Sherlock oneshots

Johnlock~ Wondering mind

John woke up to the sound of gunshots.

Which, for the record, was not a good sound to wake to.

Not only did it pierce your eardrums and make every minute feel like a hangover, for John it meant that his flat mate, Sherlock Holmes, was board.

He rolled out of bed and groggily made his way downstairs, the shots growing louder and louder as he approached the front room.

"Sherlock, Mrs Hudson Just finished redoing that wall, she's not gunna be very happy when she sees-" he stopped as he reached the room.

Sherlock was lying on his back facing the ceiling, throwing sheets of paper above him and shooting them with his gun. John would have been surprised, but he was more thankful the wall was okay.

"Morning." John SaId calmly, taking a seat in his usual chair. "Good morning!" Sherlock chirped back, throwing another sheet up above himself.

John hummed and picked up the paper, skim reading to find anything interesting. He'd grown custom to ignoring the normal crap the paper wrote about, since that was the stuff he never really needed living with Sherlock.

"Man, 37, kills himself without reason, no note or trace left. His daughter speculated it was her mother, but a day later she too commits suicide." He glanced up from the paper to check for Sherlock's reaction. Course there was none, just another gunshot.

John sighed and continued. "Teen girl kills her friend in the woods, possible sacrificial intentions?" He looked up again, meeting Sherlock's disapproving gaze.

He threw the paper onto his lap and lent back in the chair, sighing out hard. He hated when Sherlock was bored, not because of the shooting the wall or constant complaining, it was because when Sherlock was bored John could see what other people saw him as. A machine, cold and distant.

And that wasn't the Sherlock he knew.

The sound of a gunshot woke John from his mind wander, causing him to jolt and jump to sit straight, which Sherlock seemed to notice.

"You Alright?" Sherlock asked, looking over the chairs arm to meet Johns gaze. John nodded hesitantly before getting to his feet and going into the kitchen.

"Tea?" He called, the sound of the kettle bubbling following. Sherlock placed his gun down gently on the table and rolled over, then got up.

John was facing the kitchen wall, completely zoned out with a look of worry on his face. Why would he think that? Sherlock, his Sherlock, a machine? No. No of course not, that was just a paranoid brain fart. He didn't actually think that... right?

Suddenly John felt someone wrap their arms around his shoulders, pulling him in from his back to a gentle hug.

Silence filled the room as the kettle finished boiling.

"I'm sorry I scared you." Sherlock's voice finally filled the room, clearing Johns proactive thoughts. "Sherlock, you're hugging me." He murmured, almost in shock, though he wasn't sure if that was how he sounded.

"I was worried, you're not normally afraid of my bored mannerisms." He said calmly, running his lanky fingers across Johns shoulder blade. "And you always say that your mother's hugs made you feel better."

John let his neck give way, leaning back into Sherlock's embrace. "Y-Yeah." He sighed.

He loved Sherlock so dearly , maybe that was why he was so hurt when his mind wondered into thinking bad of him. He really adored Sherlock. Really, really I'm not gay!

Yet even when that thought hit is mind, he still wanted nothing more than to stay in Sherlock's arms.

"Feeling better?" Sherlock asked in a hush. John sighed and nodded. Sherlock went to release his grip, but John quickly grabbed his wrists to keep him in place.

"Please don't." John whined. Pulling his arms back to the original position. Sherlock followed his request and pulled his short friend into the hug, resting his chin on his head.

"Sure you're alright John?" He asked. John didn't reply at first, he was again deep in thought.

"I am now." He said quietly. "Thank you." Sherlock chuckled and squeezed John a little.

It was moments like this that set Johns mind straight again. Sherlock wasn't a machine , he wasn't cold or distant, he was just different. John liked different, especially when it came to Sherlock.

Not great full on ship stuff, just something that warmed my heart with fluff UwU