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flawedamythystThis is not even a little bit any of the things I'm meant to be working on. Some things never change, eh?
Title: Sleep And Understanding
Rating: PG
Pairing: Asexual!Sherlock/John
Word Count: 1,214 words
Summary: Sherlock stood outside John's bedroom door, fingertips pressed against the wood. (Horse And Carriage 'verse. Masterlist is here.)
A/N: Set a few days after Respect And Affection, five years after their marriage.
Sherlock stood outside John's bedroom door, fingertips pressed against the wood. This had seemed so simple when he had decided to come up but now that he was here, ready to take the final step, something was holding him back.
Stupid, he told himself. John had expressly invited him - if you ever wanted to come up and sleep in my room, you're always welcome. That had been several days ago, at the beginning of what had turned out to be a beautifully convoluted case, and Sherlock had had no chance to even think about taking John up on his offer. They'd finally brought the criminal to justice that afternoon, though, and now there was no reason for him to stay awake, pacing the sitting room as he thought, or to nap on the sofa where he could grab his phone quickly in case of sudden inspiration.
John and his bed lay just the other side of the door, warm and giving off that scent that always made the last of Sherlock's tension seep out of his muscles. All he had to do was open the door to take advantage of it, but somehow he just couldn't bring himself to turn the handle. He thought about turning around and going back down to his own bedroom, and something in his stomach sank. He wanted this, wanted to curl up around John's tranquil body and let the quiet rhythm of his breath soothe him into sleep.
He'll be asleep, he told himself. You can creep in without him knowing, and you know you'll be awake before he will. John had declared himself completely exhausted earlier when he'd gone up to bed. After the last few days they'd had, Sherlock hadn't been a bit surprised. If you're careful, he'll never even know you were there. There's no reason for this cowardice.
He drew all his courage together, told himself again that he was being an idiot and turned the handle, slipping inside and giving his eyes a moment to adjust to the gloom.
John shifted, then turned over, blinking sleepy eyes at him, and Sherlock froze under his gaze. Of course he'd wake up if someone came in. Sherlock wondered if he should blame the Army, or his own tendency to invade John's room in the middle of the night if he needed something for a case or an experiment, then dismissed the thought as irrelevent. John just looked at him, clearly too close to sleep still to phrase the question that was doubtless running through his mind.
This is the part where I explain my presence, thought Sherlock, but couldn't bring himself to open his mouth. Somehow, the idea of putting his desire to fall asleep tucked against John into words seemed impossible. They'd never actually acknowledged anything about this sort of thing out loud and Sherlock was more than happy to keep it that way. He rather thought that the habits they had fallen into and the occasional unspoken gestures said all there was to say, especially as Sherlock still wasn't sure that he had words that could fully express what he thought and felt about the whole matter.
There was an awkward few moments where they just looked at each other, then John's face creased into a smile, and he pulled a hand out of the covers just enough to gesture at Sherlock. “Come on, then,” he said, sleep thickening his voice.
Sherlock didn't need a second invite. He shut the door behind him and took three quick steps over to the bed, sliding under the duvet to nestle in against John's body.
“Christ, you're cold,” muttered John, but a second later his arm was wrapped around Sherlock, pulling him even closer. Sherlock let out a long exhale and felt himself melt down against John. Just what he had wanted, and so much better than another night alone in his room.
“You better sleep for more than a couple of hours,” murmured John, his breath tickling against Sherlock's shoulder. “I'm not putting up with you being grumpy tomorrow.”
Sherlock allowed himself a snort. “I'm never grumpy.”
John made a scoffing noise, but didn't bother to speak. A few minutes later, Sherlock felt the rhythm of John's breathing slide into the pattern he already had memorised. His own eyes fell shut and he smiled to himself as he followed John down into sleep. They really didn't need words to make everything between them crystal clear.
****
John's first thought when he saw Sherlock in the doorway was Oh god, please don't let there have been another murder. The case they'd just finished had been lots of fun, and Sherlock had been amazing whilst solving it, but they both really needed at least one night off before plunging into the next one. Sherlock had barely slept at all, to the point where John had started to worry that he was just going to keel over with exhaustion.
Sherlock didn't immediately demand he get dressed, or start excitedly detailing crime scene details though, he just froze in the doorway and stared at John as if he had no idea what he was doing there.
