Johnlock Fluff Shots

A Study In Nightmares

 There it was again. The shuffling, the turning, the throwing, the screaming, the whimpers, the many, many sounds that simply destroyed the poor British detectives heart, and they also happened daily, every single night of every single week, and Sherlock just didn't know how to stop them at all. But, that didn't mean he didn't have a particular theory that he'd like to test out, but he was quite fearful and hesitant to apply it, but it wouldn't cause any sort of harm for the both of the males. Hopefully. 

The tall brunette swiftly made his way upstairs and towards John's room, his curly hair bouncing up and down as he walked, his bare feet making small sounds as they hit the floor, his colorful eyes seeming to be devoid of the past glow in them, mostly due to how tired he was. It was the so called ungodly hour of three in the morning after all. Soon enough, he gathered the courage that he needed to clench the door knob tightly, turning it and quickly walking into the room, squishing his eyes close as he heard the creak that John's door made. He'd have to do something about it later. He glanced around the blondes room, seeing pillows being thrown around and the blanket that was supposed to cover John being half onto the bed while the other half was onto the floor, not even covering his foot at this point. Everything was lit up by the light that came from the window, his curtains not being drawn, permitting the soft light of the moon to slip trough his room. 

The detective let out a soft sigh as he picked up the blanket, slowly hunching over the other male, wrapping him around the thick fabric, making him some sort of makeshift cocoon to keep whimpering and turning in every now and then, still not managing to 'destroy' it by the time Sherlock sat down on the others bed, watching him a few minutes. He looked so peaceful, yet so tired due to the complete lack of sleep he obviously had due to the nightmares that he kept having, all of them being about people he loved being ruthlessly killed or tortured right in front of his eyes, or by himself in some cases.He lightly tapped his bare feet against the carpet in the said room, obviously being very hesitant about what his little experiment or theory required to either be debunked or revealed as truth. He slowly snaked his hand near the blonde mans one that was out of his cocoon already, placing his cold, skinny one over the males much warmer and more bulky one, lacing his fingers with the others securely, his pale skin being in a raher rough contrast with Johns tanned skin.

He slowly heard the whimpers fade away, being replaced by soft breathing and occasional twitching of his body, which caused his limp hand to flex and relax ever so often, which made him squeeze the curly haired mans hand, which caused an oddly soft smile to appear on his features. He felt his already half lidded eyes slowly fall closed, trying to fight against the feeling of sleep washing over him, but that was an obviously pitiful attempt at fighting as he soon enough let his limp and half asleep body fall on it's side, their finger still being entwined as the warmth that radiated off of the other male only seemed to make him feel sleepier and sleepier until everything turned dark and he couldn't hear or feel anything. Just utter darkness as he drifted off into a deep sleep.

After a pretty good and well deserved amount of sleep for both of the males, the said blonde ex-soldier woke up from his sleep, only being able to feel a constant warmth next to him, his body attached onto something, his legs and arms being wrapped around the source of warmth, feeling the said source move ever so slightly. As he slowly decided to oped his eyes and discover who was that source, he was sort of happily surprised to see that the body he's attached to so tightly like some sort of leech boy was the body of no other than Sherlock, his legs wrapped around the males waist as his hands were wrapped around his neck, the detectives head being buried into his chest as he slept rather peacefully, just once his face showing complete peacefulness and calmness, unlike the expression he had when he was awake. 

John named it 'Constant Boredom'

John, who in other situations would have rejected even a hug from the detective, saying that 'People might talk.' and that they were already talking, and they shouldn't give the press 'garbage fuel', but right now, his past words and statements being thrown right out of the window as he held the brunette as close as he could, his dazzling blue eyes scanning as much as he could of the males features, noticing how tired he also seemed to be. He always told Sherlock about his nightmares, and he supposed that, that was the cause of his restlessness, which saddened him if he had to be honest. Seeing Sherlock like this wasn't what he wanted to see first thing in the morning, but he also didn't want to see his old nightstand and wall which he saw every single day of his tired mornings. Soon enough, he heard the other shuffle lightly, his cheeks quickly heating up, a dark blush spreading across them as he stared at the other for a few seconds, secretly observing his simply marvelous eyes, enjoying how every color seemed to blend into them. 

How could someone make such an angel as him?

John didn't know, but god did he wish to.

Soon enough, Sherlock just merely nodded at the male, understanding that he obviously didn't seem to want to move even a single inch from the position, merely burying his face into his chest again, wrapping both of his arms around him, inhaling his usual scent of deodorant, old and new books and tea which he spilled on himself on almost every single shirt or jumper that he had. John smiled rather widely at this, merely burying his face into the males soft, curly hair, inhaling his own scent of men's perfume and, a slightly morbid, blood alike scent. Might have sounded weird, but to John it was all so soothing. It calmed him down and smoothed his nerves so quickly and easily.

"Another nightmare?" He suddenly heard the soft, deep voice of the detective ring trough his ears, asking him a pretty easy to answer question, which was secretly a little saddening if he had to be true. He had been having this nightmares constantly, but they did seem to stop today all of a sudden, he guessed it must have been because of the detective. Well, whatever may have been the reason, from John's nightmares to him just being tired, he felt happy that the male decided to sleep with him again. 

"Yeah..." He simply responded, his voice being a little raspy due to only now waking up. Now that we're on that, he didn't even know what time it was, he didn't get a chance to look at the clock on his nightstand since, let's be honest. He was stuck to the detective weather he wanted it or not, and he did want it. 

After that, they simply stayed in silence, but not that very uncomfortable and awkward silence when neither of them knew what else to say, but a rather comfortable one where they both felt like it just needed to be this way. For everything to be silent so they could just take in everything about the situation. The warmth that radiates off of both of them, the soft and affectionate actions that they both offered one another, almost like they both knew that the other just needed them to stay there, to be there, to just feel them and be sure that the other wouldn't leave them so easily.

He almost didn't hear the door creek open, his eyes widening as his already pretty dark cheeks worsened, hearing the voice of a very well known landlady speak up from his doorway.

"Was I interrupting something?"

You wish you were Miss Hudson

You wish you were.