Oneshots of John lock<3

Late night blogging. (Bbc)

John sighed, his legs cried as he limped into bed. They'd been doing a lot of running for the case they completed today, and although it was a heck of a interesting day. His ageing body needed to rest. Although, sherlock being sherlock, was experimenting in the kitchen, he made sure to remain quiet but there was the occasional crash, or explosion, or just pure chaos breaking loose. John didn't mind, the war seemed to have helped him cancel out noises now. Maybe it wasn't the best thing to adapt too in a normal household, but living with sherlock it definitely was. After maybe 10 minutes, John was stumped with the description, his laptop was placed on his stomach, while his fingers hovered over the keys preparing to type, but not knowing what he could possibly do. He heard light switches being turned flicked, hinting that sherlock was most likely coming to bed now. The bedroom door crept open, with the slender man walking inside. "You alright? Is the front door locked?" John questioned, smiling at his presence.
"Mhm, and yes. Your still bothering with that blog?" The brunette huffed, taking off his shirt and replacing it with a silk t-shirt.
"Yeah, people appreciate my blog!" John spoke defensively, but he never took what sherlock said about his blog to heart, half the time it was him joking. Sherlock slipped off his Jeans, pulling some tracksuit bottoms on. He wouldn't of bought them, John did. Claiming sherlock needed more casual lounge clothing. (Though he disagrees).
"Okay, when I see it I'll believe it." Sherlock teased.
Though deep down he knew his lovers blog was highly appreciated. He slid into bed beside John placing his head back on the pillow. "You okay? Your usually typing away." The taller man's eyes inspected the screen, his partner was merely 200 words in.
"A bit stuck, happens every once in awhile." He breathed, glancing beside him.
"Which part are you on now?" Sherlock shuffled over, placing his head on johns chest, staring at the screen. John couldn't help but feel his stomach flutter at the sight, a arm reached over his chest almost as of sherlock was securing himself to his lover. 
"Still describing the crime scene." His tone fell dull, still not knowing how this would work.
"Instead of mentioning the foot prints.." sherlock paused rising his finger upwards pointing at the screen. "Here, you could add it on now and explain about the possibly escape routes, and then my thoughts, then witnesses." Silence fell between them, John was just pondering, it would work very well, he was surprised  he hadn't thought of it himself. "If that makes sense.." the brunette mumbled, closing his eyes.
"No no, that'd be amazing, thank you darling." John swiped his curser along the screen, adapting his text. In the reflective parts of his screen he could see sherlock closed his eyes, though a gentle smile printed along his face.

(This is my first story so don't be too mean</3)