Sherlock Gets Coronavirus

Disclaimer : This is a work of fanfiction regarding characters from Sherlock (BBC). I own nothing.

First drabble synopsis : In the middle of the semi-apocalyptic Coronavirus epidemic, Sherlock gets sick. It's up to John to deal with it.

John came home from the doctor's office at around 4pm, a bit earlier than usual, because Sherlock had made him rush to him for an emergency. Sure, Sherlock's emergencies were never really that urgent, but this time, it could have been about Rosie.
"What happened this time?" said John right after locking the door behind him. "Is Rosie ok?"
"Rosie is fine... But, for precaution, I'm not going to sit anywhere beside her." Said Sherlock, just before letting out a cough in his sleeve. He was lying on the sofa, his beard undone and his hair messy. Little Rosie was on the floor, playing with a stuffed animal and emitting content gurgles.
"What is the emergency then?" John asked in response, confused and curious at the same time. He picked Rosie up.
"I think I have Coronavirus." Sherlock said in all seriousness. "I heard there's a spread of it in UK and I'm sure I caught it from a dead body. I need you to care for me! And keep me away from Rosie because if I pass it to her she'll die."
John gave his roommate a weird look. Coronavirus? Sure, there were already 100 cases in the United Kingdom, but he hardly doubted that Sherlock had actually caught it. It was a rare virus, so it was unlikely.
"Really? You made me leave work because you suspect having Coronavirus?" The shorter man chuckled, unable to keep his seriousness.
"You think this is funny, John? I have a deadly virus, you could lose your most important person and you laugh about it?" Sherlock instantly sat up and shot his best friend a glare. "You, a doctor, should know how deadly this virus is."
"Of course, but I'm sure you don't have it, Sherlock!" John was now laughing out loud. "Just because you have light cough, it doesn't mean it's Coronavirus. I mean, you should have a high fever or something."
Sherlock glared at his friend once again.
"John. This is serious, your daughter is in danger. She's just two years old, she might get sick so I suggest you put her into Molly's care or something, while I quarantine myself here and you stay with me." he said, crossing his arms like a child would do. He then coughed again.
"Well, if you suspect having such virus, why don't you go get checked and, um, stay in isolation so Rosie and I don't run the risk of contagion?" John suggested, playing along a little. Reasoning with Sherlock, once he was convinced of something, was downright impossible.
"But, John, if I go out I will spread the illness to everyone around me. But I just so happen to have a doctor in the house who could treat me himself."
Sherlock replied.
John sighed in frustration, but he smiled nonetheless. "Will you go get tested if I come with you?" he asked.
"No, I already know I have it. Remember, I'm the master of deduction, my dear Watson." said Sherlock.
"Ok then if you truly have Coronavirus, you understand I can't stay within one metre of you and I can't let you near my daughter? So either I leave or you leave." John responded.
Sherlock frowned a little. "I say our little princess Rosie goes." he said.
John was starting to realise just where Sherlock was going, but he still didn't act like he had found him out.
"Ok. I'm sure Mrs Hudson will enjoy her company." said John. He then left with his daughter and came back minutes later, without her.
"Mrs Hudson will keep her as long as we need her to." he said upon returning. He knew that it wasn't going to be that long.
"Perfect." said the taller man, coughing. "Now, come here and care for me."
"Ok, first of all I'm going to check your temperature." the short man said. He left to go to the bathroom, open the cabinet and come back to the living room with a thermometer.
John's expression, as he put the thermometer onto Sherlock's armpit, was so serious and professional that the curly haired man couldn't help but squeal a little inside. He had never found the other man more attractive before.
Sure, his love for him was unmistakable and clearly there but he had never admitted it to him.
He knew he loved him platonically, so he had no idea that all those gazes he'd give him were filled with lingering, romantic thoughts. He preferred to appear as the emotionless Sherlock that John was used to.
"It's a bit cold. Ok, now while I sit here with this device on my underarm, why don't you," cough, "make me something, like a tea, to fight off the virus?"
Damn Sherlock, he was just so cute like that. John preferred him with his beard undone and his hair unkempt, it made him look softer. Not that stiff or cold anymore, just human.
John would often catch himself wondering why he'd chosen to put up with such an individual in his life.
Sherlock was insufferable, his behaviour was childish and psychotic, most of the time, yet... He loved that fool more than his own life.
Sherlock was, in a way, his soulmate, even more than Mary had ever been.
There was just something he had never admitted to him... That he was willing to have a relationship with him that wasn't just platonic. He would often wonder what his lips would feel like under his own...
"Watson, are you alive? Where's my tea?" Sherlock asked, impatient, coughing once again.
Not two minutes later, John was putting the cup of tea in Sherlock's hands.
"Now, after you drink from this cup, I guess we'll have to throw it in the rubbish. It's contaminated with your saliva." said John, acting like an expert.
"I suppose we should. I mean, what if you end up putting this cup in your mouth?" Sherlock responded. As he sipped the tea, he gave John a look.
It was lingering and full of suggestion.
John, however, didn't respond to it and proceeded to remove the thermometer from his friend's underarm, after sitting next to him.
"Wow. You appear to have quite a high fever." he said, looking a bit concerned. He felt Sherlock's forehead with his palm. As he did so, the two men's faces were only inches apart. Sherlock held his breath. It looked as if they were going to kiss...
"John, don't get too close. You don't want Coronavirus." he said, trying to avoid embarrassment.
"Weird. The thermometer says 38. 5 C° but your forehead seems to tell me otherwise." John said in all seriousness.
"What? Impossibile, my deductions show that the two temperatures coincide." Sherlock responded, his eyes widened.
