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Their most recent case had taken them out of London, and Sherlock had insisted they take a train. He claimed the motion helped him think, but John knew he simply didn’t feel like driving, and didn’t want to bother with a plane ride. He was too antsy for that, too impatient to sit in one seat for very long. At least in a train he could get up and stretch his legs.
But the case was over now, and they were on their way home, much to John’s delight. It had been hard; a lot of running around, a lot of Sherlock insulting people and John having to apologize afterwards. John was looking forward to being able to go home and just sit, have a cup of tea, and relax. Sherlock, too, seemed to be glad the case was gone. Currently, he was sitting with his legs out in front of him, taking up the whole booth he was on, head leaning back against the window. John was across from him, taking down a few notes in his notepad. Sherlock was constantly complaining that John was never specific enough, so he had been taking extra care lately to get as many details down as possible.
John was so concentrated on his writing that he didn’t immediately notice when Sherlock said his name. “John!” He snapped his head up to see Sherlock smiled at him with amusement. “Writing up the case?”
“Yeah,” John chuckled and nodded. “What about you? I thought you were taking a nap? You didn’t sleep this whole week, you need to get some rest.”
Sherlock sighed. “No. I can’t seem to get comfortable enough.” Then he got a look in his eyes, one that John knew didn’t bode well for him. Sherlock opened his arms, and John just raised a questioning eyebrow. “Come here,” he gestured at John.
“You can’t be serious.”
“I assure you, I am.”
“On the train, Sherlock?”
“There’s barely anyone here, no one is even paying attention to us.” John looked around and found that Sherlock was right. Of course. He sighed, and finally gave in, earning a smirk from Sherlock.
The rest of the train ride had Sherlock leaning back against the window, John’s back pressed against his chest, two long arms around his waist. Sherlock’s cheek was resting on top of John’s head, and he was able to sleep the whole way back.