The night had been long, and the day significantly longer. You'd fallen into a ridiculous and hellish pattern of late nights and early mornings, whether it be your job, Sherlock, or just your life requiring you to get up early. Often, you would find yourself losing sleep because you were helping your partner in crime -well, more like stopping crimes- Sherlock Holmes, with cases. ...But, if you were being honest, you didn't mind. You enjoyed helping Sherlock and you relished in any criminals arrest. Oh, and when you made a breakthrough- when you made a breakthrough in a case the feeling was ...indescribable. It was like discovering happiness for the first time. If you lost some sleep along the way, it was no big deal, right? Not if you solved the case, right?
Well, as it turns out, those lost hours of sleep here and there catch up with you. Quickly, very quickly. This resulted in you in Sherlock's apartment almost falling asleep as he explained part of the case you were working on. Your eye lids were struggling to keep themselves open, and you certainly weren't concentrating.
"Are you listening? Y/N?" Sherlock asked, obviously annoyed at your lack of focus.
"Of course I am," you snapped.
Short tempered-ness.
Anger.
Lack of concentration.
All very clear signs of your sleep deprivation- self-inflicted sleep deprivation, I might add. You groaned out of frustration, and sunk back into the sofa, closing your eyes. 'I'm too tired to do this,' you thought. Slowly, you opened your eyes and looked up to Sherlock, who was staring down at you, his eyes narrowed. He was deducing you carefully, not that it took much to figure out you were tired, and hadn't slept in... in a while. You'd actually lost count of the sleep you'd missed.
"I'm sorry, Sherlock, but I'm tired- I don't think I can concentrate on this case right now. Can't we do something else?"
"Like what?" Sherlock asked, pursing his lips.
"Anything else. Just, something that doesn't involve too much activity."
He paused.
"The case isn't even that interesting, and you know it. Even Anderson could figure out- why are you wasting your time on this one?"
Sherlock sighed, and ran one of his hands through his hair.
"Fine- I'll drop the case... at least for now. What do you propose we do instead, then?" Sherlock questioned, striding across the room to get to you.
"Watch some crappy telly? Drink some tea? Maybe... cuddle?"
"Y/N, you know I don't like cuddling..."
"Yes you do. You're just a liar," you smirked, standing up from the sofa, "Now, do you want two spoonful's of sugar in your tea, or just one?"
Half an hour later, you and your boyfriend, Sherlock, were cuddled up on the sofa watching some crappy TV show, that you weren't really paying attention to. Your focus was on Sherlock. A smile slowly captured your face as he muttered a comment under his breath. His eyes rolled as the idiot on the show made yet another argument out of nothing. Sherlock noticed your eyes on him, and he turned down the volume on the television. His head moved to look at you, a smile weaved onto his lips.
"Something caught your attention?" he wondered, smirking slightly.
"Maybe..." you teased.
He couldn't help but smile a little wider. Soon, his focus drifted back to the TV, but you didn't mind. Your eyes wandered back to the screen. Gently you laid your head down on Sherlock's shoulder.
"I know you don't like doing things like this an awful lot, so I really appreciate it."
"I know," Sherlock quipped back. Quickly, he corrected himself his tone softer than before, "But, I don't mind that much. It's not entirely awful."
You rolled your eyes.
"This is nice," you murmured, snuggling closer to his chest.
He shifts slightly on the couch, and replies, "I suppose."
"Hey!"
"Fine. It's nice. Happy?"
"Yes," you mumbled into his chest.
You were about to speak again, but yourself and Sherlock's attention was drawn to the apartment's door, as you heard footsteps and then the door opening. No doubt, it was probably Sherlock's flat mate -John- returning. As soon as he steps into the room, he muttering about something, but he doesn't seem to recognise your presence, as he only seems to be talking to Sherlock, not you.
"You know, once in a while you could go out and buy the groceries? It's really not that difficult. For a genius like you, it should be easy-" John rambles, but cuts himself off, when he sees that yourself and Sherlock are... cuddling?
His eyes can't quite believe it.
"Hello John," Sherlock greeted.
"Hi John," you welcomed, almost smiling at his confusion to the fact that you two are... cuddling.
"Hi..." he began, trying to play it off as nothing, but soon curiosity gets the better of him, and he has to ask the question on the tip of his tongue, "What are you doing?"
"Cuddling," you said simply, as if it is the most obvious thing in the world.
"Isn't it obvious?" Sherlock asked.
"Cuddling?" John repeated.
"Yes," Sherlock confirmed.
"Yeah, that's getting a bit scary now," John commented, before muttering to himself, "Never thought I'd see the day Sherlock Holmes would cuddle with someone."
As soon as John leaves the room, Sherlock can't help but snicker at John. His eyes drift to you again. You are still smiling at John's confusion.
"I didn't realise cuddling was so strange," Sherlock murmurs to you.
"Neither did I."