"Then I'm going to have to put you to bed." the older man said. He knew where Sherlock was going and he was going to play with it a little.
Sherlock was a genius, but even geniuses have flaws sometimes. He'd probably thought that John was too old to know the put-thermometer-on-lamp trick.
"Yes, John. Take me to bed!" Sherlock basically threw himself at John and together they stumbled to Sherlock's bed.
John was starting to think that what Sherlock had wasn't even a virus itself, moreover a way to get his attention. He didn't hate it, in all honesty. It felt nice to have moments like that, among fighting, screaming at each other and, sometimes, even ignoring each other for long.
However, that wouldn't stop him from having a bit of fun, either. Sherlock always thought he was invincible and that no one could find out what was on his mind, but John knew him like the back of his hand.
The younger man felt so happy as his friend tucked him under the covers, patted the pillow to make it fuller, and then got a wet cloth to place on his forehead.
He couldn't help but love all the attention he was receiving. It was nice to be cared for, once in a while. Sherlock loved doing things by himself and solving crimes on his own, sometimes, but the company of John Watson would always make everything better. He would never say it, but he just couldn't get enough of him. Every second spent without him was pure anguish and pain, and this, him caring for him, and go as far ad putting him to bed was truly a bliss to him.
"Now, you will stay in bed until Coronavirus leaves you. You get in quarantine. Then I will call an ambulance and get you to the hospital. Because I won't risk getting the virus myself, as much as I care for you." said John, trying to hide a smirk.
Sherlock's eyes widened as he said so.
" Wait, no... Don't take me to Hospital, I need you to stay here with me! I'm going to infect everyone at the hospital!"
"Not if they isolate you. Please, if I get sick it will be a big problem." John said, sighing. His acting skills were a bit rough, but he knew Sherlock would fall for it. After all, he was his weakness.
"You won't get sick." said Sherlock, tugging at John's sleeve. It was clear he didn't want him to leave him there. "You just have to stay one metre away from me."
"I will get sick. You said it yourself, you want to get isolated." John said, as if he was stating the obvious.
"But, I wanted to get isolated with you!" Sherlock almost shouted.
At those words, John blushed violently. He knew what Sherlock had planned, but he still found it a bit overwhelming.
"I'd rather I didn't join you on this. Sherlock, this isn't a joke!" he said. He scratched the back of his neck, awkwardly. There was something, in the air, that he wanted to ignore. But it was so palpable that even Rosie could have seen it.
"John, please, stay with me! It's not fun to be sick by yourself. You know I get bored easily. You don't want me to get a random gun and shoot somewhere, right?" Sherlock pleaded.
He was going to get through with what he had planned, and nothing would have stopped him.
"I'd rather you didn't devaste our house, thank you very much. But I can't, if I get sick I'll get everyone sick, for real. I'm a doctor and people need me and-"
"Not as much as I need you. I need you so much, John.." Sherlock basically murmured. The word John came out in a way that was almost... hot.
John sat still, didn't move a muscle as Sherlock sat up on the bed. The younger man removed the wet cloth from his forehead, and then slowly put it away.
His curls were a bit damp now, which made him look so much better and manlier and something happened at the pits of John's stomach.
"I don't think I have Coronavirus, actually. Oh, I think I have no sickness
at all. It's just acid reflux that made me cough a bit... I just wanted to get you to stay with me because you have no idea how much I've missed you..."
Sherlock's voice was throaty and his eyes were darkening. John swallowed a lump in his throat but couldn't get himself to move away from him. Sherlock was getting closer and closer to him and he found himself unable to breathe.
"You're always busy with work or Rosie and I had to find a way to get your attention." Sherlock confessed.
John, in a very hard way, snapped out of his trance and came back to reality.
"I knew it. But I'd already figured you out, Sherlock Holmes." he responded, rolling his eyes. "You're a fraud."
"But you did it anyway, you cared for me." Sherlock replied, after licking his lips and maintaining eye contact with John.
He knew what he was doing to him and he enjoyed it thoroughly.
"Of course I did, I wanted to tease you a little by playing along. You're the same old Sherlock, always manipulating people... But you've seemed to forget I can predict your every move, now." John gave his response, chuckling softly.
"Oh, no, this is where you're wrong, John. As a matter of fact, there is one thing you didn't predict..."
"What-?" John didn't even have the time to reply, to wonder what detail he'd missed that Sherlock was already locking his lips with his.
It felt weird at first, but it then became soft, sweet and just right. It didn't matter that Sherlock was a man, all that mattered was that he was kissing his soulmate, finally.
Sherlock was smiling in the kiss, feeling so content and proud of himself for finally doing it.
He'd been wanting to do it for so long, ever since he'd started developing feelings for John, but he'd never found the courage to go through with it. The kiss was amazing, just like he'd imagined, full of love and just... John.
John, who was surprised, didn't pull away, he lightly deepened the kiss and
caught hold of Sherlock's soft curls with his fingers, slowly caressing his hair.
When they parted, after a good minute, they were both breathless.
"Wow." John said in a giggle. "That was unexpected."
"Yeah..." Sherlock found it hard to keep himself from smiling like a fourteen year old in love. "Only took the fear of an epidemic to get me to do it."
John rolled his eyes and shook his head. "The same old Sherlock. But tell me, how did you know I wouldn't pull you away abruptly?"
"Because you were basically eyefucking me, Watson. I'd say that it is elementary." Sherlock said like he'd just solved a case.
This time, John couldn't resist his cuteness and attacked his lips for a second kiss.
Coronavirus couldn't hurt them.