JWP 2019 | Day 24

[thesadchicken]

Title: Three times they were forced to share a bed (and one time they weren't).
Author: thesadchicken
Rating: PG.
Universe: ACD.
Characters: John Watson, Sherlock Holmes.
Summary: The title says it all.
Word Count: 300.

Author's note: I love fanfic tropes, and I love the classics! This one was written in a bit of a rush, I'm afraid.

Prompt: Old Tropes Are The Best Tropes: Use or be inspired by one or more classic tropes in your work today. Examples of classic tropes include: they had to share a room and there was only one bed; it was a dark and stormy night; the doctor needing doctoring; ugly duckling turns into a swan; and so on. If you use one not in the examples, be sure to tell us what it is!

The first time it happened, they were investigating the murder of a man in the country. The innkeeper was adamant: only one room, only one bed. They had no choice: they slept back to back and tried not to move too much.

The second time, Holmes was sick. Fever and stomach aches and cries of pain throughout the night – Watson stayed by his side until he was starting to fall asleep. Through his feverish haze, Holmes whispered, ‘please, stay with me, doctor.’ Watson slept on the edge of the bed, Holmes’ trembling fingers squeezing his hand.

The third time, they were trapped in a small room inside an abandoned house – the hideout of a group of criminals they had been chasing – and, unable to step outside until the thieves moved away, they were forced to sleep on an old worn-out bed in the corner of the room. They were each aware of the other’s breathing, the way one’s chest would rise and fall a little faster if the other shifted. Watson buried his face in the pillow and tried not to think of Holmes’ honey-and-tobacco scent. Holmes closed his eyes and turned his mind away from the way Watson’s thigh pressed against his.

And then on a dark and stormy night, when all was silent over Baker Street, they did it again – they shared a bed. Not out of necessity, not because they had no other choice, but because Watson’s wound was healing, and Holmes had read the report and had whispered, ‘Nothing is worth your wounds, Watson,’ and their eyes had met, and a moment later they were holding each other, and the bed creaked and groaned for a while until everything was still again.

The next morning they were asleep next to each other, contented smiles on their tired faces.

Comments

[stonepicnicking_okapi]

Aw. Very nice progression!

[thesadchicken]

Thank you!! ♡

[methylviolet10b]

Awww! Your affection for them (and for this trope) shines through in every word. Well done!

[thesadchicken]

I think this is the best comment I've ever received on a story :') Thank you so much ♡

[methylviolet10b]

You're very welcome! And I must apologize - I completely spaced and accidentally attributed all of the icons to caffienekitty. I've corrected the post to attribute the darling vampire one to you. Many many apologies - I can only admit that JWP has left me with no brain cells at this point!

[thesadchicken]

Oh no problem at all :D I figured it was a mistake, you have so much to do AND you have to fill the prompts as well! I say: bravo! You're doing a great job!

[gardnerhill]

Splendid transition from necessity to passion.

[thesadchicken]

Thank you very much ~ I do enjoy making them pine for each other a bit before bringing them together ♡

[debriswoman]

Well done, develops nicely.

[thesadchicken]

Thank you very much ♡♡

[smallhobbit]

I like the natural progression in this.

[thesadchicken]

Thank you! I'm glad you enjoyed my little story!

[capt_facepalm]

Nicely done!