#room sharing

Sherlock and John spend the night in Scotland after finishing a case. The sole Inn in town only has one room left...one bed. This would be fine - if not a bit awkward - if Sherlock hadn't developed a habit of snoring loudly. John suffers through many hours of sleeplessness before he discovers that skin-to-skin contact stops the noise.

notes: gen, part of a great series

Languorous by distantstarlight 2.5k words

“Sherlock Holmes and John Watson have been through a lot but one of the things they do well together is cases. It isn't a surprise that they get called out of town but what about what happens in their hotel room?”

notes: wet dream, morning sex

Thermodynamics Series by EntangledNow 4 works, 16.5k words total

“In which there's no heating and there's a dead owl in Sherlock's bed”

notes: Sherlock keeps ending up in John’s bed, leading to getting together

The Honeymoon Suite by Salamboo6 5.8k

John nods, licking his lips and playing with the key in his hand. We’ll probably be leaving first thing in the morning, he wants to tell her. As soon as Sherlock proves who robbed the previous couple who booked a room here, we’re out of here and stopping this happily married charade. “Thank you,” he says instead.

notes: post s4ish, rosie mentioned but not involved, waking up snuggling

To Sleep, Perchance to Smother Your Flatmate With A Pillow by Linpatootie 5.3k words

Sherlock wants to conduct a sleep study of sorts. John contemplates smothering him with a pillow.

notes: part of a great series, slow coming together

A Terrific Soporific by antietamfalls 11.2k words

Sherlock, a long-time sufferer of insomnia, is forced to share a bed with John at a hotel while on a case. To his astonishment, he finds that spending the night next to John helps him sleep and becomes determined to maneuver himself back into John's bed.

Worth the Wait by englandwouldfalljohn 1k words

When a case leaves John and Sherlock stranded in a cabin in the snow, an invitation to share the only bed leaves Sherlock wanting... but not for long *winkwink*

notes: eager first time in the middle of the night

In the Morning by erebones 3.9k words

for the prompt - paula bennyslegs: someone please write sherlock and john sharing a bed because of a case… and one of them waking up to the sound of the other having a wet dream, especially if they’re saying the other persons name whilst doing it

Someone Else's Heart by thisprettywren 4.1k words

A crime scene, a rainstorm, and something they both should have known all along.

notes: getting together in a hotel room on a case, emotional first time

One Day Like This by nondeducible 4.8k

When Sherlock emerged from the bathroom, the sight before him nearly took his breath away. The only light in the room was the small lamp on the bedside table. John’s skin shone like gold, his hair like the purest silver. He was on his side, facing the empty part of the bed, his outstretched hands ready to embrace whoever climbed in next to him. Sherlock could imagine, just for a second, that this was their shared bed and he was coming back to settle into John’s arms.

Knotted by naughtyspirit 23.1k words

John has to cancel a date because of Sherlock's case, which leads them to be tied up in a basement from which they have to escape.

They get wet, get tied up close and John has to step up and save them.

Because he's pretty. And hot. And just a little bit of a BAMF.

notes: bickering, getting together, first time

Sleeping next to you by Salambo06 5k words

Based on an Anonymous Prompt :

"So, that scene from ASiB when Mrs H has been attacked by the american CIA guy & John, Sherlock & she are in Mrs H's kitchen when John says "She’ll have to sleep upstairs in our flat tonight. We need to look after her." to which Sherlock replies with "no". John of course suggested that because he cares about her safety, but maybe he also did it cause he /wanted/ that to happen. What if they finally agreed on letting her have John's or Sherlock's bed & J&S sleep in the same one?"

“You can still sit here, I don’t mind sharin.”

Castiel cocked his head, confused for a moment before rolling his eyes.

“Please move.”

“Aw come on, sunshine,” Dean stretched, “I’ve had a long day of middle seats - let me have this window.” Dean winked at him.

Castiel, feeling the opposite of charmed, frowned and furrowed his brow.