It took John longer than it should have to remember the offer he'd made several days ago now. If you ever wanted to come up and sleep in my room, you're always welcome. Sherlock's machinations to make sure they always had to share a bed when they stayed in hotels or B&Bs had got increasingly obvious over the years, to John's quiet amusement. After Sherlock had kissed him under the mistletoe, it seemed silly not to make it clear that he didn't need to bother with such games because he was welcome wherever John was, even when he was asleep.
And now he was here to take John up on that, and looking horribly nervous about the whole thing. John couldn't hold in a smile as he pulled his hand out from under the duvet to beckon to him. Sherlock typically rushed in everywhere without giving a damn what people thought about it. What did it say about how little he wanted to upset John that he hesitated now, even after John had made the offer?
“Come on, then,” he prompted.
Sherlock wasted no time after that. He was in bed and curled around John before John had a chance to move back and make more room for him.
Sherlock was cold enough to make it clear that he hadn't made it into his bed yet, and John found himself putting an arm around him to pull him in closer, wanting to warm him up. Funny, he'd always thought that if he got married, he'd be the husband with cold feet that got complained about.
“You better sleep for more than a couple of hours,” he said as his eyes closed. “I'm not putting up with you being grumpy tomorrow.” That, and he always enjoyed waking up to find Sherlock beside him. It was nice to know he was close and safe, at least for the moment.
“I'm never grumpy,” said Sherlock, which was such utter rubbish that John didn't bother replying. He just let himself fall asleep again, relaxing into Sherlock's embrace and hoping this was going to become a common occurrence.
****
Next Part of this 'verse: Crime And Commitment
*
Title: Sleep And Understanding
Rating: PG
Pairing: Asexual!Sherlock/John
Word Count: 1,214 words
Summary: Sherlock stood outside John's bedroom door, fingertips pressed against the wood. (Horse And Carriage 'verse. Masterlist is here.)
A/N: Set a few days after Respect And Affection, five years after their marriage.
Sherlock stood outside John's bedroom door, fingertips pressed against the wood. This had seemed so simple when he had decided to come up but now that he was here, ready to take the final step, something was holding him back.
Stupid, he told himself. John had expressly invited him - if you ever wanted to come up and sleep in my room, you're always welcome. That had been several days ago, at the beginning of what had turned out to be a beautifully convoluted case, and Sherlock had had no chance to even think about taking John up on his offer. They'd finally brought the criminal to justice that afternoon, though, and now there was no reason for him to stay awake, pacing the sitting room as he thought, or to nap on the sofa where he could grab his phone quickly in case of sudden inspiration.
John and his bed lay just the other side of the door, warm and giving off that scent that always made the last of Sherlock's tension seep out of his muscles. All he had to do was open the door to take advantage of it, but somehow he just couldn't bring himself to turn the handle. He thought about turning around and going back down to his own bedroom, and something in his stomach sank. He wanted this, wanted to curl up around John's tranquil body and let the quiet rhythm of his breath soothe him into sleep.
He'll be asleep, he told himself. You can creep in without him knowing, and you know you'll be awake before he will. John had declared himself completely exhausted earlier when he'd gone up to bed. After the last few days they'd had, Sherlock hadn't been a bit surprised. If you're careful, he'll never even know you were there. There's no reason for this cowardice.
He drew all his courage together, told himself again that he was being an idiot and turned the handle, slipping inside and giving his eyes a moment to adjust to the gloom.
John shifted, then turned over, blinking sleepy eyes at him, and Sherlock froze under his gaze. Of course he'd wake up if someone came in. Sherlock wondered if he should blame the Army, or his own tendency to invade John's room in the middle of the night if he needed something for a case or an experiment, then dismissed the thought as irrelevent. John just looked at him, clearly too close to sleep still to phrase the question that was doubtless running through his mind.
This is the part where I explain my presence, thought Sherlock, but couldn't bring himself to open his mouth. Somehow, the idea of putting his desire to fall asleep tucked against John into words seemed impossible. They'd never actually acknowledged anything about this sort of thing out loud and Sherlock was more than happy to keep it that way. He rather thought that the habits they had fallen into and the occasional unspoken gestures said all there was to say, especially as Sherlock still wasn't sure that he had words that could fully express what he thought and felt about the whole matter.
There was an awkward few moments where they just looked at each other, then John's face creased into a smile, and he pulled a hand out of the covers just enough to gesture at Sherlock. “Come on, then,” he said, sleep thickening his voice.
