John walked into 221b loaded down with bags from Tesco. Once at the top of the stairs he maneuvered into the kitchen, successful dodging many experiments that were strewn across the floor. He muttered to himself has he stowed away the groceries, once again avoiding the spills and the broken glass. He'd have to clean it all up eventually, however he wasn't quite looking forward to it. The whole experiment had a faint scent of rotten eggs and urine. Upon opening the fridge to put away the milk he was greeted by not one, but two severed heads.
"Jesus," John muttered as he slammed the door close, "Sherlock! I thought we agreed to no seve—" He had walked into the sitting room to find Sherlock sprawled out on the couch gently snoring. All anger seeped out of him at the sight of the world's only consulting detective taking a kip on the sofa. Sherlock's legs were curled up, his knees not quite on the sofa, while one hand rested on the his stomach and the other was curled around a manila folders that contained evidence from a cold case. John took the folder and set it on the coffee table. He disappeared upstairs and brought back a blanket from his bed. He draped it over Sherlock's sleeping figure making sure to cover his naked feet. As he turned to leave, Sherlock's pale hand shot out from under the blanket and wrapped around John's wrist. "Stay," he mumbled, looking up at John with bloodshot eyes.
"Sherlock, go back to sleep," John tried to tug his hand away but Sherlock only tightened his grasp, "I have a date tonight."
Sherlock didn't let go.
"Oh fine, just for a bit," Sherlock scooted over allowing John to settle at the end of the couch with the detective's feet on his lap. John turned on the telly and tuned into the local news as the program went on he traced his fingers along Sherlock's ankles and calves until the man was lulled back to sleep. Sherlock's slow breathing eventually put John to sleep.
When he woke up again it was three in the morning and he'd somehow managed to end up spooning Sherlock. His arm was slung over Sherlock's waist and his legs were tangled with the taller man's. He thought about quietly extracting himself but he could hear the gentle breathing of his friend and he could feel the soft tickle of Sherlock's curls on his face. The spot was warm and safe and he'd forgotten about his date but he didn't really mind. He pulled himself a bit closer and fell back asleep.
When he woke up for work the next morning, the couch was empty except for himself. The only evidence that Sherlock had truly slept on the couch with John was his lingering smell. John stretched and sighed as reached to the coffee table where his phone sat.
12 Unread Messages.
All from his date. John groaned and made a mental note to kill Sherlock. That note was quickly deleted when he walked into the kitchen to find a travel mug containing tea with handwritten note next to it.
"Corner of Eastcastle & Winsley St. Murder. -SH"
John smiled and went to the bathroom to get ready for another day with Sherlock Holmes.