“Move.”

“Ugh,” Dean scowled and got up. The woman from the aisle seat was already impatiently waiting in the aisle. Dean shoved against Castiel’s shoulder with his own as he exited the row. “Oops. Sorry.”

Castiel glared at him, but said nothing while he slid in to take his seat and buckle up. Dean dropped down into the seat next to him, yanking his own seatbelt to get it fastened while grumbling under his breath. Castiel could smell the whiskey.

“Ah, that explains it.” Castiel quipped.

“Explains what?” Dean sneered back.

“Maybe you’d be less vile if you hadn’t drank a liquor store before getting on the plane.”

“What did you just say to-“ Dean started to say as he twisted toward the man.

“Ladies and Gentleman, thank you for choosing us as your airline today. Please be sure to have your seats in the upright position, and any of your belongings in the overhead bins or underneath your seat. Soon we’ll also ask you to shut off your electronic devices, or set them to airplane mode.”

Castiel sighed and closed his eyes, resting his temple against the wall.

“What did you just say to me, dick?”

Castiel opened his eyes, but didn’t move. “Nothing.”

Dean let out a humorless laugh. “You suit-and-tie assholes are all the same.”

“Yes, and drunks are all the same as well.”

Dean turned hot and twisted toward Castiel again.

“Ow!” The woman in the aisle seat squeaked. Dean turned back to see he’d bumped her elbow.

“Aw darlin, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine. Just, can we all relax and get through this flight?”

“Well, sure thing, sweetheart. I’m already feelin more relaxed sittin next to you here.”

Castiel couldn’t contain his laugh.

“Okay fucker, that’s it.” Dean unclasped his seatbelt and started to stand.

“Ladies and gentleman, we are sorry to report that there are mechanical problems that must be fixed before this plane can fly. We will need to deplane and everyone will get put on new flights to your destination. Please be patient and listen for announcements in the terminal.”

“Son of bitch!” Dean yelled from his half-standing position. He sunk back down into his seat, defeated.

Castiel sighed and stared at the seatback in front of him. Both men sat in silence, waiting for their turn to exit the plane.

———

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Dean said again to the woman at the airline counter.

“Again, I’m very sorry, sir. Tomorrow is the soonest flight we can get you on.”

“What am I supposed to do tonight? You expect me to just sit here for 12 hours?”

“You are welcome to stay here in the terminal, or here is a list of nearby accommodations that may have availability.”

“Lady, I saw the line I just waited through, pretty sure there’s no vacancies at this point.”

“I’m sorry, sir. Maybe try the nearby hostels here at the bottom? Those usually don’t fill up as quick.”

Dean sighed and took the paper over to an empty spot against the wall. He looked around the terminal, weighing his options. He could try to stay in the terminal, but apparently bad weather in the Northeast grounded some flights and people were everywhere.

Dean shook his head and started making calls on his flip phone. After the first couple hotels were either full or way out of his price range, he finally went to the bottom of the list and called a couple hostels.

“We are actually mostly full, buttt…” Dean sat on the floor in the middle of the airport as he listened to what sounded like a teenage boy humm and tap on a keyboard.

“Yeah so no single rooms available, but looks like we have one spot in a double shared room. So if you’re okay with sharing…”

“Wait, like one bed for two people?” Dean had stayed in many crummy motels in his life, but never at a hostel so he had no idea how they worked.

“Ha, no dude. It’s two single beds in a room.”

Dean sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand. A toddler had been having a fit in the terminal for going on 30 minutes. Dean could feel a headache creeping up, especially with the last bit of alcohol leaving his system.

“Fine, yeah, I’ll take it.”

———

Dean checked in at the hostel front desk and got his room key. Music was blaring from a bar on the first level and several young people were milling around, making Dean feel ancient in comparison.

