it was a tough case. a long, near death, panicing one. sherlock almost got himself killed (again), but john was there to save him (again). they drove greg crazy when he brought them in for their briefing because they just kept screaming at each other. john was mad about sherlock trying to get killed again and sherlock was going on about how he had plotted everything out, but the suspect still got him. cut him right on the cheek bone; a gash going from his hair line almost to his chin. he put them each in different rooms then let other officers handle the briefing, taking a smoke break. he went out and leaned his back against his car, sighing as he took the pack of cigerattes out. he took one out and stuck it between his lips, lighting it then shoving the pack back into his pocket. he relaxed and watched the main door for some angry officer to come out to complain about sherlock or for the boys to come out fighting.
he got neither.
the boys came out exhausted. john had his jacket flung over his shoulder and was sloching as he walked, his eyes baggy from the lack of sleep he was getting from being on a case with sherlock. his shirt had a few blood stains on it, but they were from when he dragged sherlock to safety and put his head in his lap, checking the gash from the swich blade. sherlock looked tired for once in his life. his curls were matted down in oil from not showering in days and his body was struggling to keep itself upright. underneath his eyes were purple and looked like he needed a good hit, so greg took out the carton of cigerattes and offered sherlock one. sherlock gladly took it and the lighter then leaned against the car next to greg, taking a long, hard drag. it took both men by shock when john took a cigeratte, but john just ignored their stares and lit the damn thing taking a eagar drag, needing something to calm his boiling anger.
the three leaned against the car, having a calming smoke break as the nicotine infultrted their system, relaxing their nerves. once greg finished his, he went back inside since he had to keep working, while john and sherlock finished of theirs. nothing was said between the two, but sherlock leaned against john, almost falling asleep with a cigeratte in his mouth. john quit his about halfway through and let sherlock finish his before hailing a cab. you would've thought they were drunk from the way they were stumbling around, but they were just extremly tired. once they were both seated, sherlock instantly fell agaisnt john, falling asleep. john told the driver the adress before falling asleep with sherlock.
when they got home, john discared his jacket and shoes, flopping down on the sofa with a long sigh. he turned on his back and saw sherlock walking to him. the detective laid next to the doctor, but he was pretty much on top of him. john didn't care. he let his friend lay on top of him because he was just too tired. he was too tired to move, he was almost too tired to breath, but he didn't care. he just focused on falling alseep. he felt the detective's shallow breaths against his neck, knowing the man was asleep by now. john wrapped an arm around the twig if a detective, holding him close so he would fall off the sofa. the doctor's eye lids fell shut slowly before falling into a deep sleep with his best friend, tangled together on the sofa.
there was totally nothing gay about that.