John cracked sleepy eyes open, pawing at the other side of the bed, slightly surprised to find that it was empty. He sat up and looked at the small digital alarm clock on the side table, it was barely five am. He groaned, flinging his feet over to the side and standing up on the strangely cold carpet. He wrapped one of Sherlock's dressing gowns around himself, and shuffled sleepily out the door.
He rubbed his eyes, shielding them from the harsh artificial light which drenched the living room and kitchen, "Sher," he mumbled sleepily, looking warily at the figure hunched over the dining room table as he took a few steps towards it, "You gotta go to bed, baby, it's five in the morning," he continued, resting a light hand on Sherlock's shoulder.
Sherlock looked up at him with tired eyes, dismissing him with a light wave of the hand, "I'm almost done, John," he replied, returning his attention back to the few articles of evidence that lay on the table.
"Ah, no," John said firmly, taking the other's hand and guiding him upwards, "You've been up for an entire day, a whole twenty-four hours, we're going to bed." Sherlock sighed as he placed the microscope slide back onto the table and let himself be led back into the bedroom, seeing the logic and knowing that there was no use arguing with a sleepy John.
They stepped through the door, which was already ajar, and John climbed back into the messy bed as Sherlock flopped onto his side of the mattress. John wiggled back under the bedspread and the detective did the same, inching closer to the doctor as he did so. A light vibration came from the night stand, a new text, the case was developing, "Sherlock, leave it. It can wait," John said as he felt Sherlock shift to check the message, squirming his back into Sherlock's front.
Sherlock sighed, wrapping his arm around John's chest and drawing him in closer, breathing in hair on the top of his companion's head. He rubbed comforting circles into the chest, letting his hand wander downwards and place a few fingers into the waistband of his pajamas near the hip, drawing little circles again in a comforting gesture, not a crude or lust-filled one. John sighed contentedly in Sherlock's arms, snuggling into his front and the pillow beneath his head, easily being lulled to sleep.
Sherlock smiled lightly, kissing the top of John's head as he snaked his other hand out from under him and replied to the message, talking to the detective inspector on the other line about the case as John slept peacefully and deeply against him.