A Study In Sleep

Chapter. 6

John's smile dropped as soon as Greg left. Listening to his words of wisdom,  he still felt like he couldn't bring himself to do it. He looked back to the hallway and then back to his cup for a moment, before standing up with a sigh. Still uncertain as he took his cup into the kitchen, pouring out its contents before placing it on the side next to Greg's.

Questions and thoughts overlapped in his mind, as he began boiling the kettle. The horrid noise of the water boiling, reminding him that he was alone in the kitchen.
"How would I even-" he began talking to himself, shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose, "oh your eyes look... beautiful.. no, that doesn't sound right..." he muttered as if he was talking to another person, sighing once more as he tried to rephrase it, "you're eyes are- like the sea after a storm... what the-" he blinked a little, not believing he was actually going this.

The smashing of one of the mugs and the kettle finishing brought him back to reality, almost making him jump before cursing to himself, "oh, for fuck sake.." he muttered. The shattering of the porcelain mug being very loud.

Sherlock instantly woke at the sound of something smashing, lifting his head as he sleepily looked around. He soon got out of bed, stumbling to his bedroom door as he opened it, sleepily heading for the kitchen with heavy, dazed footsteps. His sleepy blue eyes locked on John and the broken mug, frowning a little.
“John? What’s happening?” He huskily mumbled, voice incredibly thick and warm from sleep as he stood the other side of the kitchen.

Sherlock’s curls were a wild mess, one cheek red from where he had slept on one side. His pyjama top was ruffled up, showing a slight piece of his abdomen and he just had the most relaxed and pure expression on his face as he gazed over to his blogger.

Johns heart couldn't help but melt,in his chest, at the sight of this. He gave a slight nervous smile, "I accidentally smashed a mug.." he replied, rubbing the back of his neck slightly, "y-you can go back to sleep if you want, it was just an accident.. I didn't mean to wake you.." he stammered over his words slightly, keeping his eyes low as he went into the kitchen cupboard to get the mess cleaned up, clearing his throat slightly as he did. Feeling as if the room had gotten hotter all of a sudden, "sorry.." he murmured slightly.

Sherlock sleepily gazed over to John, hearing the stammering and the small 'sorry' and he took a few sleepily steps closer, clicking on the kettle for himself as he began to make his own tea.
“Something.. is.. is bothering you and don’t deny it, I can see it in... in your eyes..” he yawned softly as he stood there beside him, t-shirt still ruffled upwards and curls a wild mess, the taller man not even caring. He was more worried about John, a man... he cared for more than anything.

"It's probably the lack of sleep.." John answered, a little more calmly as he swept up the bits of mug. As he kept his head down, feeling his cheeks blushing pink, "tiredness can cause lack of concentration, grouchiness and other things.." he spoke, not wanting to admit the reason for why the mug had actually fallen and smashed onto the floor. "You look like you had a good sleep.. dream of anything?" He asked curiously, glancing up for a second to look at those gorgeous curls.

“Then go to bed, doctor. You just diagnosed yourself.” Sherlock replied as he headed to the fridge, grabbing the milk before heading back to the side where John was and Sherlock’s eyes widened a little as John asked this, pausing in his steps. He then noticed the blogger glancing up to his curls, Sherlock doing the same before he suddenly became self conscious.
“What? What’s wrong with my hair?” He panicked, the man not normally being like this but John’s opinion meant more to him than anyone else’s. A hand came to his curls, rushing through them as he tried to sort them out but instead made them worse and much more messy.

"What? No?.. no, nothing's wrong with your hair.. your hair's..." John paused as he finished cleaning up and standing up, looking at the detective with a little smile, he shook his head slightly, before moving them back to the way they were, "your hair's divine.." he said, hoping that didn't sound as odd as he thought it did. Noticing he was pretty close to the detective, he kept his gaze fixed with Sherlock's as he kept his hand where it was, for the moment. Gazing into those eyes of the detective's, marbled with blue and green. Looking absolutely-
"Mesmerising.." he murmured, his gaze flashing to those soft cupid bow lips.

The detective immediately froze as John began to brush back his curls, the smallest confused frown on his brow as he locked eyes on John. However the words that fell from his lips about his curls being ‘divine’ made him frown deeper, opening his mouth to say something but no words formed. He noticed their close proximity, plus their gazes fixed on one another, Sherlock not knowing what to say or do as he stood there. The second word which fell from John’s lips as he looked in his eyes made him gasp a little before he noticed John’s eyes flicker to his lips, the whole situation new but certainly not unwelcome. Sherlock didn’t utter a word, frozen to the spot and utterly lost in the man stood closely before him.

That moment was when their lips met in a soft touch. He kissed him and the world fell away. It was slow and soft, comforting almost... His hand resting upon the detective's jawline, his thumb caressing his cheek as their breaths mingled. His eyes closed and cheeks incredibly hot.

But that was when he felt nothing. No feeling nor touch anymore and he opened his eyes again, noticing he hadn't even knocked over the mug and had neither woken the sleeping detective. Still hearing his soft snores through the paper-like walls.

"Just my imagination.." he muttered to himself sadly, shaking his head. It had felt so real, so passionate, so- he couldn't believe he was even thinking about it. He rubbed his face, once more, before heading to the sofa before laying on it. His head resting on one of the cushions as he fell asleep. If only he didn't feel so terrified.