Thank you, Mrs. Hudson. Said Sherlock as his landlady threw a blue knitted blanket on the detectives unconscious blogger.
Oh Sherlock, what happened to him?
He uhaccidentallydrank concentrated Nyquil.
SHERLOCK!!! NO EXPERIMENTS FOR A WEEK!!
BUT MRS.HUDSON- Whined the grown man.
NO BUTS!!! With that Mrs. Hudson was already shutting the flat door behind her and angrily stomping down the stairs.
Sherlock walked to where John was soundly sleeping and hovered over him. He smelled like tea and fresh air. His hair was a mess, for it was getting longer. He was wearing a white t-shirt that Sherlock lent him, that fit tightly around his biceps, and plaid pajama pants. Sherlock looked around to make sure his brother nor Mrs. Hudson was around, and tucked the blanket around John. He smiled, proud of himself, and left to his room to look for a case.
Sher...Sherlock? SHERLOCK!!! John shouted as he woke up from his two-day slumber. His stomach growled and pained in hunger. His limbs felt stiff and weak and he was immensely confused. But, no matter the side effects, he felt refreshed. He hadnt slept in days before his random long slumber because he and Sherlock were on an intense case. Waitwhy was he so sleepyhow long had he been out.
John was surprised at how worried Sherlock looked as he bolted into the living area John had been resting in.
John, Sherlock said breathlessly, are you ok!? Whats wrong!? John smiled at how much his friend cared.
Yeah, perfect. He smiled up at Sherlock whos features softened as he smiled back at his flat mate. John stood and stretched, Sherlock saw him wince. He felt guilt trickle down his spine like a drop of sweat.
Let me help you. John loved when Sherlock cracked his back. It felt like heaven. Sherlock walked over to his friend and chuckled as John threw his arms up in the air like an excited child, needy to be held. He wrapped his arms around John from behind and lifted him up until he heard dozens of crackles from Johns back. He put his friend down.
Thank you, Sherlock. But Sherlock didnt let go. He held John against he and nuzzled into the nape of his neck. UhSherlock. John tried to pull away but Sherlock just pulled him back. Suddenly John felt nervous and defensive. Sherlock stop! He pushed the curly haired detective away. He stumbled to keep a standing position.
I drugged you. You slept for two days. It was an experiment. ImIm sorry. Sherlock stormed off to his room. His eyes were damp with sorrow and guilt. John stood in shock at what he had done. At what they both did.
The next day both men acted as if nothing happened. Sherlock was back to his stone cold self and John was back to his soft outgoing self. It was normal. Lestrade text them at around 10 in the morning to meet them at Kinkade Street.
The detective and his helper arrived at the crime scene shortly after. Sherlock examined the nude 300-pound body on the alley curb as John stood back and let his thoughts wonder. Why had Sherlock acted so weird yesterday? Why was he acting normal today? Oh well. Its over. No need to get worked up about it.
John? Suddenly the doctor was snapped back to reality by his friends voice. He sounded very distracted. Obviously by the crime sceneright?
Yeah? He said, walking closer to Harold. Sherlock couldnt deduce his name, but he said he looked like a Harold sothey went with it.
Tell me what you see. John took this opportunity to make his detective smile.
A gorgeous curly haired man whos wasting my time. I know youve already solved the case. Youre brilliant. Sherlock smiled so large crinkles formed all over his face. John half smiled back. He began to walk toward the police tape to leave and ruffled Sherlocks dark chocolate curls on his way. Sherlock sat there for many minutes smiling like a dopey child before telling Lestrade where to arrest the killer and running off to catch up with John.
