Please, I'm Dutch. English is not my native language. I just want to remind you, since someone was annoyed with my English. Imagine writing a book in another language. It's not always easy for me. So please, if you see any mistakes, let me know please :)

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Sherlock gave John the keys to two two one B Bakerstreet, demanding the doctor to take a hot shower. Sherlock's flat was closer and so they could talk after he was done working. John accepted his offer with pleasure.

John arrived at his flat. He silently ascended the stairs, not wanting to wake up Mrs Hudson. He smiled. The smile didn't leave his face for a second. He felt so relieved about tonight. John needed to have a drink with Robin sometime, thanking him for today.

John opened the door that led to the flat. He sighed contently and closed the door behind him. His eyes immediately spotted the kettle standing on the counter. He licked his bottom lip. Tea would be very welcome now. John was still soaked and it felt like his toes were going to fall off. John peeled off his jacket and hung it over a chair so it could dry. He decided to shower first before making a cuppa.

He walked inside Sherlock's bedroom and opened his wardrobe. His clothes were wet. He couldn't take a shower to warm himself up and jump back in his wet clothes. So he decided to grab some of Mr Holmes's clothes. He picked a simple white t-shirt and a loose brown pyjamas trousers. It's too big for him. But he didn't care.

He walked into the bathroom and placed the clothes on the lid of the toilet. He then turned on the shower, letting the water run until it began to steam. While waiting, he stripped down.

He stepped into the shower and let the steam kiss his face. He let the water run down his shoulder, running down his body, hugging him in a blanket of warmth. John then grabbed a washcloth and wets it under the shower spray, and pumped out a handful of shampoo on his hand. The smell was amazing, it was like he had Sherlock on his hands and now on his hair. He rinsed off 'Sherlock'and picked up the body wash and put some on his hand. He smoothed the soap over his skin, lathered it in, and then rinsed off. After he finished, he just stood there for a moment, his eyes remaining closed. He smiled slightly as he started to think about Sherlock. His hands moved to his belly, holding it because he felt the butterflies fluttering in his tummy again. He felt like a teenager. And he loved it.

John stepped out of the shower and wrapped him in a warm fluffy towel that hung over the edge of the shower. He then dried himself and ruffled his hair with the towel and pulled on Sherlock's too big clothes. John emerged the bathroom, entering the kitchen. He turned on the kettle with a yawn. He was getting really tired. It was a long exhausted day. John gazed at the clock. It was past twelve already. He didn't want to sleep. He needed to touch those lips again, fall asleep in Sherlock's arm. He smiled at the thoughts. He grabbed a red mug and poured the boiling water into the mug. He then put a tea bag in it. He usually don't drink tea with sugar. But this time he did. Maybe it helps him to stay awake.

He strolled to the armchair and sat himself down. He sipped from the tea, grunting with appreciation. His eyes flickered to the TV remote lying on a small table at his side. He grinned, leaning to the left and grabbed it. He turned on the TV, flicking through some channels until he found a documentary that took his attention. He also wrapped himself in a blanket.

John was fighting off sleep. His eyelids kept drooping over his eyes, only to snap open again. It was 01:16 now. John wondered where Sherlock was staying. John couldn't focus any longer and soon enough he drifted asleep.

Thirty minutes later John frowned unconsciously as he heard noises. He shifted a bit, the noises weren't loud enough to make him fully awake.

"John." Someone whispered.

"Hmmm." John groaned and rolled away from the voice. Sherlock chuckled, his fingers running through John's hair gently. He then removed the blanket away from John. His eyes widened before the corner of his lips turned upwards in a shy smile as he saw John wearing his clothes.

"John let's get you to bed." Sherlock said warmly.

"Hmm." John replied once again, unaware of the situation. Sherlock rolled his eyes and pulled at John's arm, pulling him upwards. He squeezed his arms and sighed as John didn't want to wake up completely. Sherlock then smirked.

"John." He yelled. John's eyes shot open. It took him a second to focus, but he quickly locked onto Sherlock's eyes and smiled.

"You're late." He slurred, gazing down and taking Sherlock's hand in his, their hands fitting like a puzzle. Sherlock hummed.

"I know sorry." Sherlock apologized. "But it was worth it. It's not solved yet. But I'm closer." He said proudly and placed a lingering kiss on John's lips. "Let's go to sleep." He said gently. The doctor nodded and accepted the offering hand from Sherlock. They wandered to the hallway, Sherlock telling John that he'd be there in a moment. He wanted to refresh himself quickly at the sink.

John slide under the duvet contently, wrapping himself tightly in it. A moment later Sherlock entered the room silent. Being quiet for in case John was sleeping already. But of course he wasn't. A faint blush warmed John's cheeks.

"I'm still awake idiot." He mumbled on the cushion. Sherlock huffed.

"You like calling me an idiot do you?" Sherlock said as he approached the other side of the bed, sliding under the duvet as well. Sherlock was wearing his pyjamas and a blue dressing gown.

"That's because you are." There was still a pink tint to his cheeks when he smiled at Sherlock.

"Hmm." Sherlock sighed thoughtful. "That makes me your idiot then." Sherlock added, shifting closer to John. John smiled as he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Sherlocks. Sherlock pulled him closer. Both their eyes shutting at the feeling of one another's lips. After a couple seconds they pulled back.

"I never thought you'd be such a charmer." John said, pressing his chest to Sherlocks and wrapping his arms around his bony waist, burying his head into Sherlock's neck. Sherlock instantly cuddled up closer, as if to steal the warmth from John, his nose buried in John's hair. Sherlock smiled and kissed the top of his head.

"I agree." Sherlock muttered. John chuckled.

"Good night Sherlock." He said, gently running his fingers over his chest.

"Night John."