It had been a slow week and Sherlock hadn't been given a case. So as usual, he sat on the couch, wrapped around his blue night-gown staring right at the ceiling. "Sherlock." John said calmly, but Sherlock wasn't listening (or didn't want to). "Sherlock!" John's voice was more demanding this time. Sherlock still laid there though, looking blankly at the ceiling, "I have no intention of answering, so you might as well tell me what it is you are asking." John sighed, and made his way from the kitchen to the living room. He sat down at his arm chair, staring at Sherlock. "Six days. Six days Sherlock." Sherlock turned his head, barely enough to see John from where he was laying. Raising a brow Sherlock didn't say a word and let John keep talking. "You haven't done anything aside from drinking tea, wondering the flat, and yell at me, for seven blood awful days!." Sherlock did a small, "Hmm." but showed no sign of caring. Then he went back to looking at the ceiling. "Damn it Sherlock! You need to be taking better care of yourself!" John sat up and stood over Sherlock, "You make me worry too damn much." John said this more softly, but he still sounded very furious. Sherlock just looked away from John,still not caring all too much of what John had just said. Sighing once again, John left Sherlock alone and walked into the kitchen. After a few minutes John came back into the living room, with a tray. "In case you get hungry." John said smoothly, still staring at Sherlock with a worried look. "Fine." He said blankly while still not look at John. "I'll be up stairs if you need me." "Why would I need you?" "No reason, what so ever." With that said, John walked away and made his way up the stairs.
Sherlock sat up when John was finally out of sight, and grabbed the fork on the tray and started to pick at his food. Giving a small pouting look, he glanced at the stairs then back at his food. "Does he really think.." Looking at his food, he sighed. John's way too caring for his own good. Might as well eat it before it gets cold. Dragging the fork to the plate, he yanked a piece of the pasta onto it and into his mouth. Sherlock almost smiled, but he forced it down. All he ever does is take care of me, and I.. "I treat John like he's nothing." It hurt him to say that, but it was too true. Before finishing his dish, he took a drink of his tea (John had also made this.) and walked to the stairs. He slowly walked up the stairs and headed towards Johns' room. Murmuring something to himself, he opened the door, seeing a sleeping John Watson. He was sprawled out all over his bed, even with some paper work still on it. He must of stayed up all those nights with me to make sure I was okay. Slowly walking over to the sleeping man, Sherlock sat on the bed. And Sherlock started to chuckle, he looks a lot like a kitten. He was about to get up when strong arms found their way around his waist. It startled him at first (almost making him fall actually), but he just sat back down on the bed. Nuzzling his nose into Sherlocks sides, John was smiling. "John get up." He said softly, but it didn't help. He wanted to wake John up so he could get out of this uncomfortable situation, but he also didn't want to wake him up. That's when it hit Sherlock, he cared for John, and John cared for him.
So, Sherlock just laid next to John (took some time trying to get in a comfortable potion without trying to wake John up though), and fell asleep as well.
John had waken up after an hour-power nap, and was startled to see a sleeping Sherlock next to him. But what also shocked him, was his own arms wrapped around the taller man. Shrugging, he went back to laying next to Sherlock. But before he went back to sleep, he planted a small kiss on his lips. John went back to resting his head on Sherlocks chest, who was now smiling. "'Night John." Sherlocks eyes were still shut but he was chuckling and smiling. Bloody devil. "Good night, you twat."
(A/N)- What couple should I do next, with John in it of course. ;) (I whore John Watson a lot, you know.)