Two drabbles today - when I got home from a terribly annoying day at work I got inspired and had to get this out, I may skip tomorrow because of it. This one was inspired by the amazing art of livia carica, her Somnophilia series in particular. Please check her stuff out – livia-carica (dot) livejournal (dot) com.
Sometimes, when they sleep in the same bed, it's hot, sweaty, a mess of limbs. Sometimes it's a quiet, perfect fit. Sometimes, like tonight, it's nothing but comfort.
Last night, there'd been a nightmare – a bad one. Blood, blinding light, gunfire, explosions. John had tossed and turned, his legs had gotten tangled in the sheets and a thin sheen of sweat had formed over his tense body. Sherlock woke only when John jerked up with a shout, and by then it was too late.
He isn't going to let that happen again tonight. As John falls asleep, his profile dimly lit by the sodium orange light creeping in through the window, Sherlock slots himself neatly around him, a riot of dark curls resting against a soft cotton undershirt. John's breath hitches slightly, but he does not wake. Deftly, protectively, Sherlock wraps his arms around John's comfortingly solid torso. This time, if there is a nightmare, he will know. This time, he will wake before his love does, and soothe him through it.
Slowly, gently, Sherlock drifts off as well, to join John on mysterious adventures of the subconscious. As they settle further and further into somnolent depths, they seek each other out, bodies entangling tighter and tighter. Breathing slows, two breaths settle into one rhythm, two hearts settle into one beat.