John's body with his other hand.
"People would talk," John mumbled almost inaudibly with a small smile.
Sherlock chuckled. "We'll have to share body heat anyway."
By the time they reached the hotel, it seemed as if they had spent eternity in the snow. In their minds, London was a tropical warm resort where chasing criminals was just one of the recreational activities. John stood shivering in the hall while Sherlock checked them in. Not for the first time, the latter was glad he had developed the habit of ignoring his body's needs. Once he had been given the key of their room, he lead John to the lift. Right now, he could have directed him anywhere, as long as it was not to the deepfreeze outside.
Normally, John would have commented on the double bed and the fact they would be sleeping together, but this time he only looked at it longingly.
"You have to get out of these clothes and take a hot shower first," Sherlock said, following his gaze. "I'm sorry," he added.
For a moment, John gave him a faraway look, then started to fumble with the buttons of his coat with his frozen fingers.
"Allow me to help." Sherlock's long fingers joined his and eventually he could strip him of his coat, jumper and thermal shirt. Too tired to feel embarrassed whatsoever, John got himself out of his pants.
Sherlock accompanied him to the shower and made sure the water was hot enough, so John would not burn himself, before leading him under the stream. The blond man just closed his eyes and stood there, holding the wall for support, while his body slowly collected heat again.
Meanwhile, Sherlock got rid of his own clothes, only feeling how his body was achingly frozen now he had made sure John would be warm again. He joined him and shuddered when the hot water touched his body.
"Thank you," John said, apparently waking up a bit now he was not freezing to death any more.
Sherlock gave him a small smile and slipped his arm around him. For a long time, they were standing in an embrace under the stream of hot water, warming each other. The tender touch of their skins was a welcome change after a day in the razor blade-like wind. Suddenly, John felt how Sherlock planted a kiss on top of his head and without thinking he looked up and reached for the other man's lips. After some time, it was Sherlock who broke their kiss. He looked a bit surprised, but not in the least in an unpleasant way.
"Are you warm enough yet?" he asked, smiling.
"I think so." At least the fond look he sent Sherlock was.
After this day of ice and exhaustion, neither of them had any interest in taking things further. They simply wanted to be comfortably warm and together.
They stepped out of the shower and Sherlock quickly whirled a long towel around his shoulders, before taking another and drying John off, then himself. John waited until Sherlock had also got on his pajamas and they got into the bed together. Without a moment of hesitation they crawled in each other's arms – after all, they had been very cold and it was only normal they wanted to keep each other warm tonight, wasn't it? Within a minute, the two men were asleep, without even bothering to turn off the light.
When John woke up the following morning, the wish he had thought impossible the previous day had come true; he felt warm and comfortable again. Sherlock was still asleep in his arms, in the same position. He put a soft kiss on his forehead. "Thank you for keeping me warm," he whispered, before shifting even a bit closer and closing his eyes again. Sherlock smiled in his sleep.
