It had taken several weeks for Sherlock to become comfortable enough to allow John into his bed at night. It wasn't that he was afraid of John asking for too much or that he was a prude, he just wasn't used to the physical aspects of a romantic relationship. Now that they had spent several nights together, Sherlock rather liked sharing his bed with John. In fact, he looked forward to it and on those days when John worked overtime at the hospital, he found himself craving it.
Today was one of those days. The detective sat in his chair with John's computer open on his lap, his silver eyes constantly darting between the screen and the front door. It was half past seven and John had called earlier to say he would be home by eight. Unable to focus on his work, Sherlock finally closed the laptop and set it aside. He drummed his fingers impatiently on the armrest for a moment before getting to his feet and stretching.
Maybe he'll want tea before bed. Sherlock wandered into the kitchen and began preparing the kettle. Oh, and I'll wear those pajamas he bought me. Having rinsed and re-filled the kettle, Sherlock turned on the stove and placed it on the burner. He then hurried to his bedroom where he changed into the deep purple pajamas John had given him the day before. They were made of silk and fit the detective rather nicely. Sherlock studied himself in the mirror for a moment before gathering his discarded clothing and placing them in the hamper by his dresser. The hamper was also a gift from John. The doctor didn't much like it when Sherlock left his laundry all over the room and though he had complained a bit at first, Sherlock had been making an effort to use the hamper.
Sherlock scanned the room for anything he may have missed and noticed the bed looked rather messy. He quickly dashed down the hall to the closet where they kept clean linens and returned with an armful of fresh sheets. He stripped the bed and began making it. Part way through replacing the comforter, the shrill cry of the kettle filled the flat and Sherlock was forced to abandon his work. As he stepped into the hallway, the screaming was suddenly cut off and he wrinkled his forehead in dismay.
"Sherlock?" The dark-haired man smiled at the sound of John's voice and he darted into the living room. He stood in the doorway to the kitchen, eagerly watching as John poured hot water into the teapot and dropped a teabag in after it. He set aside the kettle and faced Sherlock, his navy eyes slightly dulled from his long day at the hospital. "There you are. Forgot you were making tea, eh?"
"Oh, um. I was making the uh, bed." The tips of Sherlock's ears reddened as he stumbled over his words. "I'm wearing the pajamas you got me, they fit nicely." John smiled and approached the detective, reaching out and lightly gripping the sides of Sherlock's pajama shirt. He pulled him close and stared into his silver eyes.
"You look lovely in them," he murmured, running his hands over the material. Sherlock grinned and put his lips to John's forehead, kissing him briefly.
"Thank you."
"Shall we head to bed then? I'm beat," John said, letting go of Sherlock's shirt and taking a small step back. Sherlock felt a wave of panic rush through him as he lost contact with the other man. "Oh, wait. Your tea." John turned toward the counter where he had left the teapot.
"It wasn't for me. I thought maybe you would want some," Sherlock explained, inching his way closer to the doctor, reaching timidly for his hand. He felt suddenly very relieved as he took hold of John's hand and the other man looked briefly at their hands before smiling at Sherlock once again.
"Thank you, but I'd rather go to bed. I can heat some up in the morning."
"Okay. I wasn't finished making the bed though."
"Don't worry, I don't mind helping."
Taking the lead, John headed toward Sherlock's bedroom, his hand still securely enveloped in the detective's. They finished making the bed before John stepped into the bathroom to change and brush his teeth. Sherlock stuffed the dirty sheets into the hamper and crawled into bed, curling up with his back to the wall.
"I'm glad I got you that hamper, it's nice not tripping over your clothes in the dark." The room was suddenly plunged into darkness as John turned off the light. Sherlock chuckled quietly and turned his face towards the sound of John approaching the bed. "And I'm even happier that I got you those pajamas. Did I mention they look lovely on you?"
"You may have." Sherlock shifted slightly, opening his arms to allow John to tuck himself into the curve of his body. He buried his nose into the man's dark blonde hair, breathing in the familiar scent of John's shampoo.
"Well you look wonderful in them." John rolled over to face Sherlock. He gripped the front of Sherlock's shirt lightly and stared at him through the dark. "How was your day?"
"Boring. All Lestrade had to offer me was the disappearance of a few homeless men. How was yours?"
"Tiring. I missed you."
"I missed you too."
"Really?"
"Of course." John pulled Sherlock closer and their lips met in a soft kiss that ended with them both smiling. "I don't think you should go in tomorrow." John laughed and held the man a little tighter, resting his cheek against his neck.
"And why's that?"
"Something bad might happen." Sherlock began running his fingers up and down the length of John's spine, feeling the small bumps of his vertebrae.
"What could possibly happen at the hospital?"
"Well, you might get a new nurse that's secretly an escaped convict. Or perhaps there will be a new disease."
"I think I may have to risk it." John kissed Sherlock's throat and snuggled closer to him.
"Hm, well what if it starts to rain on your way there and you forget your umbrella? You'll catch a cold and I'll have to take care of you."
"I'll take my umbrella then, just in case."
"What if you can't find it?"
"I'm sure I can."
"What if it's broken?" John turned his face up towards Sherlock's, his navy eyes gleaming in the dark. The detective was grinning slightly and John frowned.
"Are you threatening to harm my umbrella?"
"Maybe."
"If I stay home tomorrow, will my umbrella be safe?"
"For the time being."
"The things I do for you." Sherlock stopped stroking the man's back and wrapped his arms tightly around him. He kissed the top of John's head and smiled into his hair, feeling very relieved that he wouldn't have to spend the day alone tomorrow.
"I love you," Sherlock whispered as he finally began to relax.
"I love you too."