Sherlock pushed his fingers through the golden hair. It was real, he could feel it. It had to be real. Deep blue eyes stared back at him. Sherlock leaned in and pressed his nose against John's. His eyebrow twitched in surprise and he gave a small whimper. Sherlock smiled and continued to stroke his head.
"I love you, John," he whispered as he lay down next to him and closed his eyes.

Jim scowled as he stepped out into the courtyard. He could clearly see John sitting on the top of the table with his legs placed on the bench underneath, as was his usual fashion, but the look of bewilderment and the inability to eat the rest of his sandwich was becoming more evident as he walked towards him. As Jim's fancy shoes clicked lightly but audibly on the ground underneath him, John looked up from his legs and stared at Jim, his face still plastered with confusion.
"Jim! Thank God!" he whispered harshly, pointing at his legs, "how do I get rid of him?"
Jim looked at where he was pointing and scowled again. Sherlock was sleeping on John's lap, his arms folded under his chin.
"What happened?" Jim asked, eyes still not moving from Sherlock.
"I… I was just about to eat," he started, lifting his sandwich up as if to prove his point, "and he suddenly appears out of nowhere, straddles the bench and goes to sleep on my leg!"
Jim hummed in contemplation. He sat on the bench with his back to John's legs and rested his head on John's lap.
"You're quite comfortable, you know," Jim commented. John's face flushed a light crimson.
"I don't care if I'm comfortable! I'm feeling very uncomfortable right now!" he threw his hands into the air, and as he did so a piece of tomato flung out and landed nearby. Jim chuckled and Sherlock stirred in his sleep. John sighed and ate his sandwich in silence, ignoring the two teenagers that were leaning against him.

"It's not funny," stated John as he walked off to the buses. Jim giggled again and shot a tiny unnoticeable glance at the cloaked figure that glided past John and him. John continued to scowl and shifted the strap of his bag on his shoulder. Jim giggled again.
"But you're so comfortable," he smiled. John glared at him from the side of his eye and mumbled an angry farewell as he boarded his bus.
The bus trip was silent as always, with the boys seated on opposite sides of the vehicle, looking out of their respective windows. John spared a glance or two at the reflection of Sherlock in the window, but apart from that he stared out the window and absent-mindedly took in the scenery.
Upon their arrival to the street and the expected departure from the bus, Sherlock turned swiftly towards his house and in doing so, dislodged a sheet of paper that was loosely poking out of his pocket. It fluttered across the empty street, floating in front of John's small strides. It landed in the gutter and John salvaged it and took it inside with him. Sherlock was in too much of a hurry to notice the sheet had wandered away from his pocket. He had to get inside before his father returned.

Sherlock entered the house and was immediately met by the sight of his father lying unconscious on the kitchen table. Sherlock's stomach rumbled lightly and reminded him that it had been at least a week since he had last eaten. He deposited his bags near the staircase and stripped his feet of his shoes and socks. He then padded lightly into the kitchen, in desperate hope that there was something to eat, no matter how small. He opened the cupboard furthest away from the sleeping form, deciding that he'd work his way towards the table until he found some trace of food. The unfortunate thing about the cupboard doors is they had a tendency to make a whining noise as they opened and closed. Sherlock noticed that the opening whine was more upbeat than the closing one, as though they were happy you were using them, and sad as you closed them and let them be.
Squeak!
Whiskey, Sherlock thought to himself, making a mental note of the items in each cupboard.
Squeeeak...
Pad, pad, pad.
Squeak!
More Whiskey...
Squeeeak...
Pad, pad, pad.
Squeak!
Daddy Long Legs...
Squeeeak...
Pad, pad, pad.
Squeak!
Ah! Cereal! Sherlock thought, realising that it was probably stale. He didn't mind, as long as it was food. He reached out to grab the box, and as he lifted it his brain made a quick deduction. Cereal is noisy. Very noisy. Every movement he made with the half empty box brought an onslaught of rustling. He quietly padded over to the fridge to find half a litre of milk that was due to go off tomorrow. He grabbed that and a spoon from the dishrack that was full of forgotten food utensils and slowly made his way upstairs. He was halfway to the top when one of the floorboards emitted a loud groan, which in turn made Sherlock's father groan into consciousness.
Shit.
He silently ran the rest of the way to his room, locking and barricading the door and slipping under his bed. His foot brushed a small pile of John's fur that had collected in the corner of the floor under his bed, and he let out a small, pained whimper of sadness. He groped his pocket to try and find the story he read to John before he passed, and became even more angry and sad when he found it was missing. He tried to remember it, but he couldn't get past the first part.
*~*
"Tell me how much you love me," said the woman to her lover.
"I'm afraid I can't," he responded woefully. The woman smiled.
"Can you show me?" she asked, a hopeful glimmer in her eyes.
"There's only one way I can," he stated, turning and walking out of the house.
*~*
A/N
I'm sooooooo sorry. I've only just managed to finish the most important assignment for school, and I've got a lot of other things on my plate right now. This update is probably the most disappointing because it's so very, very late, but as you read I'm probably either working on the next chapter or uploading it. Also I've got Lyrical Genius to update as well as a new fic for OperaGoose's "Benedict's Birthday Bash!" thing she's got going on. I signed up twice (once for Benedict, another for the awesome picture OperaGoose made :D) so I'm doing the aforementioned fic and some artwork! (Which you would be able to find on my DeviantArt, details at the bottom of my profile ;3) The story at the end of this fic I just made up myself because I cbf researching a fancy story to suit the mood I've got going on here.
Wow, this A/N is probably going to be longer than the actual story! ."
I'll be quiet now.
Oh! But first, A SUPERMEGAAWESOME glomp for everyone that's alerted/reviewed so far, it makes me so happy!
And I've decided that in my new fic I will respond to each and every review in the A/Ns! I really want to respond to all of you in every story, but for now just appreciate that I appreciate you all!
Thanks for being so patient with me~
SH