Sherlock had fallen asleep on the way back to Baker Street. The gentle motion of the cab had lulled the detective into a deep sleep. John smiled tenderly at his sleeping boyfriend. The dark soft curls had fallen in front of his eyes and he looked at peace for the first time in weeks. They had just finished a terrible case. The murderer had taken his two children as hostages and Sherlock had raced against the clock to solve the case before they had been hurt. The case had taken its toll on everyone involved. Lestrade had slept at the Yard in his office for the entire time; subsequently his unstable marriage was crashing down around his head once more. Sherlock had just not slept at all for three days solid. He worked around the clock, either in the lab or running around London. Even John had struggled to find rest in between chasing round the city and working shifts at the surgery. He had hated every moment of his work shifts. His brain had barely been able to focus on the patients that walked into the room. The doctor's mind was busy worrying about the lost children and their murderous father. Luckily John had been able to force Sherlock to at least eat once or twice a day. It gave the detective just enough energy to complete the case before passing out in the taxi. John's eyes were struggling to stay open. He wanted nothing more than to cuddle up next to his sleeping boyfriend until they reached Baker Street. However, he knew he only had a few more minutes before they would reach their destination. So the blond fought the sleepy haze that threatened to overcome him, instead he watch the busy streets of the city fly past. He was thankful that they weren't driving at rush hour. It was always faster to walk in rush hour and neither of them had the energy. The traffic lights were green the whole way back. John suspected that Mycroft probably had something to do with that. Sherlock's brother knew how difficult and tiring the case had been for the Baker Street boys. John made a mental note to send a cake from the local bakery to the Diogenes Club. Someone had to thank the elder Holmes brother and Sherlock certainly wouldn't bother. Soon enough the black door of 221b Baker Street came into view and John nudged his sleeping boyfriend.

'Sherlock, come on. We're home.' He diligently paid the taxi driver and helped the taller man out of the cab. Sherlock was heavier than he looked but eventually John managed to climb the stairs with the half asleep detective. Once in the flat both men fell promptly onto the sofa. John rested his head on the back of the seat against the cushions. His detective boyfriend fell across the sofa with his feet dangling off one end and his head in John's lap. Instinctively John ran his hands through the ebony curls and Sherlock hummed at the sensation. This was John's favourite part of their work these days. When he'd first met Sherlock he'd revelled in the excitement and the pace he was living his life again. He'd finally felt alive as they ran full speed through the back streets of London and jumped across the rooftops. Obviously their work was exhausting but the adrenaline rush was always worth it.

Then by some miracle their easy friendship had evolved into something more. John had always wanted more with Sherlock but after their first 'married to my work' dinner together, the doctor had suppressed his feelings. He tried, in vain, not to hope. Then Sherlock had stumbled into the surgery whilst John was on shift, the detective had been close to bleeding out after a case went sour. John had already watched Sherlock 'die' once and the wave of emotions had completely overwhelmed him. He'd begged Sherlock not to die again and let slip that he loved him. Sherlock had passed out from the blood loss and taken to hospital. John hadn't left his bedside even when Mycroft had come to visit his brother and give John a rest from 'baby-sitting'.

When Sherlock had eventually woken eyes, he murmured 'Love you too' in his rich baritone voice. John had been convinced that he'd fallen asleep and dreamt the entire thing but once the detective had been released from hospital John quickly noticed the change in his behaviour. The casual lingering touches whenever Sherlock passed him something. Sherlock rarely threw items at John now. He preferred to pass it which allowed a small moment of affection even when they were on a case. Sherlock crept into John's bedroom now rather than sleep in his own bed. John loved waking up entangled in the lanky detective. Sherlock's scent now permeated his bed sheets so that even when he didn't sleep John could still smell him when he buried his face into the pillow on Sherlock's side of the bed. When they sat in the back of taxi's Sherlock now rested his hand on John's leg or fell asleep against his shoulder. When Sherlock looked over John's shoulder he now hugged his arms around John's neck. It wasn't a big changed in their relationship, more of an exaggeration of what was already there. John's behaviour changed accordingly. He would often entwined his fingers in the detectives hair or kiss his cheek when he handed over a cup of tea. They were small changes but it made both detective and doctor very happy and John could no longer imagine his life without the gestures of affection and the love in his life.

