This is my first fanfic so constructive criticism would be nice but no hate please. This fanfic is based on the BBC TV Show Sherlock.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sherlock passionately kissed John as they stumbled into the bedroom. John deepened the kiss before being pushed onto his bed. Sherlock soon joined him and their kisses soon became increasingly desperate. He had wanted this for so long. Sherlock stared lovingly at his blogger; he could not resist him any longer and pulled John in once more.
John woke up with a start; he glanced over at the other side of his bed to find it empty. It was just a dream John thought to himself. He searched to find what emotion he was feeling, was it disappointment? Why was he disappointed? I don't love Sherlock he thought. He couldn't love Sherlock, it's just something that Sherlock could and would never feel. The sound of vomiting brought John back to his senses. His brain suddenly clicked. Of course, he thought, Sherlock is ill so that's why I'm feeling like this. It was almost motherly love and being a doctor meant he should care about his patients. He had been trying to look after Sherlock for the last couple of days. Well you could say caring, but it was more of a constant battle. Sherlock insisted he wasn't ill but Doctor John Watson knew better. Sherlock had the early stages of flu and even though he refused to believe it, John knew he would be out if it for a few weeks. John buried his confusing feelings and went into the kitchen.
He managed to find a glass and filled it with water. It was unlikely that Sherlock would accept the water without an argument but it was a risk that John was willing to take. John walked over to the bathroom door before taking a deep breath and opening the door. He instantly saw a very weak looking Sherlock leaning over the toilet seat. John rushed over and tried to give Sherlock the water. Predictably Sherlock refused. "You need it." John began but was soon silenced by Sherlock vomiting. John looked away giving Sherlock a little more privacy. When the vomiting had stopped John passed Sherlock the glass. He cautiously took a few sips.
John knelt down to Sherlock's level. He noticed how pale and sweaty Sherlock was. This wasn't just his normal shade of white this was something a lot paler. John was concerned for his friend. He looked into his eyes to find them full of fear. Sherlock was scared? Of what? John thought.
He was just about to attempt to calm Sherlock down when there was a loud smash. John jumped up and looked down at the floor. He breathed a sigh of relieve, Sherlock had only dropped his glass. John bent down and began carefully clearing up. He looked at Sherlock who began backing up. He reminded John of a scared puppy. "It's alright Sherlock." he began but Sherlock just backed up further. He advanced towards the shaking man. "No, no, don't hurt me. Please." Sherlock whimpered. John backed up slightly and put the broken glass down quietly. He bent back down to Sherlock and began to say "It's alright, I'm not going to hurt you." But Sherlock began to panic and he tried to back up even more but he soon discovered that he was leaning against the bath and couldn't get any further away. John slowly got up and walked out of the bathroom. He was very confused.
What had made Sherlock act like that? Fever did various things to the mind so John didn't think any more of it. He glanced at his watch and decided that he had left Sherlock for long enough. He should have calmed down by now he hoped. John grabbed the dustpan and brush and made his way towards bathroom. What he found in the bathroom was not what he would ever expect to find.