Oneshots

Cold (Johnlock)

A/n: Yeah, yeah, I know, this is basically just a Johnlock book. But in my defence, I am kinda obsessed...

Anywhoo.

Um, Merry Christmas, again.

Oh, it's actually the next day. Huh.

Merry Day-after-Christmas.

WARING: FLUFF LIKE WHOA. SERIOUS CAVITY WARNING.

TS

oOo

John shivered slightly for the thousandth time tonight under his duvet and many blankets. The heater chose today, of all days, to be broken.

It may be the day after Christmas, but still.

His shivers were lessening, though.

Suffice it to say, it was freezing in 221B. Which is why a certain consulting detective decided to appear in John's doorway, shivering violently, and climbed into John's bed with John. Sherlock muttered something about 'body heat' and snuggled closer, making John blush.

"Uhm, Sherlock?" John asked, but Sherlock seemed to be asleep. John wiggled (A/n: Wiggle Wiggle Wiggle *whoowhoowhoo whoo whoo whoo*) to try and get out of his grip, but Sherlock was stronger than he originally thought. Sherlock's death grip tightened to the point where John could barely breathe.

"Sher. Lock." John managed, wriggling. The wriggling finally woke Sherlock up. He yawned silently.

"Mm?" he asked.

"Can't...breathe..." John choked,  turning red.

"Oh, sorry," Sherlock muttered in a rich, just-woke-up voice. He released his hold on his blogger. John gasped and took deep breaths, his normal color returning.

"Quite a grip...you've got," John said when he had regained his breath.

"Sorry," Sherlock muttered again in the same voice. Sherlock yawned, once again snuggling into John again with a lot less pressure.

"Much better," John commented. He looked up and he could've sworn Sherlock actually smiled.

"I just...don't want you to leave," the half-awake sleuth admitted, closing his eyes.

John yawned. "Oh, I won't, I promise." He was quite comfortable here, and it was really cold out there. Plus, Sherlock positively radiated heat. "Here is good, thanks."

They both fell asleep completely content.