Towel
Sherlock was lying on the sofa, with John beside it, standing over him, holding a thermometer in his hand. Sherlock had been in this state the whole morning.
They didn't have any cases at hand, and Sherlock was enduring a viral fever.
John had tucked him in with a thick blanket, but Sherlock still shivered now and then. So, he decided it was time Sherlock started with a medicinal course.
John was here with a bottle of damn pills in his hand; full intention of shoving it down Sherlock's throat if needed.
"This is tedious," said Sherlock as he shifted a little on the sofa. His head throbbed with pain when he did that. He clenched his teeth and hissed.
"You didn't have to jump into the Thames last night," said John as he handed the thermometer to Sherlock, after having checked its mercury level.
Sherlock placed it in his armpit and clutched his arm close to his body. "I was only re-creating an old case."
"You still didn't have to -" John began in a raised volume but cut himself off. "Never mind. Take these after I've checked your temperature."
"What if I refuse?"
"Then I'll slip them in your tea. You'll never know," John smirked.
Damn him. He knew how much Sherlock loved tea and craved it during these times. Sherlock could easily skip meals - eating was boring - but never that.
Sherlock took John's wrist in his hand and pulled him close with what little strength he'd gathered.
John bent over and their faces were close. "What?" he asked as he brushed some of his curls away from Sherlock's forehead.
Sherlock wished John could come closer but no. He was quite sick and he didn't want John to catch that. "You know me too well," he said instead in a low voice.
John laughed. "That I do," he said and kissed Sherlock's forehead before straightening up.
"John, I'll never be able to solve another case if I have to keep lying like this. I can't think with blankets on."
John was shaking his head with a smile. "It's just a fever. You'll be okay in a day or two."
"Too long a time," Sherlock grumbled as took out the thermometer and returned it to John.
John held it against the light in the sitting room and squinted.
"It's a little more than thirty-eight. Don't worry, just take this."
Sherlock took the bottle of pills from John and got up a bit to swallow one. He lay back and his breathing was heavy.
John was watching him with concern. Sherlock placed the bottle on the coffee table and closed his eyes.
John switched off the lights in his room and went away.
Sherlock's eyes were still closed but he missed John's presence already.
After a few minutes, he heard John's footsteps again. They were approaching him.
"Here let me just..." John trailed off as he placed a small towel on Sherlock's forehead. It was hot and wet.
"Try to catch some sleep if you can, will you?" He ran his fingers through Sherlock's hair.
John then walked across the room to have a seat on his chair with a novel in his hand.
Sherlock felt a smile spreading across his face even in this state. He'd never felt luckier in his life.
***
Prompt Towel by @onesmallfamily for Sherlock September Challenge 2023.
Tagging: @helloliriels @lisbeth-kk @keirgreeneyes @gaylilsherlock @topsyturvy-turtely @a-victorian-girl @lookingforlifeoutthere @curlyjohnlock @clueless-mp4 @missdeliadili @calaisreno @peanitbear @safedistancefrombeingsmart @kettykika78
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Aging Lucio Headcanons
I think a lot about Lucio as he gets older and what his reactions to certain things would be. I think I promised I'd post one of these like a million years ago when I had my old tumblr. So here we go. TW: aging, mentions of death and dying
Lucio is flabbergasted- no, disgusted- at the first silver hair he spots on his blonde head. He pinches it between his fingers, inspecting it carefully in the mirror, scowling. The whole of his life, he'd hoped to be immune to the fragility of human life, but alas. Here it is. His first strand of gray. The mark of an aging man. He plucks it out, casting it aside, its very existence a mockery of Lucio's vigor.
He takes to dyeing his hair (if he doesn't dye it already) and is meticulous about it. There must be no hint of gray. He doesn't want to see even gray roots.
And then the wrinkles start to set in and Lucio is beside himself. When he looks in the mirror, all he sees is some haggard old man looking back at him (so dramatic).
I think Lucio would take to doing minorly invasive cosmetic surgery, like botox, fillers, etc... Things to relax his facial muscles, prevent wrinkles, fill out his face a bit as he loses some of the facial-roundness of youth. But nothing super intense. Mainly because Lucio strikes me as a, I'm handsome enough as it is. I don't need anyone messing around with my bone structure.
Skin care is an absolute must for him. He's already very particular about it, but as he ages, he wants to make sure he's protected from the harsh rays of the sun. Sunscreen or foundation with spf are his go-to's. You thought his skincare routine was extensive before. Now it takes him practically an hour (or more), twice a day haha.
Lucio is also very interested in maintaining his figure. He continues to work out and doesn't let his age get in the way of a healthy body.
Though Lucio likes to be waited on, hand and foot, he's not about to let himself become feeble. As he gets much, much older, he grows frustrated with his stiff joints and creaky bones. He tries his best to stay in tip-top shape until the end.
I imagine aging for him on a surface level would be extremely difficult (his perceived "loss" of his good looks, etc...), but functionally it would frustrate him, too. He never wants to be seen as weak. He wants to be taken seriously and aging to him means that you just become a doddering old goat. He watches all the young soldiers flitting about on their light feet and wonders if they make fun of him in their spare time.
Aging is absolutely terrifying to him. And not just for surface level reasons. It means he's closer and closer to the end. Though he knows in his heart that he could've died in battle in his youth, aging just feel so definitive. So withering. So lonely. He already knows what that feels like, to become feeble and lonely, from when he had the plague. He never wants to experience that again.
But with a patient MC, I think he can be convinced otherwise. He can be shown that aging is simply a part of life.
