Sherlock Imagines

Sherlocks do not get sick

Imagine: taking care of a sick Sherlock

     It was a typical rainy day in London. A (H/L) (H/S) (H/C) headed girl sat curled upon a chair waiting for her intelligent and high functioning sociopathic detective boyfriend to arrive home from his latest case.
  You sat waiting for Sherlock to get home. You were worried about his health. It was mid-winter and he was bound to get sick since he thought he needed no damn umbrella when it rained. He had woken up that morning with a case of the sniffles and had you had it your way, he would be in bed with a nice hot cup of tea and some soup.
You heard the sound of a car approaching and then the slamming of a door. It was then you knew he was home and you anxiously waited for him to come in so you could inspect his health.
   You heard the door downstairs being opened and footsteps on the stairs with the  muffled voices of John and Sherlock. "You know (Y/N) is going to be upset with you. She told you, you were going  get sick. You have to listen to females Sherlock. They're always right even when they're wrong; they're right. Never argue with them over it or your new sleeping arrangement will be on the couch or the floor."
"I am not sick Watson. I do not get sick."
They entered the flat and you immediately knew something  was wrong. Sherlock's face was paler than normal and had a slight gleam of sweat, which matted his auburn curls to his forehead. Not to mention that he seemed to sway slightly and his breathing sounded labored.
You went up to him and started fretting.
"William Sherlock Scott Holmes! You left without a  umbrella again didn't you?!" He slightly winced at the use of his full name and John fought to suppress a laugh.
You went on your tiptoes to gently place a loving hand on his forehead. You discovered he indeed was burning up and probably had a cold.
"Oh my love, you're burning up! Sit down and let me take your temperature. And hello John good evening just make yourself at home. Would you like a cup of tea?"
Sherlock reluctantly took a seat in his chair where you had been situated, waiting upon his arrival while, John sat in his old preferred seat and nodded.
"Good evening to you as well (Y/N). I told him he would get sick  and to listen to you." Sherlock  shot him a look and continued to sit and wait, a slight pout upon his face. He never did like to be coddled by you but he secretly loved having someone fret over him like you did.
You quickly entered the kitchen and set up the kettle to boil your tea water. You then went to the drawer you kept little odds and ends and located the thermometer. You approached Sherlock and he obediently opened his mouth. You put the thermometer in and waited for it to tell you his temperature.
The beep! beep! of the thermometer alerted you to check it. It read 103 degrees Fahrenheit.
"Sherlock dear, you have a fever and it needs to be broken before it can  do any more damage. Let me fetch John here a cup of tea and then you're getting a cool bath to break your fever and a night of nothing but soup and bed rest."
John stood and said that it would probably be best if he went home to give you both some 'privacy'. "But what about your tea?"
"I'll be fine (Y/N). You take care of Sherlock and I'll either ring you or stop by to check in."
"Come on then you. Let's get you to feeling better.", You said as John went to take the kettle off the stove and left.
"(Y/N), I must insist. I am not sick. Really, stop this nonsense."
You ignored him and helped him to his feet. He swayed a bit and stepped back, catching himself on his chair before he could fall over. "Damn walls are spinning. Ok fine you were right, I am sick. You happy? I, Sherlock Holmes the Great Detective, am defeated by none other than a common cold."
"Sherlock  quit the dramatics. You silly goose." You helped him become stable and to your bathroom. It was a bit difficult due to the major height difference between you. Your head reached to his heart and  if you stood on your tiptoes you could kiss his chin. It was one of the things that made you two such a lovely, though odd, couple.
You reached the bedroom and he sat on the bed while you went into the bathroom to start his bath. You decided against a bone-chilling bath and instead settled for luke warm. You went back into the  bedroom. Before you could leave the room and him to his own devices he gently grasped your wrists.
You looked into his piercing and loved filled eyes to see his earlier defiant self gone and in it's place a lost look.
Your heart sped up with the gaze he was giving.
"Would you mind accompanying me in my bath?"
  You couldn't say no. You loved moments like these where you could get to spend time with Sherlock sans clothes minus the sexual activity. Sometimes you just wanted to lay with him with no clothing as a barrier between your two bodies. You enjoyed the feeling of his skin pressed against yours, it was calming and made you feel closer and safe. You didn't have to be engaging in an activity just laying together.
"Of course. Who would I be to deny you comfort, my love?"
He blushed and  you helped him remove his ever present and beloved coat and scarf. You placed them in the closet while he removed his shoes and socks. His hands moved to his shirt buttons but you gently stopped them replacing his hands with yours.
"Allow me.", You said, a blush blossoming upon your pale cheeks. Another thing you enjoyed was getting  to undress the man you loved and unveiling the piece of art that was Sherlock Holmes. Your hands slid the buttons of his dress shirt through their holes till the shirt was opened and you could gaze upon his chest. He had little next to no chest hair, which you  preferred, and a light outline of abs that you lightly glided your fingertips over. Sherlock let out a light moan and then blushed. Only you could ever get such an emotion and sound from the 'emotionless' Holmes.
You ran your hands up his chest to his shoulders where you slipped his shirt from his torso. Enjoying your touch, he pressed closer to  you, forgetting he felt sick and getting lost in you. Your hands slipped to his trousers where you flicked open the button  and pulled down his zipper. You pulled his trousers down and his boxers followed shortly after. You stepped back and admired the bare detective. You were the only person to ever be this intimate with him and you were happy beyond belief that he was utterly and completely yours. 
