Work Text:
John woke from his doze, stretching his stiff shoulder. Glancing over at the couch, he saw Sherlock sleeping peacefully. Laughing to himself, he took the remote and switched off the talking heads nattering on inanely on the telly.
Carding his hand through the still thick, but now silver hair of his husband, he gently woke Sherlock.
“Sleeping on the couch won’t do your back one bit of good, love.”
“Not sleeping – I was in my Mind Palace”
John grinned at the fabrication.
“Falling asleep in front of the telly – you’d think we were an old married couple”.
Sherlock smiled up at John, “we are an old married couple.” And there’s no one else I’d ever want to be with.”
John tugged Sherlock up and into a hug, pinching his arse for good measure. Together they wended their way to the loo for nightly ablutions.
John took the left hand side of the bed so Sherlock could rest his head on his right shoulder. He gently stroked the thick hair as Sherlock drifted back to sleep.
Waking, John found himself entwined with the heat seeking octopus Sherlock became each night. One hand across his chest, one hand on his hip, slipping dangerously low. He could feel his husband tucked up against his backside, slight undulations indicating increasing interest in the contents of John’s pants.
Clothing discarded, the two men traded kisses while frotting against each other. The heat and fury of yesteryear traded for this slow, sweet pleasure of release.