John groaned as he pulled his luggage up the stairs, sweat beading down his back. The sky was dark and the stars had awoken, but the hot air of Brighton was still painfully humid.

Behind him, Sherlock had a large backpack on and was texting. They were here to check out a crime scene, one that had piqued Sherlock's interest enough to take a train all the way to the beach city. His thick coat and scarf were gone, replaced by a plain yellow t-shirt and a pair of denim shorts that he had borrowed from Mycroft.

John let out one final grunt as he pulled the luggage past the last step. The hotel had put them on the very top floor, and his leg felt like it was going to fall off.

"417." Sherlock pointed down the hall. "It's too late to go out but we can still order in room service."

John nodded, too tired to argue. Sherlock swiped the key card through the slot and stepped in the room. It was small, with a television and a desk. There was a bathroom on the right, and beyond the window was the most stunning view of the beach, the shoreline outlined by the night lights.

There was only one small problem, however, and that was the room only had one bed.

"It's okay, we can ask the front desk to bring one of those rolling beds." John reassured him. Sherlock didn't say anything, he merely unloaded his backpack and pulled out a black bag of toiletries and some pajamas.

"Er..." John cleared his throat. "Pizza okay?"

Sherlock gave a small nod and pulled out his phone to continue texting.

ooOoo

"It's the brother, obviously!" Sherlock shouted at the TV, mouth full with a slice of veggie pizza. The rolling bed hadn't arrived yet and Sherlock sat cross-legged on the bed, as John stepped out of the shower.

"What's this?" John asked.

"Some police show called...I don't remember. It had four letters in it but I deleted it." Sherlock replied, finishing the last of his meal and wiping his fingers on the napkin.

The telly cut to commercials, and Sherlock stood up. "I'm going to go shower now, and don't change the channel."

After a quick wash Sherlock came back into the room, those fluffy curls still slightly damp. John hung up from a call and turned to Sherlock, an exasperated expression on his face. "They're out of rolling beds. We'll have to share."

"Okay." Sherlock shrugged. He plugged in his phone and crawled in, pulling the covers over him as he joined John on the bed. It was a warm night, and the AC was blowing straight into John's face. He turned around and saw Sherlock's piercing blue eyes reflecting the moonlight, staring right back at him.

John drew in his breath. He had never been this close to his best friend before, but he didn't feel awkward. In fact, it felt like the most natural thing for him. He studied Sherlock's face, the dark locks framing his face, his pronounced cheekbones, and suddenly his stomach gave a small hop.

He had always considered himself straight, as he had many girlfriends in the past like Sarah and Jeanette. And yet, being with Sherlock like this still seemed...right.

"You're thinking." Sherlock's low baritone startled him. "What about?"

"Uh..." I think you look really, really good. "Just, um, we've never shared a bed before. Or been this close together...never mind."

The corner of Sherlock's mouth twitched, "Well, there's no harm in trying new things."

John chuckled and quickly turned around under the sheets. It wasn't wise to be thinking or voicing thoughts like this, after all, Sherlock was not interested in a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend. Or any relationships for that matter.

So it surprised him greatly when an arm was placed over his back, Sherlock's long, thin fingers hanging carelessly over his shoulder. John took his hand in his. He dimly registered Sherlock saying I love you, but he was already asleep.

The next morning, Sherlock was still holding John. But this time, John was also hugging him back.

"Sherlock?" John mumbled, pulling his arm back, "What time is it?"

Sherlock gave a small shrug, his eyes still closed.

"Were you telling me something last night?" John asked. "I thought I heard you muttering. Maybe it was just me." He shook his head. This time Sherlock opened his eyes and raised his head above his pillow by a bit.

"I did indeed, John Watson." Sherlock replied, John looking back up. "I said...I love you."

John was silent for a moment. Sherlock bit his lip, clearly unsure whether he should've proclaimed that or not. After an agonizing two seconds, John opened his mouth to speak.

"I love you too." John propped his head on his elbow as they both leaned in for a kiss.

Author Note:

This is my first Sherlock x John story. I've never actually shipped them myself, but I've read a lot of really well-written Johnlock fluff and thought I'd try my hand at it. If the ship ever became canon I feel they would be pretty cute together though. Fingers crossed for S5!

-Irene xx