"I'm dying, John!" Sherlock whined, looking at his flatmate like a sad puppy.
John rolled his eyes.
"No, you're not. You've just got a cold," he explained patiently, pointing his finger at Sherlock to show who was to blame for the whole situation. "I told you not to run around the flat barefooted and only in your dressing gown!"
Sherlock sneezed loudly three times in a row and then huffed with annoyance.
"My head is pounding, I can't think!" He protested while wrinkling his nose in indignation.
John sighed heavily.
"No wonder, you have a high fever. Just stay in bed and wait till the medicines I gave you will kick in."
"I won't, staying in bed is boring!" Sherlock stated defiantly, sat up and folded his arms on his chest.
"Sherlock, lie down!" A note of warning could be heard in John's voice. He used that tone to his most problematic patients at the hospital.
"No!" Holmes pouted like a stubborn child, ostentatiously not looking at John.
"Lie. Down." John repeated more forcefully.
"Make me!" Sherlock stuck out his tongue at the doctor.
John growled and clenched his fists, feeling the urge to punch the detective right into that congested nose rising. Fortunately, he knew how to approach Sherlock to coax him into doing something he initially was reluctant to do.
"Will you stay in bed if I lie down with you?"
Sherlock shot him a calculating gaze, pretending to ponder for a moment about the offer.
"Maybe," he replied and moved aside to make room for John. The good doctor had no other choice but to slide under the duvet beside Sherlock. He almost instantly felt how his lover's feverish body was pressing against his own. John wrapped his arms around Sherlock and smiled teasingly.
"If you wanted some cuddles, you could have simply said so."
John just giggled and kissed him on the head with a loud smack.