Kiss Me
Author's Note: Just a little cute fluff piece. Enjoy!
My head lay on Sherlock's chest, listening to his light breathing and steady heartbeat. It was silent in the apartment, the only inhuman noise, the whirring fan beside us. Sherlock didn't usually sleep with the fan; I was the one who insisted on having the soothing sound of the inanimate object.
I glanced over at the clock on the nightstand and sighed softly, burying my face against his bare chest, and deeply inhaled his scent. He smelled, well… like Sherlock. The musky aroma of his cologne still clung to his skin, mixing with the subtle smell of aged parchment. It was a smell I had grown to love, and made Sherlock all the more unique to me, save for his other trademark abilities.
Today had been one of our good days. Or rather, a good day for Sherlock. He had solved over three cases and had been in an amiable mood because of the fact. And when he was happy, so was I. Sherlock had even made light conversation, something which surprised me and John. This was also the first time in a long time we had shared the same bed. He typically took the couch, or didn't sleep at all. I treasured whatever slivers of humanity he showed and made sure to take advantage of the rarity.
Sherlock stirred under me, snapping me out of my thoughts. He began mumbling incoherently, shifting more aggressively than before, leading me to think something was wrong. I picked my head up off his chest, and gently cradled his face with my hands.
"Sherlock?" I whispered quietly, trying to rouse him from the state he was in. He only groaned in response, as a troubled look crossed his features. His brows furrowed, his whole face clenching, in what I assumed was pain. "Sherlock, wake up." I tried once again to awaken the disturbed man, but to no avail. His hands clenched the bedsheet, knotting the fabric in his fists so tightly I thought he would rip them. I lightly shook Sherlock's shoulder, and glanced at the bedroom door, preparing to call out for John, who was stationed in the room next to ours.
All of a sudden, Sherlock shot up, causing me to jump back in fright. His blue eyes, now holding a wild look, flashed around the room, before settling on me. His chest rose and fell heavily, his breathing loud and labored. I stared at him for a second, contemplating on what to do. I had never seen Sherlock like this, so I was unsure how to respond. Luckily, and a bit astonishingly, he did it for me.
He grabbed my face and kissed me forcefully, his grip tight on my visage. I kissed him back hesitantly, wary of his strange behavior. Sherlock was an unpredictable man at times, so I didn't want to push him. I was usually the one to engage him in intimate affairs and was careful not to push my boundaries. I slowly raised my hands to weave through his hair, but Sherlock broke the kiss, and swiftly wrapped his arms around my midsection, gripping my waist tightly, his head falling to lie on my chest.
I could feel him shaking, so I did the only thing I could do for him. I comforted him. I placed my hands in his hair, and gently played with the curls, massaging his cranium. This technique was something I discovered that was a great way to calm Sherlock down. I gently rocked back and forth, whispering soothing words to him.
"Everything's going to be alright love. Just a bad dream." I cooed reassuringly. We stayed like that in quiet contentment, until I felt Sherlock's heartrate go back to normal. I stopped rocking him and gazed down at him in adoration.
"Oh, Sherlock, you'll never understand how much I love you." I whispered, pressing my lips to his hair.
My declaration, like always, fell to silent ears.
Author's Note: Song; Kiss Me by Ed Sheeran