Slowly I can feel my brain coming back from a blissful sleep, the sensation of the sheet contoured to my body being the first thing to register. Next was John's hand, brushing against my temple as I lay facing him. He was playing with my hair and getting it out of my face. My eyes fluttered and focused on John, propping himself on his elbow and stroking my hair, with soft eyes that promised me the world and his entire face radiating joy.
"Hello love," he said softly. "You look so beautiful." I felt a blush come to color my cheeks and I scooted forward to bury my face in his chest. "You always think that," I say, voice rough from sleep and brain still not at full capacity. "That's because you always are," he replies simply, wrapping his arms around me and rubbing my scapulae. "Utterly gorgeous you are. Gorgeous and perfect." "I'm not perfect John," I whisper.
"But you're perfect for me. Everything I could ever want." I fail to completely relax against him, and brilliant John knows my body language so well he knows I don't understand without seeing my face. "You make me feel alive, Sherlock. I've never felt so alive as when I'm with you. And it's not just the cases, it's you. I can get adrenaline anywhere, but I need you. And you need me, which is fantastic for me because that means I get to spend time with the most brilliant, amazing, hilarious, gorgeous, kind-hearted man I know." He presses a kiss into my curls before turning his mouth into them and murmuring, "You're the love of my life. I've never loved anyone like I love you."
I tilt my head up and separate my lips slightly for a kiss and John complies, reaching down to pull me up a bit and settling his hands so they frame my face and jaw. I look at him and smile, letting my shields fall so he can see into my pale eyes. Whatever he sees causes him to close his eyes and softly press his smiling lips to mine. I watch him as he kisses me chastely, eyes closed and content as could be, as if all he wanted to do for the rest of his days was brush his lips to mine.
He breathes, "You're watching me again, aren't you?" "Yes." "And how do I look?" "Like my John." He chuckles and he looks so adorable I roll over him with my hands on either side of his head, legs on either side of his thighs and gaze at my John as he lays content under me. His eyes open and his smile grows as he looks at me. He reaches up and wraps his arms around my ribs. I lower myself so we are pressed together chest to knee. "Lift your head," I say and he does so. He loves this almost as much as I do. I wrap my arms around his head and he leans back down on his new pillow. Having his head in my arms is almost as overwhelming as the first time, knowing that my John trusts me to not do any number of things to hurt or kill him I could easily do to him like this.
He rubs soothingly up and down my spine and I lower my head and raise my arms slightly, bringing John's face to mine. My eyes close and I kiss John Watson with singular devotion, feeling his hands move to my scapula and the back of my head. He twines dark curls around his fingers and as I break our kiss I look into his eyes and confide, "You're the love of my life too. The only love I've ever had."
He gives me a grin that could melt iron and whispers while drawing my face to his again, "Happy one month Sherlock." "Best month of my life," I answer and return to kiss John's lips, eyelids, cheeks, forehead, and nose. We have the whole day, after all.