Summary: Sherlock has the flu.
A/N: I wrote this because I - much like Sherlock, am down with the flu, my throat hurts and I need my Harry.
Thank you xDarkLightx, Rori Potter, bookworm0902,chantal and flamenin (who keeps an eye for my typos ^^) for reviewing and the others for following or favouring.
Hope you like this. :)
ALSO, review award at the 30th review. A oneshot!
Achoo!
Sherlock sneezed again, he hated being sick. He rarely gets sick but that is what he gets for walking in the rain last night.
His throat hurt, his nose was running and it hurt from constant blowing. One minute he is cold and the other he is hot and couldn't stand his blanket. He also hated how his brain wouldn't stop working, he analysed everything. He couldn't read books because he always figured out how it all works out by the end of the second chapter, same with watching the telly and anything else was too boring.
Thank God he had Harry or else he would have been stuck with Mycroft jabs.
"I put honey in your tea, Sherlock. And yes, you are going to drink it," Harry said as he placed the mug on the nightstand and helped Sherlock to sit upright before handing him the tea.
Sherlock sighed in his mug as he took small sips from his tea and suited himself more comfortably while Harry summoned a book.
"Beedle the Bard tried to convey what he saw as the truth disguised in fairy tales, hence I will tell you the Tale of the Three Brothers, between stories and reality..."
Sherlock paid attention to Harry, but his eyes were getting heavier with each passing word. Half way through his story Sherlock was already dosing off, with the mug loosely clasped between his fingers.
Gently taking the mug from Sherlock's fingers, Harry kissed his forehead whilst tucking him in. He settled himself on the chair to keep an eye on Sherlock.