John had worried for Sherlock a lot while the detective had been using his preferred drug, but he worried even more now as the symptoms of withdrawal made themselves evident. Sherlock spent most of the day holed up in his room sleeping or brooding, normally this wasn't out of the normal but this sort of brooding lacked all of the childish attitude it normally did. It made him seem dead and lifeless. John could barely coax a disinterested grunt out of the man when he tried to talk to him, and he hung about 221B like a shadow.
The worst part was when his hands would twitch excitedly, and John knew that he was craving cocaine. He kept a close eye on his friend, to make sure he didn't fall back into addiction.
On one such occasion Sherlock was dozing on the couch and John was glancing up from his book every so often to check on him. Well every so often meaning he had read the same sentence over and over again and had spent most of his time staring at Sherlock. The detective's face was pained, he was probably caught in the grasp of the kind of nightmare characteristic of cocaine withdrawal. Normally John couldn't imagine Sherlock being bothered by something like a nightmare, but when Sherlock let out a small moan John could imagine it quite clearly.
With steps he didn't remember taking he found himself next to the couch, he knelt down and ran a hand through Sherlock's hair.
"It's okay. I'm here." he whispered, feeling a bit stupid as he comforted Sherlock as he might comfort a small child. The sleeping man grimaced, and John wrapped him in his arms. Surely he could comfort Sherlock and then get out of this situation before he woke up. After all if Sherlock woke up being embraced by his clearly-just-a-friend flatmate he'd surely have something sarcastic to say about it.
Suddenly John felt Sherlock shift, and his heart stopped when he realized the detective was embracing him back. Sherlock nuzzled against John's neck with a pleased sound and John's skin felt electric. Surely Sherlock didn't know what he was doing, he was asleep he was just responding unconsciously.
"A rather pleasant awakening." Sherlock's voice was a deep rumble resonating in John's ear, his warm breath tickling the back of his neck.
John started, pushing Sherlock away and jumping back nearly falling over. Sherlock's near dead eyes took on a look of amusement that brought the life back into them.
John sat there, gaping and blushing for a moment before Sherlock rolled his eyes and pushed himself up into a seated position with some effort.
"There was no need for a violent reaction." he murmured.
"Well...I don't know." John managed to say, not exactly sure what it was he didn't know.
"Will you do it again?" Sherlock asked.
"Excuse me?" John blinked, unsure of what Sherlock was asking.
"Come back over here." Sherlock reached out and took John's hand, gesturing him over. John managed to get his arms around Sherlock again without his face turning red, and Sherlock let his head sink onto John's shoulder. Somewhere in the back of his mind John noticed how thin Sherlock was but mostly he was focusing on how good he smelled.
"I want to sleep like this." Sherlock murmured softly, managing to coax John onto the couch with him. John arranged them so that Sherlock could lay his head on John's chest, and then he worked up the courage to lay a kiss on Sherlock's temple.
"Alright." he replied.
"And you think I'm ignorant. Stop blushing already, I love you too John."