Tis midnight and I am just starting this so it might be super short and bad, oop. You have been warned.

Warnings: is sleeplessness caused by low level anxiety a trigger? If so, there is that:)

Word count: 525 (told you it would be short)

"What do you want?" John's voice was tired as he cracked open his puffy eyes to look at the figure loitering in his bedroom doorway.
"I can't sleep." The detectives voice was slightly sheepish and childlike.
"Ok, what time is it?" He reached for his bedside light as he asked this and turned it on, wincing slightly at the sudden light that flooded to room, that, although soft and golden, was still a stark contrast to the black darkness from a moment before that was broken only by the hall light filtering in around Sherlock's silhouette.
"Midnight."
"It's only midnight? I thought you usually didn't go to bed till later than this anyway."
"Well I was trying to sleep at a normal time for once in my life and I couldn't. And now I'm cold and scared." John propped himself up on his elbow and wiped sleep from his eyes in order to get a better look at his flatmate.

John had begun going to sleep at 11 as he was exhausted. They had been on a case the past few days and neither of them had got much, if any, sleep during thay time. He had finally dozed off, after awhile of overactive thinking, about 15 minutes ago so he was slightly perturbed by being awaken just as he had begun to sleep. His brain felt foggy and inactive but his concern for his friend over powered the feeling of tired annoyance.

"Scared? Why on earth were you scared?"
"Because I... I.." a sudden sob wracked Sherlock's body and he folded over in the doorway like a paper flower squashed in anger that the final petal had ripped. John's heart wrenched at these signs of clear distress from his friend and he patted the bed beside him.
"Come here Sherlock." Sherlock obeyed, relief washing over his anxious features as he settled himself next to his friend. The doctor wrapped his arms round the still shaking taller man and held him tightly to his chest.

"What's wrong Sherlock?" His voice was soft and comforting and he stroked his curly hair as he spoke.
"I... I don't want to talk about it." Sherlock murmured quietly, "Can we just cuddle? Please?" John nodded and continued to gently stroke his hair.
"Of course my dear, you can tell me whenever you feel comfortable or we can just stay like this until you fall asleep?" He offered warmly. Sherlock snuggled down further into John's chest and sighed gently, his breathing beginning to even out and his heart rate slowing.
"I'd like that."

And so there they stayed, John gently stroking Sherlock's hair and whispering sweet nothings to him as Sherlock listened peacefully, his eyelids growing heavier and heavier until he was fast asleep and gently shuffling against John's chest. He smiled gently to himself and reached over to switch if the light before pulling the duvet further over them both and returning to slumber himself, his arms still wrapped firmly around the person he loved more than anyone else in the world.

The end

I hope that was ok. I'm super tired and this only took 20 minutes so its probably super bad but oh well, hopefully it was marginally enjoyable. Ok, I'm shattered from seeing my grandparents so ima sleep. I actually got to have a lunch from a cafe today sat on their outdoor seating for the first time in months which was exciting and I saw some beautiful daffodils and a lovely river in a wood plus grandparents so all in all, I've had a thoroughly lovely day. I hope your days have been lovely too, bye bye,
Isabella
🐹🐹❤🧡💛💚💙💜

Ps. I'm too tired to be inspirational and shiz so just be kind and all that jazz. Also life is great sometimes so hold onto that and similar sentiments. Goodnight my dudes