A rare seductive smirk appeared on his face as pride swept through his being at you admiring his body.
"Now I believe it's your turn, love." And there went your ovaries. You could never deny him when he used that endearment in that oh-so-sultry voice of his. You let him brush back your hair and place a kiss on your forehead as he unbuttoned your shirt. As he unbuttoned each one he placed a kiss to the skin exposed. Once your shirt lay open exposing your lacy and slightly see-through bra, he lightly ran his fingertips over the swells of your breasts. Goose bumps raised on your arms and you closed your eyes enjoying his loving caresses. His nimble fingers slid down your stomach causing you to quiver as he slowly undid the button on  your jeans and slid down the zipper. Despite being unwell he was always in good health to tease.
  As he glided your pants over your slim legs, he got down on his knees to help get your jeans completely off. Once your jeans were off he stayed kneeling in front of you. You watched in breathless anticipation as he took the lace of your black underwear in his teeth and removed them from your body. It was the sexiest thing you could have ever imagined and what made it even hotter was the fact it was Sherlock, the only man to ever touch you intimately and the supposed coldest and heartless of men.
Once the article of clothing was removed he stood and wrapped his arms around  your back. He leaned into your ear and whispered, " Did you enjoy my little tease my love?" You could only hum in response. Sherlock gleamed in pride as he enjoyed the response he got from you. He was happy to give you such pleasure even if it came in the forms of small loving gestures. He pressed a quick kiss to your neck as his fingers unhooked your bra. He gently guided the straps down your arms and let it fall to the floor.
He took a step back to admire you the same as you did to him. As he gazed upon your small and curvy form, he couldn't help but feel his heart swell with love and joy.
"Let's get this over with so I can get better and make love to you till the early hours of the morning." Heat flushed your body.  I could get use to this side of Sherlock.
You entered the bathroom and got in first. You welcomed  the cool water against your skin. Sherlock got in after you and sat between your legs. You could feel the heat radiating off his body and could see just how awful he felt but was trying to hide.
Sherlock turned to you and asked," Would you just hold me for a bit?" Your response was to pull him to you.
He turned slightly and rested his head on your breasts so he could hear the steady thumping of your heart. You grabbed the wash clothe behind you, wet it and then rung it out. Then, you folded it and placed it upon Sherlock's head. You wrapped one arm around him while the other slid through his silken curls. With your body pressed to his, your hand running through his hair and the thumping of your heart, he fell asleep.
You watched his face as he slept and your heart swelled. You loved this man with your entire being and was glad you were the only one who got to see this soft, loving side; the one no-one believed him to possess.
You sat watching him for a bit before the water got too cold and you began to shiver.
  Sherlock stirred, joining the waking world. "You're cold. Come on let's get you warm, love. Thank you for taking care of me. Let me return the favor."
He got out of the tub and you watched the water roll down his skin as he grabbed three towels, wrapping one around his slim waist. He walked over to you and lifted you from the tub. Despite his 'fragile' appearance, he was pretty strong. He lightly placed you on your feet and dried you off. You took the third towel and dried his hair.
Once he deemed you both dry, he grabbed clothes for the both of you. He grabbed you a pair of black underwear and his favorite deep purple button up that was also your favorite of his shirts. He helped you get dressed and then you helped him into his black boxers, grey pajama pants and a plain white t-shirt.
Your shivering slowed but you still had a few tremors. You led Sherlock to the bed. "Alright, sit here and we'll check to see if your fever has broken." He sat there obediently while you retrieved the thermometer. While you were in the kitchen, you put on the kettle. You walked back to the bedroom and took his temperature. Once it had beeped, you checked and saw it went down to 100.
"Your fever has gone down slightly. So tea and soup for you."
Sherlock flung himself backwards on the bed and groaned. "Ugh (Y/N). I am fine. Please don't make me."
You just laughed at his childish antics. He sat up and pulled you down with him. "Don't you laugh at me."
You just struggled around trying to escape but he didn't want you to go. He leaned down and kissed you. That stopped you in your tracks and you eagerly responded. He lightly ran the tip of his tongue over your bottom lip, asking for permission which you gave. He wrapped his hand gently in your hair holding you to him as he delved into the sweet recesses of your mouth. You shyly met his tongue with yours. You two continued your snogging until the whistle of the tea kettle separated you two. You both panted trying to get oxygen back into your lungs.
You looked at Sherlock's disheveled appearance and started to giggle. Sherlock smirked at you and said, "I wouldn't be laughing, love. Look down." You did and gasped. Somehow while kissing you, he managed to unbuttoned your shirt to slightly expose the top swells of your breasts. "Sherlock! How in the bloody hell did you manage this?"
"It's elementary (Y/N). While you were distracted by my kissing skills I one- upped you.", he explained smugly. You just laughed at him as you got up. "Don't get that tone with me mister or no more kisses for you.", You joked.
He just laughed and laid back watching your backside, biting his lip, as you left the bedroom. You prepared him a hot cup of tea and then heated up some chicken soup. You brought it to him just as he sneezed and went in to a coughing fit. "Remember Sherlock, females are always right and Sherlocks can get sick."

Hello. Welcome to Sherlock imagined I hope you enjoyed this installment. If you have any requests let me know.
-Chloe