*reader's POV*
I lay face first on my mattress, wrapped in my blanket like a burrito. Sniffing and sneezing, coughing my lungs out. Used tissues all over the the floor. I sloppily reach my hand out and search around for the tissue box. After I finally find it I sigh...empty. I groan loudly and immediately regret it after a sharp pain erupts in my throat. I hate being sick. My cell phone went off and turned it on. It was a text from Derek.
Derek: Reid's sick too, wonder why ;)
I roll my eyes and text back telling him to shut up. I lay back down and close my eyes preparing to go to sleep. I'm interrupted by a knock on my door. I trudge to the door and swing it open, slightly glaring at whom ever has interrupted my slumber. Spencer stood there with a box of tissues, soup, and a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He pushed past me, throws his bringings on the table and flops down on my couch. I don't say anything just walk slowly over to him and fall next to him on the couch. He grabbed the remote to the T.V. and turns on Dr. Who. He wraps the blanket around the both of us and hugs me tightly.
After a few hours of sitting there and watching TV, I fell asleep wrapped securely in his arms.
I woke up to something burning. I tiredly sat up and looked into the kitchen. Spencer was sitting on one of the dining chairs, his head on the table, fast asleep. Smoke bellowing out of a pan on the stove. Not in the mood the move I find a nearby shoe and tossed it at the pan, knocking it onto the floor causing Spencer to wake up.
"Sherlock...I'm bored..." I whined. I call Spencer Sherlock in return of him calling me...
"Sorry John." He sniffled. (Johnlock forever). He got up and sat on the floor, leaning back on the couch. I slip down and onto his lap. I lean back into his chest and he rests his chin on my head.
"Do you want to watch more TV?" He asked in a raspy voice due to his sore throat.
"No." I say stubbornly.
"Okay...read?"
"Nuh uh. Tell me random facts. " I insist. But he just shakes his head.
"I can't think. It's all this mucus. " he mutters.
"Ew. Spence..." I complain but then I just nod in agreement, "I hate being sick." I mumble. He takes my hand and starts playing with my fingers. We sit like that for what seems like hours die
due to the fact that we were bored out of our minds.
After awhile he turns me around to face him. I look up at him curiously. He presses his lips to mine, I kiss back immediately. We pull way and rest our foreheads together.
"I guess being sick isn't that bad." Spencer smiles. It all would have been really romantic had I not sneezed on his face, "(y/n)... way to kill the mood." He mumbles. I place a quick kiss on his lips and smirk. After pulling away he brushes a piece of my (h/c) behind my ear, "Okay I guess you didn't kill the mood, John."
"Of course I didn't Sherlock." I smirk.