He went up the elevator and through a few halls before finally getting to his room. But his key wouldn’t work. Because of course his key wouldn’t work. He tried it several times, jiggling it this way and that to no avail. He leaned his forehead against the door, eyes closed, and whined out loud to himself.

Or so he thought.

The door opened and Dean fell forward into the man who opened it. The man held out his hands to help steady Dean as he stood up straight.

“Hey, sorry to wake ya man, my key just -“ Dean looked up into familiar blue eyes. “You gotta be shittin me.”

“Wonderful.” Castiel sighed as he walked back into the room, leaving Dean at the open door. “Close the door, please, it took forever for the room to get warm.”

Dean walked in, roughly shutting and locking the door. “Perfect end to a perfect day.”

“Listen, I’m exhausted, you’re exhausted. We’re here to sleep, so let’s just sleep and leave each other alone.”

“Fine by me.”

Castiel got back into his twin bed and turned away from Dean, facing the wall. Dean examined his bed and surroundings. Satisfied there weren’t any biohazards around - none he hadn’t survived before at least - he undressed down to his t-shirt and boxers and lay down. A groan escaped his lips as he was finally able to stretch out.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been laying there before he felt a drip. Then another drip, then faster drips. He finally woke up enough to connect that something wet - please god let it be water - was dripping on him in bed. He jumped out and turned the lights on.

“Unbelievable!”

“What are you doing?” Castiel grumbled.

“There’s a leak. Because of course there’s a leak.”

“A what?” Castiel sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes, adjusting to the light before seeing the trickling stream of water dripping onto the middle of Dean’s bed.

“I’ll be back.” And with that, Dean left the room.

———

The slamming door woke Castiel. He’d tried to stay awake until Dean got back, but ended up falling asleep sitting up.

Dean sat down on the foot of his bed, away from the drip, and roughly raked his fingers through his hair.

“So?”

Dean jerked his head up, but instead of looking angry, he simply looked wrung out.

“So. There are no other rooms. They put a ticket in about the leak, but no one will be out til the morning to fix it. So. I’m fucked.”

Castiel couldn’t help but feel bad for the man. He didn’t know how much better he’d be holding up if it was his bed under the leak. That gave him an idea.

“Why don’t you move the bed?”

Dean looked at him like he was crazy. “Where? You see the size of this room right?”

Castiel stood up, and looked at the room, sizing things up. He paused and thought before presenting his suggestion.

“Just move it to the center.”

“The center?”

“Yeah it should get it out of the way of the leak.”

Dean stood up next to Castiel and looked at the room. He was right, but-

“Dude that puts the bed right up against yours.”

“I’m aware. Look, I’m not thrilled either, but it’s that or the floor. I’m going to bed.”

Castiel got back into his bed and faced the wall again. Dean looked at the floor, then his bed, then Castiel’s back.

There was no option. Dean was not going to sleep on this floor.

The frame scraped on the floor as Dean pushed and pulled it over to the center of the room. He laid down and looked over at his sleeping roommate. It wasn’t so bad. I mean, it wasn’t that many hours ago that he wanted to get up close and personal to him after looking into his baby blues. Felt like an eternity ago, though.

What a long day. Three flights, middle seats, layovers, drinking to ease his nerves, drinking to bury any thought of what he was journeying toward.

But the drinks were long gone and now he lay in a dark, musty room with the faint sounds of dance music coming up through the floor, and the soft breathing of a stranger sleeping next to him.

Bobby was gone. Dean would never see him again. Never be able to call him with a question about a car or for updates on family friends or stories about his long gone parents.

His second dad was gone.

Dean didn’t even realize he was crying until a sob escaped. He tried to stifle the rest.

“Are you okay?” The man next him asked, voice deep with sleep.

“Yeah. Sorry.” Dean quickly wiped the moisture from his cheeks, as if that would hide the sounds that already gave him away. He heard shuffling next to him.

“You’re not. What’s wrong?” The man’s voice was clearer and a little closer now that he wasn’t facing the wall.

