Sherlock tapped his foot impatiently on the floor. John had been out shopping for hours now- honestly, how long did it take someone to go out for milk? He was so bored. Sherlock walked casually over to the TV and turned it on as the usual boring shows flashed upon the screen. He sat down with his knees up to his chin, his favourite position for thinking, and watched a random show about a time traveller going through time in what looked like a blue police box.
After about an hour, John came home. He walked up the stairs, struggling slightly under the weight of 3 heavy shopping bags, and opened the door to the flat.
"Sherlock?" He called, looking around for the detective. When he got no reply, he put down the bags on the table (well, the only area of the table that wasn't littered with Sherlock's weird 'experiments' as he called them) and went towards the couch. As he thought, his roommate was there, but he was sleeping soundly, curled up into a ball. John smiled a little, and picked the detective up, cradling his head so that it wouldn't sway about. He carried Sherlock to his bedroom and placed him on the bed, pulling the covers up over him.
John made sure that Sherlock was comfortable in the bed before leaving the room. He suddenly walked back into the room.
"I forgot something…" He smiled, and kissed Sherlock's forehead gently. "Sleep tight, Sherly.."