Johnlock One Shots

Mine

This is dedicated to keekeebeary for being a wonderful person. You're fantastic!

Sherlock Holmes was an idiot. He was fire and ice and rage. He was a loaded pistol and an itchy finger. He was high cheekbones and he was violin strings. He was calm and brooding, and he was fight and blood.

And he was mine.

Sherlock didn't like sleeping. According to him, it left him exposed. A perfect target for Russian mobsters, Moriarty, and his brother.

But now it was different. About a week after we started dating, I woke up in the middle of the night to find Sherlock slinking into bed, pulling the blankets over to him. "Ah. So you're a blanket hog."

"Yoouwer in te arrrmmy" Sherlock murmured sleepily, slurring his words together from sleep deprivation. "Yoo should bee usdto uncomforble bedds."

Seeing as the chances of my being able to wrench the blankets back out of Sherlock's stubborn grasp, I buried my face into his neck and pulled the blankets so that they covered both of us. He let out a soft,contented moan and curled up like a cat, finally able to get some sleep.

And so we started sharing a bed. Which is how I gained a piece of information that I wouldn't mention until our wedding day, when I was practically obligated to embarrass the living shit out of my lover dearest.

Sherlock talked in his sleep.

It started with soft murmurs, not fully formed words so much as broken sounds, unable to be translated by anyone. But every so often I would here cohesive words. The odd, "red beard," the occasional, "idiots," and most often, "John."

And as Sherlock started getting more relaxed, when the tension drained from his shoulders and he slept peacefully, I could even make out sentences. It was the first time he said those three words. I heard him whisper it, as he pulled me closer. "I love you John."

I smiled, and kissed him lightly, careful not to wake him. "Love you too," I muttered.

Yes Sherlock Holmes was many things. He was an idiot. He was a genius.

And he was mine.