It was entirely Sherlock's fault. He had taken the case, chased down the suspect, and then jumped off the boat into the Thames. All against John's advice. But of course, Sherlock never listened, and John wasn't at all surprised when around two in the morning his already congested-sounding pillow started coughing terribly.

He was surprised however, at how cuddly Sherlock got when he was sick. They were sitting together on the sofa watching Toy Story – Sherlock's favourite film, John had just learned not to ask any questions - when the detective began to shift into John's lap. Soon enough, John was covered in six feet and one inch of his consulting detective boyfriend. He looked down at him, smiling lovingly and carding his fingers through Sherlock's inky curls, sighing.

"I love you," he whispered, still smiling.

Sherlock hummed happily and snuggled in closer to John's chest. "Lub you, doo, Johd," he mumbled, stuffy nose and all.