Lucio, think of your crows feet and smile lines like your battle scars. They show the world the victories and accomplishments you've had, but instead of in battles, its in happiness. Your little wrinkles are a sign of the joy you've experienced, MC will whisper softly, thumb gently caressing the crinkles in the corners of Lucio's eyes. Lucio has never thought of it that way. Perhaps MC is right: his smile lines and crows feet are marks of all the love and happiness he's achieved in his later years (though he might still do some botox, just for his own sake).
MC still looks at him like he's the most handsome man in the world. Hell, he thinks to himself, I make wrinkles and silver hair look amazing. He leans into his aging a bit more and eventually learns to live with it. He and MC can grow old together, side-by-side <3 Lucio knows he's not alone and he's grateful for that.
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I love your teach me to love AU and I have a request!!
Thena, Druig and Phastos with his family are having a water fight 😁
they are in the middle of it (everyone playing, even Thena!) when Gil comes home from work and when he arrives in the garden he gets hit by a big water balloon! Lucky for Thena he has a white T-Shirt on 😏👀 (Ben is silently enjoying the sight too😳)
"No, get that away from me!"
"Come on, Phastos!"
"Then you try it!"
Gil bypassed the front walkway, circling around to the gate of the backyard fence. He chuckled at the sight.
Phastos was already soaked to the bone, much to his chagrin. Ben was reasonably doused as well, with Jack looking like he had gone swimming with his clothes on. Druig was a little bit drier, as was his mother, although their speed was clearly all that had saved them.
"Mum!" Druig belted out from the far side of the yard with his teeny-tiny water gun in hand.
Thena sped away from Phastos and his two water balloons.
"Druig!" Phastos complained, lowering his arms from what he had been planning as a double attack.
"That's my boy!" Thena laughed as she looped around the fence and scooped him up into her arms.
He laughed as she swung him around, tickling his belly until he was on the ground again. "Me'n Mum are a team!"
"That's right!" Thena laughed as Ben helped Phastos wring out his cardigan before lying it over the railing of the back porch. Her eyes caught the new arrival and she trotted over to him in her sandal feet, "welcome back!"
Gil accepted her gleeful welcome kiss all too happily, holding her at the waist as her arms slid around his neck.
"No one wants to see that!" Phastos yelled at them, although Ben pinched his side for it. "Hey!"
"You and Baba kiss all the time," Jack pointed out (and betraying his own father!).
"That's different," Phastos refuted, without so much as an attempt to explain why it was different in any way.
"Mister Dad!" Druig ran over, laughed as he was scooped up in one of Gil's strong arms and lifted up. "We're playin' water 'loons!"
"Balloons, Darling," Thena smiled at her son, running her hand through his hopelessly mussed hair. It wasn't as if they weren't all going to need to shower off later, anyway.
"Oh we are, huh?" Gil grinned, letting Druig down so he could run after Jack again. He took in Thena, with only a few errant damp spots on her here and there. "You seem to have made out pretty well."
"I'm lucky," she whispered to him as he deposited his work satchel safely by the deck and took off his vest. "Being Jack's favourite Aunt comes with perks."
She wouldn't have to be his only Aunt to be his favourite, of course.
"So what's this then?" Gil grinned, feeling bold enough - in their moment somewhat alone - to poke at the damp white material of her dress by her hip.
"Ben, and mostly Phastos, that's what," she shook her head.
"That's okay," Gil leaned in to kiss her cheek as Druig's laughter filled the air, "I'm here now. I'll keep you dry."
"Yes, my valiant protector, hm?" Thena smiled, holding his cheeks and brushing her thumbs over his skin.
"Mum, look out!"
Gil and Thena both laughed as he lifted and moved her behind him just in time to shield her.
"Come on!" Phastos cursed (as much as he could with the children present). "Gil!"
"Okay," Gil snickered, leaving Thena's side to get in on the action.
Thena stood back from it all, watching as Gil charged at Phastos, both equally tall men plowing into each other like kids Jack's age. The grass was also wet from the water balloons being burst and dropped everywhere.
Gil would land a few and then Phastos would. He also had Ben's assistance here and there. Gil held his hands up as Ben used the supersoaker on him. "Okay, okay, I give up!"
"Teaming up on an innocent man--how could you!" Thena shouted from the porch.
"How could you?!" Druig repeated, bouncing with laughter.
"Look at the size of him!" Phastos stated in his defense, wiping some sweat from his brow.
Thena bit into her lip, doing exactly that as Gil pulled at the white t-shirt now so plastered to his body it looked painted on. He gave up on wringing it out while it was still on him and finally peeled it off and over his head.
Gil wrung the shirt out and flapped it, oblivious to the show he was putting on.
Ben caught Thena's eye and shrugged; he didn't blame her for staring.
"Hey," Phastos nudged his husband, rolling his eyes at him. "I know he's cut, but keep your eyes up, Stoss."
Gil ruffled his hair, coming over to leave his shirt in the sunny part of the back deck to dry. He grinned at the colour in Thena's cheeks. "You know you get to look all you want, right?"
Thena turned her head, feigning some innocence, "I don't know what you mean."
"Oh, really?" Gil chuckled, walking over to her.
She pressed a hand to his chest, "you're not soaking me to the bone, mister."
"Aw, come on," he pouted at her, arms still extended for a hug, "I can't even have a hug for protecting you?"
"Is protecting me not reward enough?" she teased, at least standing on her toes to kiss the corner of his lips.
"Fine," Gil sighed loudly, pouting at her even more. Until he gave her a wink, "tonight, then?"
Thena rolled her eyes up and away from him, although her smile grew as well, "I don't know anything about that, either."
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