"John, what are you doing?" Sherlock huffed, clearly getting frustrated.
"I'm sorry, lying like this is hurting my back and shoulder." He shuffled around again to relieve the pressure.
The detective looked across at his partner lying on the grass beside him in the darkness. He couldn't help but roll his eyes.
"This is supposed to be romantic. Molly said watching the stars is romantic."
John chuckled, "It is but I'm way too old and too injured to be lying on the cold, hard ground." He managed to scramble onto his feet, "Come on." He said, peering down at his partner.
"What do you suggest instead?" Sherlock asked as John grabbed his outstretched hand to pull him up.
John smiled, "Come on, there's bound to be a bench around here somewhere."
He pulled Sherlock up and together they ambled off into the night to find a bench so they could watch the stars.