Dean huffed out a laugh. “Why do you care? We’re strangers. It’s fine man, go to sleep.”

There was a brief moment of silence and Dean thought the man had taken his advice.

“I’m Castiel. Novak. What’s your name?”

Dean turned his head toward Castiel’s voice. “Uh, Dean. Dean Winchester? Why?”

Castiel shrugged in the dark. “We’re not strangers anymore. Will you tell me what’s wrong now?”

Dean smiled. He had to give it to the guy. Clever.

“Eh. Just life. And death, I guess.”

“Death?”

Dean didn’t know why he was still talking to this jackass, but he was tired and it felt a bit like confession. A dark room where he didn’t have to look anyone in the eyes while he talked.

“My Uncle. He died. It’s uh, why I’m flying. His funeral.”

“I’m so sorry. I take it you were close?”

“Yeah, you could say that. He was like a second dad, I guess. Especially after my dad died.”

“That’s so hard. I’m glad you had someone to spend time with after your dad.”

Dean fell quiet at that. Thinking of all the times he probably could have traveled back to spend more time with Bobby, but didn’t.

“I’m sorry, I’m prying. It’s in my nature, and I forget sometimes that it’s not always appropriate.”

“No, it’s. It’s fine. It’s been a bit since I’ve seen him is all. I hate flying, and you know, a ton of other bullshit excuses. It’s been awhile.”

“You hate flying?”

“It’s unnatural, man! A giant metal tube that weighs, I-don’t-even-know-how-much, shouldn’t be in the sky.”

“Oh, so you have a phobia.”

Dean sighed. He hated that he had a fear of anything. “Yeah. I guess.”

“You really loved him - you’re pushing through your fear to get to his funeral. He knew that you loved him too.”

Dean turned onto his side, mirroring Castiel’s position. “How would you know?”

“Parents know. It’s normal to feel like you didn’t see them enough when they die, Dean. But parents know their children love them.”

Dean swallowed to fight back more tears as he thought about Bobby as his parent. And hoped that what this man said was true, that Bobby knew how much he meant to him. He cleared his throat.

“So uh, what about you, what are you flyin the friendly skies for?”

“I’m heading home actually. Was at a conference for work.”

“And what does Catstiel - Casteel? Do for work?

Castiel chuckled, “it’s Cas-ti-el. And I’ll tell you, but don’t panic.”

“What? Are you a contract killer or somethin?”

Castiel smiled. “Mmm. Much worse. I’m a Psychiatrist.”

Dean lifted his head from the pillow, his mouth opened but no words came. A laugh burst out instead.

“So you been shrinkin my head this whole time? That’s slick, doc.”

“Thanks for the compliment? I think? But no, I haven’t been analyzing you. We’re just talking. I’m a normal person.”

“Well if your attitude on the plane earlier is any indicator then yes, you’re a normal person.”

“MY attitude? You’re the one that tried to charm me out of my seat and then turned aggressive when I didn’t acquiesce.”

Castiel’s calm, playful tone took Dean off guard, keeping this from turning into an actual argument.

“Well, you’re the one who resorted to name-calling.”

“I did not.”

“Dude, you basically called me a drunk.”

“Were you drunk?

“That’s besides the point.”

“Well, I apologize for calling you a drunk. I should have been more specific in my statement.”

Dean chuckled and sighed. He felt just a little lighter than a few minutes ago. It was a nice reprieve.

“So you thought I was charming, huh?”

Castiel rolled his eyes and a yawn overtook him unexpectedly.

Dean sighed. “Yeah we should get back to sleep.”

“You sure? We can talk more if you need, I don’t mind.” Castiel tried to stifle another yawn.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Um. Thanks for. Just. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, Dean.” Castiel reached over and gently squeezed Dean’s shoulder before turning onto his back to sleep. “Good night.”

“Night, doc.”

