Johnlock Oneshots

Rainy Days and Morning Tea

John could hear a soft tapping, mostly background noise but still comforting to his sleeping mind. He rolled over and reached across the bed for Sherlock, but he appeared to have already gotten up. Sighing, he sat up, blinking sleepily and rubbing at his eyes. When he could finally manage to keep his eyes open, he glanced at the clock and groaned. 3:47AM. How did he manage to wake up that early? And how long had Sherlock been awake?

He knew he always got up early anyways, but still.

Pulling the sheet from the bed and wrapping it around himself, he trudged down the hall and into the living room where he found Sherlock already sitting in his chair. He was still in his pyjamas and had messy bed head, hands steepled under his chin in thought. John shuffled over to his chair, almost tripping over the sheet but steadying himself on the table.

The sound of him fumbling around made Sherlock look up. "Sleep well?" He asked. John just mumbled something ineligible and sunk into his chair. Sherlock smiled warmly at him, and leaned back on his chair, sitting comfortably. John pulled the sheet tighter around himself and glanced towards the window.

"It's raining," he stated. Sherlock turned and looked out the window too. "How observant of you," he quipped. This caused John to frown a bit, but it was quickly replaced with a grin when he noted the playful look on Sherlocks face.

At that moment a loud clap of thunder boomed, and Sherlock shot up into the air, almost like a startled cat. The look of utter surprise on Sherlock's face stayed for a moment before it quickly turned to embarrassment. "Thundering too apparently," He mumbled sheepishly. John giggled at that. Giggled. Liked a ray of sunshine. Sherlock just wanted to squeeze him, it was the cutest thing he'd ever been blessed of hearing.

"How observant of you," John mimicked, smiling brightly up at Sherlock. Sherlock smiled back before letting his gaze fall to the floor. "Shall I make some tea?" He asked looking quickly up at John, a bashful smile playing on his lips.

John loved Sherlock's smile. It was one of those things that happened only when they were alone together, and John felt so very special whenever he got to see it. "Some tea would be lovely, yes." He nodded and watched as Sherlock went into the kitchen and started to move things around for room.

Soon after, Sherlock returned with two hot cups of tea walking slowly as to not drop them. He carefully set John's cup on the table beside him. "I'd let that cool for a bit if I were you," he said quietly as he settled himself into his chair. "Thanks," John smiled at Sherlock and picked up his tea, blowing on it to cool it down a bit.

"How long have you been up?" John asked Sherlock, cautiously sipping his tea. "Since it started raining," The dark haired man answered, picking up his tea as well. "Which was.....?" John let his question hang in the air and Sherlock looked away from John, squinting, as if looking for something far away.

"Not sure," the detective eventually answered, and took a drink from his teacup. John nodded, letting it drop as he knew he'd never get a definite answer anyways, and set his cup down.

John shifted in his chair trying to get comfortable and pulled his sheet tighter around himself, savouring the warmth, before picking up his tea again.

They sat in a comfortable silence and listened to the rain hitting the roof and windows as they finished their tea. When both of them were done, Sherlock got up and brought the empty cups to their kitchen. John thanked him and shuffled his way to the couch flopping onto it with a sigh.

Sherlock soon returned to the main room, violin in hand. John watched as the detective positioned himself at the window and began to play a soft melody, the music fitting nicely with the pitter patter of rain. John could feel himself drifting off, and felt comfort in the fact that he got to have this special moment with his flat mate. He didn't care what people said about him, John knew that Sherlock wasn't a heartless machine.

In fact Sherlock was one of the most human... Humans, that John had ever met. He could feel a deep love for the man swell in his chest and a smile found its way onto his face. He thought about how wonderful the man before him is.

The man that had saved his life in so many ways. The man who observed everything without missing a single detail. The man that despite people hating him, helped them. The same man who played complex melodies just for John to hear, who had now stopped his violin playing, and was now watching the doctor stare at him peacefully.

"Yes?" Sherlock questioned, snapping John from his stupor. "I didn't say anything," John pointed out. "Yes, but you were looking at me so I assumed you have something to say." Sherlock set his violin on the table and peered at John, one eyebrow arched. John just crossed his arms and grinned up at him sleepily causing a warm fuzzy feeling in the detectives chest.

"Did you buy milk?" John asked. Sherlock just shook his head, an amused look on his face as he then made his way over to the couch. He flopped down onto the John and shifted so that rather than laying on him he was laying beside him.

Sherlock felt the doctor shift beside him before he moved so that the sheet was semi-wrapped around both of them. The detective wrapped his arms around John and nestled his head in the crook of John's shoulder. "Taking that as a no," John stated quietly, tangling his legs with the detective's.

"Oh hush," Sherlock mumbled, pressing a light kiss onto John's collarbone. John smiled and reached up a hand to run through the detective's dark hair. Sherlock's eyes flitted shut, and he hummed in content.

They stayed like that for quite some time, John carding his fingers though Sherlock's fine curls, every now and then placing a soft kiss to the top of his head. Sherlock would rub soothing circles with his thumbs onto John's arms whilst peppering his neck with light kisses.

The rain continued to beat on the windows, the noise lulling the pair to sleep, with the rise and fall of each others chests as a reassuring reminder that they were alive and together. "Sherlock?"

When John got no reply he smiled gently and pulled the detective tighter into his arms. The doctor placed another kiss on top of the dark mop of curls. "I love you."

~*~*~*~

Well, there we go: the first oneshot. Hope y'all liked it and that it doesn't suck too bad. Got the idea for this one a few months ago, shows how long it takes me to write something lmao. If you've got any prompts or requests for me I'd love to hear them! Until next time!