John was brought back to present day by the soft snores of the sleeping detective. John leaned down and kissed his boyfriend's silky locks. He knew they couldn't stay like this forever but he was content to enjoy the moment. They didn't get much chance to spend time like this during a case. It was sort of an unspoken rule of their relationship. During a case, work came first. John missed the evening cuddles and affectionate nudges but he understood. Especially on a case so emotionally draining as the one they'd just finished. The small boy and his sister had looked so frightened when they finally found them. The father had held his children captive in a basement and barely fed them enough to survive. The boy had dark curls just like Sherlock and for a moment John had pictured their lives with the sound of pattering feet. He wrapped his fingers round Sherlock's long slender ones and took a deep breath. The panic he had felt when he saw the monster lunge for the boy from the shadows with a knife. John hadn't even hesitated when he pulled the trigger. The poor kids would have been traumatised. He closed his eyes to try and prevent the headache that was coming on.

'John…' Sherlock's voice was soft and calming. It was a tone which he only used whilst talking to the doctor. 'Don't. You did the right thing. He would have killed them both.' Sherlock squeezed his hand. John looked down at the detective. Bright silver eyes were looking back up at him studiously. John knew that his boyfriend was cataloguing every expression that went over his face. He didn't mind though he knew that Sherlock couldn't just turn off his wonderful gift. In a flash Sherlock was sitting up next to John. The brunet's hand held John's face gently and John found himself hypnotised by the beautiful orbs opposite him. Without though, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against Sherlock's. His boyfriend's lips were slightly chapped; a sign of dehydration by Sherlock's self-neglect during the case. The two men were lost for a moment in the kiss before they had to pull back for air. John rested his forehead against his boyfriends.

'I love you' He whispered. It was not something they said often. Sherlock wasn't particularly fond of repeating himself but John knew that every so often even the 'heartless' detective liked to hear the words. Sherlock hummed in return and smile brightly. John felt his pulse race slightly. He was completely enamoured by his gorgeous flatmate. Even a simple smile could make his heart jump in his chest, although he would never admit it to his boyfriend. He'd be accused being overly sentimental. Sherlock kissed him again then got up to fetch the television remote. It had become almost a ritual to watch crappy television after a case. Apparently sleep deprivation didn't stop that. John couldn't help but admire his boyfriend's figure as he glided around the flat. He was slender but he was well toned and John had a rather splendid view of Sherlock's bottom. It was nice to be able to stare unashamedly. Sherlock whisked round to head back to the sofa and gave John a quick wink once he noticed his boyfriend's gaze. John chuckled and pulled the brunet back into a cuddle. Sherlock rested his head against John's chest and John continued to stroke the dark curls. It was calming for both of them. The detective flicked through the channels aimlessly.

'Nothing interesting on?' John slurred sleepily as he buried his face in his boyfriend hair. The scent of Sherlock's honey shampoo washed over John's senses. Sherlock claimed he used the shampoo because honey was naturally very good for hair. John knew this to be true but he also knew that Sherlock was very fond of bees and did everything he could to help preserve them; including using shampoo made from locally sourced honey. People thought that Sherlock was heartless. John scoffed at the thought. His boyfriend had the biggest heart out of everybody he knew. He was just afraid to show it. He kissed Sherlock's hair and smiled. He would never understand what the genius saw in him. He was unbelievably ordinary in comparison.

'Obviously…' Sherlock's rich voice drawled. 'I'm not watching it anyway.' John knew they should move upstairs to bed. They were both exhausted. It was evident in Sherlock's voice that he wouldn't be awake for much longer and John's eyes were struggling to stay open.

'Wanna go upstairs?' He suggested sleepily. He shouldn't really fall asleep on the sofa. His shoulder would not be so forgiving in the morning.

'No. Comfy.' Sherlock mumbled into his chest. John chuckled and lifted Sherlock into his arms.

'That's too bad because I really want to sleep in an actual bed. I've done my time of sleeping on floors and sofas' Sherlock groaned in protest but weaved his long arms round John's neck anyway.

'John…' He slurred in complaint. 'I was comfortable'

'You'll get comfortable again soon. Come on sleepy head.' John mustered up all his remaining energy and got them safely upstairs to his room. He gently put Sherlock down on the bed and threw a pair of pyjama bottoms at the detective.

'Piss off.' He heard his boyfriend mumbled from under the fabric. John laughed wearily and changed into his own nightclothes before slipping under the duvet next to Sherlock.

'Love you too.' He kissed Sherlock's cheek and the brunet swiftly moved so his head was once more resting on John's chest.

It wasn't long until the detective fell back asleep. This time John allowed sleep to come over him as he held his boyfriend. After all you don't get much chance to sleep with Sherlock Holmes as your boyfriend.