A/N: Again this is something I put on tumblr last night which got a good response. It was a request from a RP partner of mine who's heart I broke because my Sherlock got bored of her John, so I wrote this to try and make up for it. Love you, Jawn! Please R&R, it's not often I write pointless fluff xD

In sickness

He had been sick in the night, he was pale and feverish, yet stubborn. "Sherlock, stop fussing," John complained, pausing to get through a coughing fit before continuing, "I'll be fine, I have to go to work. There are bills that need paying."

Sherlock simply pushed him back onto the bed, forcing his head back against the pillow, "You're not going anywhere today, John Watson," he told him. "You're ill and you're a Doctor, you should know when it is necessary to work and when to rest."

"Sherlock."

"I'll lock the bedroom door," Sherlock told him.

"Now you're just being stupid."

Sherlock glared, "I'll tie you up if I have to."

John couldn't help but laugh slightly then, but it was a weak sound. Whatever bug or whatever it was he had caught it was nasty. He knew Sherlock was right even if he didn't want to admit to it. His head was pounding and the whole room was spinning. Honestly he probably wouldn't have even made it into work.

"Now, you lay down, I'm going to get you some painkillers and make you a cup of tea," Sherlock told him. To John's panicked expression, he added quickly, in a somewhat defensive, offended tone, "I won't poison you."

"Better not," John muttered and curled up on the bed. Sherlock pulled the duvet over him and left him there.

By the time Sherlock returned just a few minutes later John had fallen into a soft sleep. Sherlock smiled quietly, he couldn't bring himself to wake him, at least asleep John looked somewhat peaceful, he was blissfully unaware of the temporary hell his body was going through. He set the tea and tablets down on the bedside cabinet and climbed into bed next to John, wrapping his arms around him protectively. That's how he felt. Protective. John meant so much to him and he wasn't sure he could ever express that properly. He didn't have the words. He barely understood it himself, there was no way he could explain it to John.

John cuddled into him for a few moments before stirring, "Sh'rlock?" he muttered.

Sherlock smiled, "Who else would it be?"

John shrugged slightly and moved to sit up, "turn the light off," he said, his voice still a quiet mutter, his hand over his eyes to shield them. Sherlock was off the bed and at the lightswitch in a matter of seconds.

The room became darker, but enough light came through the curtains for them to be able to see but for John's head to not be too badly effected. Sherlock climbed back into the bed and helped John take the painkillers, before simply taking John into his arms and holding him there.

"I hate being ill," John whispered.

"I don't think you're supposed to enjoy it," Sherlock told him, kissing his cheek.

John laughed slightly, but there was no conviction behind it, "Surprised you're here."

"Why?" Sherlock asked, genuinely shocked.

"Thought looking after me'd be a bit boring for you," John explained, "Don't you have a case?"

"It can wait…" Sherlock replied. His work was important but John more so.

"I love you, Sherlock," John whispered, as though it was a new secret he was scared to admit and not something they now said regularly. The tone scared Sherlock, there was something about it which suggested John was uncertain of the response it would get.

"I love you too, John, with all my heart," Sherlock was nervous again, just like the first time he said it. Did adding 'with all my heart' make it sound fake or forced? Because it wasn't, he truly meant it.

John shook his head, "You'll get bored of me, I'm too… ordinary… One day you'll want something more."

"No!" Sherlock insisted. "Never. John, I love you. You. I could never get bored of you. Ordinary? God, John, you're an idiot sometimes, there is nothing ordinary about you."

John didn't reply.

"John?"

Still nothing.

"John say something?"

Sherlock looked at him this time when there was no response and realised he had fallen asleep. He couldn't help but smile, John was adorable in his sleep. Sherlock kissed his forehead and settled down next to him. He'd explain later, when John wasn't tired, wasn't ill. He'd make sure John understood.