A Study In Love - A Johnlock Fanfiction

Chapter Twenty-One

Hello there! Not much to say except I should probably tell you guys that I'm starting school a week from Monday, and am already becoming busy with school stuff. So, I don't have as much time to write, and thus future updates most likely won't be around every 3 days like I'd hoped. Though, I will say I don't have very much more of this story left to write. But just a heads up. Plus, I’ll try to keep the chapters lengthy to make up for it. :)

Thank you to everyone who's read, voted, and/or commented! You guys rock. :)

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The next morning John awoke to the sound of a heartbeat drumming in his ear. As he lay there with his eyes closed, not yet fully awake, the gentle thumping threatened to lull him back to sleep. He probably would have drifted back out of consciousness if he hadn't become aware of a strange sensation on the back of his head. It felt as if someone was playing with his hair, but due to the fact that his hair was rather short it felt more like a scalp massage than anything.

John should have been more concerned with the fact that he had no idea whose hand it was, or why there was a heart beating so loudly in his ear, but at the moment he was too comfortable to care. For a while he lay there, completely still, enjoying the feel of fingers in his hair, an arm draped over his torso, and a deep voice humming softly in his ear.

Wait, what? John's eyelids flew open and he found himself staring at darkness. He became painfully aware of a weight on his right arm, and the fact that whatever he was resting his head on was moving, slowly, rhythmically, as if it were breathing. John reached up and placed his free hand on the surface his head was resting on, and felt it tense up. The heartbeat in his ear sped up a bit as well. It was then that John realized it was Sherlock's chest his head was resting on, that it was Sherlock's slender fingers softly tousling his hair, that is was Sherlock's voice that had been humming in his ear. Of course, once he moved all movement and sound ceased to exist.

"Are you awake John?" Sherlock whispered, his voice barely audible, and gentle enough to not have woken John in case he was still asleep. A few brief moments of silence passed as John debated whether he should answer or not. As pleasant as it was for him to be curled up against Sherlock like this, he knew it was wrong. Flat mates didn't cuddle in the morning, even if they'd spent the previous night asleep in the same bed. After all, that had only been because Sherlock was too tired and too unsteady on his feet to go out into the living room, and John's leg wouldn’t allow him to sleep on the couch.

"Erm, yeah," he said, his voice still groggy with sleep. He removed his hand from Sherlock's chest and rubbed his eyes. He then yawned and let his hand rest on his own chest. He held his breath and waited for Sherlock to pull away, but he remained still. All he did was remove his hand from John's hair and let out a slow breath.

"Sleep well?" Sherlock asked, and the gruffness of the voice voice sent shivers down John's spine. He felt his heart skip a beat, and was glad his head was on Sherlock's chest and not the other way around, so Sherlock couldn't tell.

"Yes, actually," he said when he realized he'd been asked a question. "Did you?" He tilted his head upwards and stared at Sherlock, and saw the half smile that appeared on his face when he glanced down at John and nodded his head slightly.

"Very." John felt a blush creeping up, and turned away so Sherlock wouldn't see. A few moments of silence passed with neither of them moving or speaking. With his head turned, John could see that the room had now been bathed in warm sunlight, and he smiled as he stared out the window at the morning sky. He didn't make any effort to untangle himself from Sherlock, who didn't seem to be planning on moving any time soon either. It was strange for John, as he didn't believe Sherlock to be one so comfortable with such closeness, yet when he looked up at the detective his facial expression was perfectly serene. It was only when Sherlock glanced down at John and caught him staring that he seemed to grow a bit flustered. His eyes darted around the room and he cleared his throat nervously. John let out a small sigh and began to pull away, thinking that Sherlock had finally had enough, but to his surprise Sherlock stayed put, trapping John's arm beneath his body.