———

Dean slowly stirred from sleep, feeling warm and safe. His face rested on a smooth shoulder as he breathed in the faint scent of cologne. The chin resting on the top of his head moved slightly, ruffling his hair and waking him fully.

His eyes opened wide as he remembered where he was - in a hostel with the good doctor. He was curled into the side of Castiel, who was laying on his back with his arm outstretched, serving as Dean’s pillow. Dean’s upper leg was slung over one of Castiel’s.

Dean slowly tipped his head up, hoping to find Castiel still asleep.

Those wide blue eyes were very much awake and looking back at him.

They both looked at each other in silence, neither moving a muscle. Dean swallowed and let out nervous laugh.

“Mornin, sunshine.”

“Good morning, Dean.”

Dean moved first to get off the poor man. “Sorry, man, didn’t mean to uh- yeah sorry.” He ran his fingers through his hair and walked over to put his clothes from yesterday back on.

Castiel shimmied across the second bed to get up and get dressed himself.

“No reason to apologize.”

“Alright, but uh, were you watching me sleep?”

Castiel’s cheeks turned pink. “What? No! I had just woken up like you, I swear!”

Dean chuckled. “Dude, I’m just messing with you.”

Both men startled when a loud knock came from the door. “Maintenance!”

“Guess it’s time to go - share a shuttle back to the airport?”

“I’d like that.” Castiel gave Dean the cutest smile that should not be allowed to come from a full grown man.

———

“Well, doc, guess this is it.” Dean stood up, hearing the announcement that his group was boarding now.

Castiel was put on a different flight, leaving an hour after Dean’s.

“Guess it is,” Castiel smiled. Dean thought he looked a little sad, but he was probably imagining that.

“Thanks for the, uh, chat. Have a good trip home.” Dean reached out and shook Castiel’s hand.

“Yes, you have a good trip as well. I mean.”

Dean smiled, “I know what you mean. Thank you.”

Dean turned away, and Castiel panicked, “Wait, Dean.”

Dean turned back, brow raised. “Yeah?”

Castiel pulled his wallet out and grabbed a business card, handing it to dean. Dean read it:

“Good things do happen.” Castiel Novak, MD Psychiatrist

“Damn, you must think I need a lot of help.” Dean half-joked with him.

Castiel’s eyes went wide. “No. Oh no no, um wait.” Castiel plucked the card from his hand. He looked around and then leaned over to a woman sitting nearby. “I’m sorry ma’am, do you have a pen I can borrow?” After digging in her purse for a moment, she handed a pen over to a very grateful Castiel.

Castiel wrote on the back of the card, hesitated, then wrote something else before handing the card back to Dean.

“That’s my personal number. Call me, I mean if you want. If you need someone to talk to about the funeral and everything. Not as a shrink. As a friend.” Castiel’s cheeks were pink once again.

Dean smiled and started to look down at the card when final boarding was called for his flight.

“Shit, Cas, I gotta go. I cannot miss this flight. Thanks again!” Dean ran for the gate.

Dean sat in his window seat - a seat he was sure to request as soon as he arrived at the airport that morning. The plane started to back away from the gate, so Dean searched his pocket for gum to chew during take-off. He felt Castiel’s business card and pulled it out.

He read the card again and then flipped it over to the back. A wide grin broke out on his face as he blushed at the scribbled numbers and note:

Call me  XX

———

It’d been a long week. Lots of shed tears, laughter, hugs, and paperwork. No one talks about the paperwork. Dean was exhausted but he’d made it through. Sammy ended up being able to take time away from his law firm, so having his baby brother there with him helped a lot.

It was Saturday morning, and Dean sat on the porch at Bobby’s house - now Dean’s house according to the will - drinking coffee to keep warm. He pulled out the business card that he’d kept in his pocket all week and dialed the scribbled number on the back.

One ring. Two Rings. Three.

“This is Dr. Novak.”

Dean smiled at hearing that familiar deep voice.

“Mornin, sunshine.”

One beat. Two beats. Three.