John's P.O.V:
My head is banging. It feels as though there is a brass band preforming inside my skull. Why do I do this to myself? Holy Shit. I have never felt this rough in my entire life, and I've been shot!
Hang on a minute. This isn't my bed. This is... I'M IN SHERLOCKS ROOM!
Oh my God, of course... The memories of last night came flooding back to me in an instant, our conversation in the door way, Sherlock escorting me to his bed... Sherlock. Where is he? I sat up in an instant scanning the room before a barely audiable grumble sounded from next to me. I looked down to see Sherlock stirring in his sleep.
OH
MY
GOD
I am in bed with Sherlock Holmes, he had practically undressed me and put me to bed, before he joined me here. I do hope Mrs. Hudson doesn't come looking for us, then again she went a bit heavy on the wine last night too... She won't surface for hours. I decided it would be best to lay back down, beside Sherlock, as though I had never awoken. I laid on my side to face him, our noses almost touching. I stayed there for at least an hour, he was so beautiful when he was sleeping, he was almost angelic. So innocent, opposed to the usual hard faced Sherlock. Eventually the detectives eyelids began to flutter, they opened revealing his beautiful eyes which made direct contact with my own. He did his best to grumble "Good morning, John" before throwing the sheets back over me and placing his arm over me in the process.
I blushed, making Sherlock turn up the corners of his mouth. "I do hope you don't often stare at me while I sleep" he threw a wink in my direction. I couldn't help but reach out towards him placing my hand on his chest. His bare chest, sweet baby Jesus, the man was topless. I could feel the cool skin of his torso shiver as I ran my fingertips over the muscles that ripled beneath his skin. The only words I could muster were "I do hope Mrs Hudson doesn't walk in now, imagine the rumours..." Sherlock deep throaty laugh shook the bedframe as he snuggled in closer. "and what would those rumours be John?" He barely whispered my name before he threw himself out of the bed and strode across the room to his chest of drawers. He bent down to retrieve fresh underwear from the bottom drawer and the sunglight that crept through the curtains shone onto his back and I could see every single vertebrate that made up his spine. He had always been a skinny man, but quite recently he had eaten even less and I'm afraid now Moriarty is back, he'll continue to neglect his food. My mind drifted as Sherlock made his way into the bathroom to change his underwear. Before I knew it he was back in the bedroom standing infront of his wardrobe, stooped over once more. Before I even had time to stare at his behind he had spun around to face me, arms outstretched, thrusting a package towards me.
It was a present. For me?
YOU ARE READING
Eastern Winds (JohnLock)
FanfictionSherlock had a lucky escape after Mycroft summoned his brother back to England since Moriarty has returned. The only thing Sherlock has been able to think about is not about Moriarty but his blogger, John Watson.
