Cuddling Somewhere
About a week ago the heating in Sherlock's house went haywire. It didn't stop working completely, thank goodness, but it did stop in the one place it seemed to matter most, which at the moment was his bedroom. The winter and spring seemed to be at war with each other going between the temperatures of mildly chilly and freezing. He couldn't sleep with his skin constantly chilled and covered with goose bumps.
He could go to John's room, which had heat, but it also had John, which was a problem. However slowly Sherlock's doubts were overshadowed by his need for warmth and rest; he began to stumble down the hall to his friend's bedroom.
It was significantly hotter in here, the consulting detective realized, as he slipped in shutting the door silently behind him. He wasn't entirely sure if his face was so red that he was overheating or if the heat in this room was just as effective, probably both. The doctor appeared to be asleep with his back to Sherlock; the taller man tip toed over to the bed and gently laid down on it, because he absolutely would not sleep on the floor. He decided that he could rouse himself early and spare John and himself the awkwardness of having to share a bed.
He turned to face the sleeping male, who's back was still the only thing to gaze at. John Watson smelled amazing, Sherlock deduced embarrassed. He snuggled closer to his unaware friend and gingerly wrapped an arm around him. It must take an earthquake to wake John up he decided as he cuddled closer inhaling the other man's cologne. Sherlock settled into a peaceful slumber, completely unaware that Watson was awake the entire time.
Of course John had awoken when he heard the door shut, he had been in the military, which meant he had to be constantly alert. He knew it was Sherlock the moment he heard a the signature sigh of relief he gave off when doing something sneaky. He decided that if he pretended to be asleep maybe Holmes would leave him alone, after all, what the hell could he want at eleven p.m? He felt Holmes slip into bed next to him and take a deep breath in, not subtly at all. He stiffened as he was pulled closer by Sherlock's arms and he felt a head pressed into his shoulder blades. John blushed faintly but smirked, Sherlock was cuddling him. In the morning they would make no mention of this, but for the moment he decided to make the most of it. He shifted slowly and tangled his limbs around the detective's body, then drifted into a peaceful slumber, making sure that Sherlock would be stuck in his embrace until woke up the next morning.
Author's Note: I'm sorry, a lot of these stories are going to be super short, fluffy, and stupid.