The Adventures of the Supernatural Detectives

Vampire Cuddles

Peculiar tales have told over the course of centuries as you know but of course most are homespun by old gentlemen slinging poker chips and lingering with a glass of whiskey in their hands. Although, according to resent reports some say there has been supernatural disturbances of sorts on the streets of London,England. 221B Baker Street to be exact.
Garbage services have put in a note of concern after discovering empty blood bags in the bin and on a few occasions, numerous soiled bandages. On late nights or wee hours in the morning a cloud of bats flying into said resident and the constant disappearance of shiny objects. And last but not least the poor land lady finding fresh donated blood in the refrigerator. The usual.
   Some people right out called it rubbish. Some people who knew the man stated he simply wanted attention or just labeled him strange. That's usually until they need a murder solved then he's labeled bloody brilliant. Oh well,enough blabbering about 'false' tales and such.
   The man's name is Sherlock Holmes. A smile that is a little too sharp but matches his wit. Wavy locks of ink that are usually in disarray from a good chase around London,causing shenanigans most likely. Unfortunately sometimes the shenaniganator gets a little too deep in shenanigans. Then his dear friend John Watson will race over (there will be complications if it's a full moon.) and patch the poor detective's wounds.
   If they are injuries are in a bad state then the good doctor will spare the vampire a little of his blood but only enough to give the pale skin a pink hue. He will watch over him for an hour or so to be sure everything is healing as it should and make sure he sleeping before slipping out to the rooftops. Though Watson always had impeccable control over his wolf side,seeing his vampire laying bloodied and weak in bed angered it greatly. It wouldn't calm until he hunt the very source down and see it was dealt with.
    So far he had gotten lucky with getting away with doing so but his luck just ran out. On a rather cold winter's night he snuck back in through the window,bare as the day he was born and was met a inquisitive gaze. Sherlock was sitting up in bed with an overstuffed pillow at his back his red eyes glassy from the sedative Watson gave him. "Out doing wolfy things,my dearest Watson?"
Caught red handed. "Ah,detective. I'm terribly sorry for waking you... I." Sherlock arched a sleek black brow, most likely using his deduction skills as they spoke. Watson cleared his throat nervously. "What make you assume that?" The vampire attempted to wipe the smirk off his lips with the back of his hand which only caused it to widen. Then the harsh truth  donned on him. He had nothing but a small towel covering the necessities.
"Well,if your lack of clothing is of any indication,then the slight differentiation of your scent and the dazed look in your eyes when you shift is a dead give away."A hot blush seared his skin a lovely scarlet at once. Heavens! How could he be so foolish and forget about the detective's vampiric senses? "Then...then I do hope the smell isn't very bothersome to you,detective."
A deep sultry chuckle rang out from Sherlock. "No it isn't unpleasant in the slightest. However, I can't have you running about chasing all the bad guys. What if you had gotten injured and I wouldn't know to help you?" In all honesty, Watson neglected to think of that. He supposed he didn't have to because after all, he was a werewolf and just as immortal as the vampire himself. "Here,throw this on. It will no doubt be warmer than what you're wearing." Before he knew it Sherlock sent a thick red robe hurdling at him with vampire speed.
Watson caught it with reflexes to match the very price of doing so meant dropping the already struggling towel. An uncharacteristic yelp left Watson as he saw the world crash and burn in the blink of an eye. A soft snicker brought his attention back to the detective. Thankfully, Sherlock was thoughtful enough to cover his eyes with a milky hand. "Go on. I'm not peeking,Watson." The werewolf nodded even though the other could not see the gesture and slipped the robe on with a quickness. "Thank you. I will show myself out as I tidy up a tad."
Sherlock scoffed and dropped the hand. "Absolute nonsense! The bitter cold has already claimed the streets at this hour. It would be a blasted headache to travel all the way home in your tired state. Besides,there is a perfectly good bed right here for the taking." The offer had no right to be so damned tempting. His loft was quite some ways off... Watson hesitantly walked closer to the unused side of the bed,carefully sliding back the myriad of blankets.
   Sherlock gently took the werewolf's wrist and tugged,causing Watson to topple onto the mattress with a soft grunt. "Come now,the bed won't bite." Watson felt a smile quirk his lips as he crawled underneath the thick warm covers. He huffed a sigh of relief as his body unwinded from the day's activities. Why was Sherlock's apartment cozier? Perhaps it was he didn't have to hide his true nature around him or maybe they've known each other for literally centuries.
   "I'm very aware the bed won't bite but what if the vampire?" The stars then alined and the world stopped spinning on its' axis. Sherlock laughed,not the cocky sort or snarky kind but a deep carefree,most joyous sound to ever grace Watson's ears. An honest fangy smiley to boot too. "Yes. I do suppose I bite but only when you're alright with it."
   Sherlock began to shuffle around the top of his bedside table for something that seemed to elude him. Minutes later there was a barely audible click as the electric fireplace sparked to life and almost immediately warmed the room. Sherlock lazily turned the remote in his hand as he watched the fire lick at the fake logs. "Quiet a handy gadget from the modern world don't you think?" He tossed the remote towards the general direction of the table and lay once more on his side. The werewolf nor the vampire didn't utter a word they just simply stared at each other.
   Red eyes meeting green ones with such a peculiar gentleness lingering in them it was scrumptious. Sherlock reached forward and placed his bony hand in his larger one,slipping his finger between Watson's. The werewolf noticed the dark circles underneath scarlet eyes. He let his index finger trace the dark colored flesh under each eye with upmost care. "It has been some time since you've last drank anything,Sherlock. You must be hungry?" Scooting closer to Watson he sighed with contentment.
   "I'd much rather cuddle,your warmth is addictive." He supposed that was him asking because Sherlock rest his forehead against his chest shortly after asking. So divine. This must be heaven to be able to feel something so magnificent and to feel so incredibly whole. Watson buried his hand into thick curls while the other lay against his back, stroking soothingly. "Hmm,did you know your heartbeat is my most favorite song in the entire universe,John."
    Sliding his arms around Sherlock's waist snuggly he pulled him flush against his chest. " If this it too much just let me know. I can get pretty warm." The vampire tangled his long legs with Watson's as a quiet yawn escaped his lips. "No,no this is perfect. You're the only one I like invading my personal space." A toothy grin spread across his face upon hearing this confession. The great Sherlock Holmes enjoys them cuddling together... " Same goes for you,dear detective. Same for you."
   Indeed the weather was ghastly but on the inside of 221B Baker Street, I assure you the two men were quite warm. Inside and out.