John awoke from his slumber. His left hand gripping the bed sheets tightly; his right hand clenched firmly around Sherlock's arm.

He grumbled.

"Gosh, I was wondering when you would loosen your grip."

John blinked. He could now see that he was on top of Sherlock. Sherlock's free hand stroking the back of John's head. Comforting him. A thin sheet lay between their naked bodies. John had stolen most of the blankets and could see Sherlock's leg sticking out from the covers.

"Oh, sorry. I suppose I should stop crushing you too then…"

This came out quite hesitantly. John was embarrassed for his positioning. He was usually far more composed than this around Sherlock. But at the same time, he really didn't want to separate himself.

"No, stay." Pleaded Sherlock, changing to a lighter tone, "You're the only blanket I have available."

Sherlock chuckled softly at the deep blush creeping across John's face as he reached for his cigarette.

"You know I don't like it when you smoke in bed. It bothers be quite a bit to find ashes between the sheets…"

"Mmm, well, you see John, you don't know how much I love to bother you."

Sherlock locked eyes with John, bringing the cigarette to his lips. Not once did he blink while he inhaled, the tip of the cigarette glowing a brighter red. As he pulled the cigarette away, a smirk crept upon his face as he exhaled.

John could bear no more. Ripping the cigarette from Sherlock's fingers and putting it out in the ashtray.

"Hey! That was a fresh one!"

Sherlock was ticked. He grabbed onto John's arms, and tried to flip him beneath, pinning him down.

"Well that's what you deserve when you get me so bothered."

John gained control of Sherlock's limbs, pinning his arms and legs down. Sherlock struggled with John's strength, trying to let himself free. He finally surrendered, panting and gasping for air.

"Alright! I just… I just enjoy you when so bothered… That's all… Just a joke."

A similar smirk arose across John's face.

"Well it's a good thing for you that I'm absolutely bothered right now."

Sherlock went to respond, but was cut off by John's lips pressing firmly against his own. Soon John's hands released Sherlock, traveling to his hair, exploring the contours of his body. Tangling themselves between the sheets, wrestling with their tongues, until they lay back exhausted.

Sherlock grabbed a hold of John's hand, intertwining their fingers.

"You know, I ought to smoke in bed more often."

John drew his eyes from their hands, meeting the sarcastic smirk. He sighed, rolling his eyes he pulled Sherlock into a spoon and they dozed back to sleep together.