Sherlock didn't need a second invite. He shut the door behind him and took three quick steps over to the bed, sliding under the duvet to nestle in against John's body.
“Christ, you're cold,” muttered John, but a second later his arm was wrapped around Sherlock, pulling him even closer. Sherlock let out a long exhale and felt himself melt down against John. Just what he had wanted, and so much better than another night alone in his room.
“You better sleep for more than a couple of hours,” murmured John, his breath tickling against Sherlock's shoulder. “I'm not putting up with you being grumpy tomorrow.”
Sherlock allowed himself a snort. “I'm never grumpy.”
John made a scoffing noise, but didn't bother to speak. A few minutes later, Sherlock felt the rhythm of John's breathing slide into the pattern he already had memorised. His own eyes fell shut and he smiled to himself as he followed John down into sleep. They really didn't need words to make everything between them crystal clear.
John's first thought when he saw Sherlock in the doorway was Oh god, please don't let there have been another murder. The case they'd just finished had been lots of fun, and Sherlock had been amazing whilst solving it, but they both really needed at least one night off before plunging into the next one. Sherlock had barely slept at all, to the point where John had started to worry that he was just going to keel over with exhaustion.
Sherlock didn't immediately demand he get dressed, or start excitedly detailing crime scene details though, he just froze in the doorway and stared at John as if he had no idea what he was doing there.
It took John longer than it should have to remember the offer he'd made several days ago now. If you ever wanted to come up and sleep in my room, you're always welcome. Sherlock's machinations to make sure they always had to share a bed when they stayed in hotels or B&Bs had got increasingly obvious over the years, to John's quiet amusement. After Sherlock had kissed him under the mistletoe, it seemed silly not to make it clear that he didn't need to bother with such games because he was welcome wherever John was, even when he was asleep.
And now he was here to take John up on that, and looking horribly nervous about the whole thing. John couldn't hold in a smile as he pulled his hand out from under the duvet to beckon to him. Sherlock typically rushed in everywhere without giving a damn what people thought about it. What did it say about how little he wanted to upset John that he hesitated now, even after John had made the offer?
“Come on, then,” he prompted.
Sherlock wasted no time after that. He was in bed and curled around John before John had a chance to move back and make more room for him.
Sherlock was cold enough to make it clear that he hadn't made it into his bed yet, and John found himself putting an arm around him to pull him in closer, wanting to warm him up. Funny, he'd always thought that if he got married, he'd be the husband with cold feet that got complained about.
“You better sleep for more than a couple of hours,” he said as his eyes closed. “I'm not putting up with you being grumpy tomorrow.” That, and he always enjoyed waking up to find Sherlock beside him. It was nice to know he was close and safe, at least for the moment.
“I'm never grumpy,” said Sherlock, which was such utter rubbish that John didn't bother replying. He just let himself fall asleep again, relaxing into Sherlock's embrace and hoping this was going to become a common occurrence.
Next Part of this 'verse: Crime And Commitment
*
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Date: 2011-10-09 03:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-10-09 11:00 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2011-10-09 11:03 pm (UTC)Thank you!
So perfect, but why so short?
Date: 2011-10-09 10:14 pm (UTC)I think it broke my heart a little when I saw the word count :(
You snuggle-tease, you...
What I actually mean to say is, thank you for writing.
Don't hold back if you wish to write some more ;)
Re: So perfect, but why so short?
Date: 2011-10-09 11:04 pm (UTC)Thanks for the comment, I'm glad you enjoyed it.
no subject
Date: 2011-10-11 04:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-10-09 11:02 pm (UTC)They really don't, do they? Thanks for this, I really like imagining them this way. I love how Sherlock's all awkward about things and John is just pragmatic. As they would be. Adorable, both of them :)
And now I need to read the rest of that 'verse.
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Date: 2011-10-09 11:07 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2011-10-10 11:34 am (UTC)Thank you!
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Date: 2011-10-10 03:02 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2011-10-13 01:14 am (UTC)thank you
Date: 2011-10-11 08:30 pm (UTC)Re: thank you
Date: 2011-10-13 01:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-10-19 04:19 pm (UTC)This is a lovely unrushed piece. You've captured Sherlock's uncertainty and John's sleepy acceptance so well.
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Date: 2012-04-18 12:02 pm (UTC)