Hi Guys! Sorry I didn't update yesterday, I haven't been home and and I just now convinvced my grandparents to let me grab my crappy computer so I could update…so I haven't mentioned that updates would be inconsistent. I should mention it. Updates will be inconsistent depending on how long it takes to get inspired (which is why y'all should PLEASE REVIEW! Reviews=faster updates.), and writing and getting it from paper to computer takes about an hour, so yeah. It has been mentioned.
Disclaimer: if I owned this, John would never have said "I'm not his date".
Hair (part John)
Sherlock and John were lying in bed after a particularly hard case, and it was getting to the point where the late hours of the night had long since slipped into the wee hours of the morning, and the hours were becoming not quite so 'wee' anymore.
John had fallen asleep a long time ago. His face was half pressed against a pillow, his nose poking out and his mouth wide open. His hair was messy, sticking up in all different directions.
Sherlock was wide awake, of course. He was curled up by John's side, one hand under his pillow, the other one gently stroking John's hair. He could not seem to stop.
The curtains were open, letting in the light of the moon. It seemed to illuminate his army doctor. He might not have been the most peaceful of sleepers; he was snoring softly and occasionally his fingers would twitch, but Sherlock thought the sight before him was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
And he could not stop touching his hair. He ran his fingers though it, spiked it up, smoothed it down, and played with various bits and pieces.
There was something about John that Sherlock deemed beautiful. Not cute or adorable, as the rest of the world labeled him, but extraordinarily gorgeous. John himself thought that he looked very average and mundane. Boring. No matter how many times Sherlock told him otherwise.
To Sherlock, John was anything but boring. He fit into who his features and who he was perfectly, and that itself made him beautiful in Sherlock's eyes.
He threaded his fingers through John's hair and tugged lightly, trying not to wake him up.
John's eyes fluttered open, revealing blue irises, deep as the sea, that made Sherlock's heart flutter.
"Sherlock," he slurred sleepily. "What'chu doin'?
Sherlock smiled, leaned up, and kissed John's forehead softly. "Nothing, love. Go back to sleep."
John scooted closer to Sherlock, pressing his face into his chest and locking his arms around his middle. He grinned softly as Sherlock smoothed his hair down-again. "Stop it."
Sherlock didn't even skip a beat with his drawling "No."
John just chuckled and murmured a simple 'Okay'.
He fell asleep like that soon after, still hugging Sherlock close. And Sherlock kept playing with his hair, because his doctor was beautiful.
Okay I did not intend for it to turn out like this. Eh, I blame Gatiss. The next one is going to be like this one, with like a tie in with 'Tea'. Again, all Gatiss' fault.
Au revoir, little biscuits, until next time! (which should be in about an hour. Yes, I should be working on homework, but that's just so dull.) I'm expecting reviews from all my readers! (yes, Chris, this means you too.)
