Who: John and Sherlock What: Waking up Where: Their house When: Morning feb 15 Rating: IMPLIED JOHNLOCK! Do not read if you do not like! Status: Closed
The room was still doing a few flips when John woke up, and he refused to open his eyes. It was much too bright in the room, once again. Hungover. That's right, last night was Valentine's Day and Rose had never gotten back to him. But apparently, he'd found someone. He could feel the warmth and steady breaths of a body next to his own. In fact, his warms were wrapped around said body. But the body felt bony, and more muscular than any woman John had ever felt. And the smell, it wasn't sweet like a woman's perfume, it smelled like-
Oh god. Sherlock.
John's eyes flew open as he shifted away from his best friend quickly, almost falling out of the bed. Sherlock's bed. John took a few deep breaths before moving to stand up, and began to stare at the creature sleeping before him.
At first he wanted to shout, ask Sherlock what was going on. But then he remembered they'd both been drinking, and this was completely explainable. It wasn't like anything happened. Right? But that anger soon drained away as John observed the sleeping man.
His face looked much younger while he slept. He reminded John of an innocent child, and his expression was so peaceful. So much more peaceful than he'd ever seen it. John felt a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth as he watched the other sleep, thinking about how much he really did enjoy this sight.
He'd never tell Sherlock just what he'd seen here, today. And how childlike he looked as he slept. John couldn't honestly remember the last time Sherlock slept like this, if at all. The man had sleeping and eating problems.
And then, smiling dumbly to himself, John continued to watch his best friend sleep.