a lovely date for a murder, don't you agree

[deductivedetective]

Neither of them called it a date. Sherlock may not have been the most socially up-to-speed person, but he knew what this was; what John was asking. He humored him and agreed, not pressing the matter. It wasn't unusual for them to to be together anyway, even before this. In fact, catching them without the other was even more odd.

It wasn't too fancy, anyway. The Chinese place down the street was good, and authentic (according to Sherlock's verification), and reasonably priced for two men sharing money. The atmosphere wasn't romantic, at least. Sherlock imagined the pressure on John would be lessened if just for that reason, even if he didn't understand the big deal.

"Eating in today for once, eh, Sherlock?" the host asked with a polite smile as they entered. "Two, then?"

"Yes, thank you," Sherlock said, looking at John. "Any plans after this, by the way?"

Comments

[deductivedetective]

Sherlock was close behind and, not one to waste time, was already undoing the buttons of his shirt to change into pajamas. Fortunately enough, Mycroft had brought the two of them spare clothes while they were at the hospital, else they'd be awfully rank right now. Their previous ones were beyond salvageable, to say the least. (Though Sherlock refused to let him toss out the scarf and his coat, and demanded it be dry cleaned by the best people Mycroft had.)

Upon reaching John's room, Sherlock grabbed John's pajamas off the corner of the bed, drooping them over his shoulder while he started to help himself to pulling up John's shirt by the hem. It occurred to him that the first time the veteran went through a shoulder injury, he probably had a hard time doing this by himself. But knowing John, Sherlock imagined he did it anyway. He met him back when he was a lonely man.

[deductivedoctor]

John's jumper hadn't been as fortunate as Sherlock's coat. It had been a particularly pale shade of yellow and by the end of the night had sponged up more red than he'd like to think about. No amount of dry cleaning would have saved it. It was a shame, really. John liked that jumper.

When Sherlock tugged a thin flannel top around John's shoulder, John made a face. "Sherlock, um, pyjamas can come later."

[deductivedetective]

Sherlock stopped, confused, the shirt wrinkled in a loop around John's shoulder.

"I thought you wanted to sleep."

[deductivedoctor]

"It's bloody amazing what you choose to be dense about," John said, using his good arm to tug the shirt down over his torso. "Nevermind. Let's turn in for the night."

[deductivedetective]

There's was a moment of staring, before it clicked. To his credit, he was catching on quicker now.

"Oh. Oh,," he said, watching John's torso disappear under the fabric of his shirt. "I don't mind. We can. Will your shoulder be all right..?"

[deductivedoctor]

"No, no, it's fine," John shook his head. "Sleeping's fine too. Rather tired after all that anyway."

[deductivedetective]

Sherlock let it go with a nod. Although he still had John's pajamas trousers left to help with. If he wanted. He knew he could mess up his resolve, though.

He looked down with a pause.

"Need help with these, then?"

[deductivedoctor]

"Not particularly, no," John laughed out, sitting down on the corner of the bed so he could tug off his trousers. "It's more the shirt I have trouble with."

[deductivedetective]

"Right," he said, proceeding to get changed himself, pulling his shirt off. Sherlock grabbed his sleep clothes off the floor. He had taken to John's room a little too easily, it had seemed. Not that he was messy, considering he only used it for sleeping, much like his own (ex-)room. He threw off his trousers, hardly shy about himself, and even less so around John.

[deductivedoctor]

John slumped back on the bed once he'd finished changing, shifting slightly as to ease the pressure off his shoulders. he tucked his good arm over his head, immediately caught in a yawn. "Turn the lights off."

carry me home NANA NANA NA NANA NA

[deductivedetective]

The normal rhythm they moved in was no different now that they were 'together'. Sherlock hit the lights barely a second after John asked, tucking himself in soon after. He was a little more subtle in his arrangement, his head barely leaned on John's good shoulder. Sherlock closed his eyes, starting to focus on emptying his mind. (He usually put a nicotine patch on right before bed. It helped a little.)