Johnlock oneshots (2009, RDJ version)

Five times Holmes fell asleep on Watson

    And one time Watson fell asleep on Holmes.

1.
    They've just destroyed a boat and have been thrown into custody for the night in return. They're sat next to each other, facing different directions, and Holmes can't stop yawning.
    "You can sleep if you need to," Watson says evenly. He's trying not to let Holmes hear how annoyed he is. It doesn't work.
    "Are you still angry about dinner with her, Watson?" Holmes asks.
    Watson clenches his jaw. "Sleep." He refuses to acknowledge that Holmes still won't say Mary's name.
    Holmes yawns again. "If that's what my doctor orders." He rests his head on Watson's shoulder, rubbing his cheek on the rough fabric of Watson's coat. Watson blinks forcefully, trying to clear his head. He turns to look at the back of Holmes head. He resists the urge to touch his friend's dark curls. Why does I keep being lead into these situations? He thinks. Why do I keep letting him do this to me? He knows the answer, of course. But he won't admit it, even to himself. It's too dangerous.
Watson sighs and tears his eyes from Holmes. He won't be able to sleep tonight.

2.
    Watson is reading in his chair when Holmes staggers in. The detective is clutching his chest, red seeping through his fingers. His face is pale and his eyes are barely focused. Watson discards his paper immediately and rushes to his friend's side. He gets there just as Holmes collapses. He slips his arms under Holmes' and drags him onto the couch.
    "What the hell happened Holmes?" Watson asks as he retrieves his medical kit from the bathroom.
    Holmes smiles shakily. "Criminals don't like being caught."
    Watson unbuttons Holmes' shirt open and pulls the wet fabric from the wound. It's a deep slash across Holmes' breast, just below his collarbone. Watson wipes the excess blood away, cleaning it with rubbing alcohol. Holmes hisses, wincing in pain.
    "Sorry," Watson says sympathetically. "Alright..." He's assessed the wound. "Luckily, your criminal has a bad aim. He's missed your arteries and hasn't cut deep enough to severely damage your arm movement, but you won't be able to chase criminals for a while." He shoots Holmes a look, who looks away guiltily. "You should have told me you were going out, I would have come." And maybe this wouldn't have happened.
    "It wasn't supposed to be difficult, he wasn't a particularly intelligent criminal," the detective huffs.
    "Right, because only smart criminals carry knives, so there was no need to worry," Watson says sarcastically. He presses a clean tissue to the cut, which is still bleeding heavily. "This needs stitches." He glares at the detective. "And you're only getting local anaesthetic."
    Holmes whines. "But— "
    "And you're absolutely not getting any morphine."
    Holmes frowns. Watson tries not to smile at how indignant the detective looks. He wipes clean a spot besides the wound to inject the anaesthetic, and Holmes bites back a groan as the needle pierces his skin. Watson avoids Holmes' gaze for the next few minutes while he waits for the anaesthetic to take effect. He threads his needle and prepares to stitch up Holmes' wound.
    It doesn't take long for someone as experienced as Watson—he's had to stitch Holmes up multiple times. He's cleaning up the blood that's oozed out when he feels Holmes' breathing slow. With a jolt of panic he realises Holmes is asleep.
    "Oh no you don't," Watson whispers and slaps Holmes across the face. The detective wakes up with a jerk and a yelp. He scowls at Watson.
    "What was that for?" He complains.
    "I'm not checking your pulse every minute just to make sure you're alive."
    Holmes scrunches his nose. "You didn't have to hit me." He mutters.
    Watson smirks. "Maybe I wanted to." He taps Holmes' nose and starts bandaging his friend.
    Holmes rolls his eyes, repressing a smile.

3.
    Once again, Watson's sat in his armchair reading his paper, but Holmes isn't bleeding everywhere this time. Instead, he's settled between Watson's legs, sat at his feet like a dog, his head leaning on the doctor's thigh, reading his book. Watson's hand is resting on Holmes' head, his fingers tentatively stroking his dark curls. He massages the detective's scalp, and every now and again Holmes lets out a contented sigh. Watson keeps telling himself it's not romantic, they're just friends, it's totally platonic, but when Holmes drops his book and puts his hand under his cheek—nestling further into Watson's leg—the doctor forgets how to breath.
    He pulls his fingers from Holmes' hair nervously. Holmes lets out a soft whine and reaches up to take the doctor's hand. He pulls it down, leading it to rest on his neck. Now Watson is stroking the nape of Holmes' neck, occasionally twisting his fingers into his hair. He accidentally brushes the tendon by Holmes' collar and the detective shudders slightly. Watson falters, swallowing. His hand shakes a little as he moves to touch Holmes' cheek. He brushes his fingers over the stubble on his flatmate's face.
    Holmes twists his head to press a kiss to Watson's hand. Watson cautiously runs his thumb across the detective's lips, tracing them softly. His stomach is in knots as he leans down. His heart is in his throat as Holmes twists to face him. His pulse is skyrocketing as their mouths touch hesitantly. The way they're sat doesn't allow for more than gently lip-bumping. It's awkward and timid on both ends, and very chaste, but it leaves both of them breathless. Watson pulls away, a soft smile playing on his lips. Holmes mirrors his smile and he looks away, blushing. The detective rests his head back on the doctor's thigh, evidently very pleased. Watson feels him grin against his leg. He too can't help a smile spread across his face.
    He starts stroking the detective's hair again, twisting the locks around his fingers more confidently. Holmes hums sleepily and nestles into Watson's thigh. Watson rests his head against the back of his armchair, closing his eyes. Their breathing syncs again, slowing into contented sleep at the same time.