John pulled a fleecy jumper over his head. It was fluffy and warm, and once Sherlock told him that it made him look like a hedgehog. It was John's favorite jumper. He walked out into the sitting room to see Sherlock wrapped in a dressing gown (and probably nothing else) and sprawled out on the sofa. He smiled. The usually isolated and cold man looked so snuggly. And John intended to snuggle him. The had nowhere else to be, and the sky was blanketed in thin grey clouds. Perfect snuggling conditions. He toed off his shoes and climbed on the couch, curling up just behind Sherlock's right shoulder. Sherlock suddenly mewed out a little noise of confusion, and proceeded to fall off the end of the sofa. John peered over the edge, to see Sherlock's glaring expression. It slowly softened into a little smirk.
"What?" John pouted.
"You've got a bit of pudge around your belly," the detective admitted, barely containing a fit of giggles.
John was appalled. Of course he was a little chubby! He was also a war hero, but nobody seemed to care about that. He felt sarcasm start to seep into his voice.
"Well excuse me, if I'm not as thin as you, "Mr. Digesting slows me down".
The taller man lifted himself off the floor, still smiling. John stood up too, just so that Sherlock wouldn't look so large.
John was about to storm off to his room, but Sherlock stretched out his arms and wrapped them around John's middle, pulling the little doctor back against his chest.
"Don't worry," Sherlock said softly. He bent down a bit and planted a tender kiss on the side of John's forehead.
" You're more snuggly like this."
