A/N So I just thought this was kinda sweet. I am desperately trying to forget the misery that overcame the Johnlock fandom on Sunday (S4 03) So I just started writing a cute fic. Hope you all enjoy!!! Thanks soooo much for all of the reads and votes!!! really gives me confidence in my own writing!!! If you guys have any suggestions or requests just leave a comment and I will give it a shot! Love you all!! Enjoy <3
"John," There was panic in my flatmate's voice, "John get in here right now." I raced into the sitting room to find a very dishevelled Sherlock sprawled across the sofa. The tip of his nose was red and his cheeks were flushed, making him look embarrassed and flustered. I studied the lanky man for a moment, trying to figure out what was wrong. All the signs pointed to him being sick, but I had never seen him ill before. The worst Sherlock ever got was a slight headache. "I am dying John." His statement was so outrageous I couldn't contain the laugh that bubbled up from my throat. He shot me a glare and swung himself from the sofa in an attempt to stand. He wobbled unsteadily on his feet before crashing to the floor in a mess tangled limbs and fabric. Concern flooded my mind as I ran over to make sure he was ok. I pulled him back up to the couch and gently pressed my hand against his forehead, his skin was burning to the touch and I could feel him shivering beneath me.
"Well I don't think you are dying, but you definitely have a fever at the least." I grabbed his legs and shifted them onto the sofa, grabbing a blanket and draping it over my friend. I slipped into army-doctor mode without even thinking and went hunting for a thermometer. I finally found one that hadn't been used in one of his ridiculous experiments. I also grabbed another blanket from his room as I made my way back to the sitting room. Sherlock was on the floor again, mumbling incoherently. I grabbed him and forced him back on the furniture, ignoring the sounds of protest that came from the weak man.
"John, John I am fine." He mumbled, trying to push away my hands as I placed the blankets over him again.
"A moment ago you were insisting you were dying."
"Well I'm not now!" I flinched as his fingers nearly caught my face. I grabbed his wrists and pinned his arms above his head. He was weak enough that I had no issue containing him.
"Sherlock, you have a fever and I am trying to help you break the damn thing. Now for god's sake just sit still and let me help you!" I felt Sherlock tense beneath my grip as we sat there for a moment, our faces only inches from each other. I rearranged my grip on his hands so I held both of his thin wrists in one of my hands.
"Yes sir, Doctor Watson." Sherlock's voice had deepened into a low growl and he wriggled beneath me, a mischievous smirk on his lips. I glared at him and used my free hand to grab the thermometer. I pressed the device against his lip, expecting to have to fight with him. I was wrong. He parted his lips and used his tongue to pull it in. I swallowed heavily as I watched him, still very aware of how close we were. He maintained eye contact as the device did its job, that smirk never leaving his face. We had been living together for a while now and I knew there was no way he didn't know how I felt about him. The thermometer beeped and I pulled it out, feeling resistance as Sherlock caught it between his teeth briefly before releasing it. He was teasing me and it was working.
"Sherlock, your fever is way too high. If it doesn't break in an hour I am taking you to Emergency." I made sure my tone left no room for argument.
"I like this John." Sherlock's words were slurred and he had a pleased smile on his face. "This John is attractive, spouting orders and all the confidence in the world. It's sexy." I felt a giddy smile cross my lips. I knew he liked it when I pulled rank, but I always assumed that it was because it came in handy. "I also enjoy how, physical this John tends to be." He squirmed underneath me, his words and actions pulling a deep blush across my face. He wasn't wrong, I can remember several times I have slipped into army doctor mode and gotten a bit aggressive, grabbing his hands to assist me with an injured young man or what-not. There really was no need for it; I just enjoyed the feel of his skin.
