Disclaimer: They are not mine, I own no part of the BBC Sherlock verse, and I am not making any money from this.

A/N: I didn't see this happening. I really didn't. But, here you are: five chapters of different sleep "ailments" and how they affect our boys.

It's three days and one case later before either of them mentions anything.

As they're taking their coats off and settling back in to the apartment, John yawns and runs a hand roughly through his hair.

"You should sleep in my bed tonight," Sherlock states, slightly nervous but covering it up by resolutely not looking at the other man as he says it.

"What? Why?" John asks, a bit more awake than a few moments previous.

Sherlock sighs heavily before finally meeting his eyes, "For the sleep experiment," he elaborates in an Of course tone.

John simply slow blinks at him a few times, mouth actually opening and closing soundlessly twice before he can manage to make words come out, "You aren't serious."

Sherlock's head tilts to the left in confusion, "Of course I am. You said you would consent to the experiment I thought up, and I'd like to begin tonight," he ends by sounding defensive.

"Jesus," John mutters while rubbing his tired face with his left hand, but neither says anything more. It takes a full two minutes before John nods his head in resignation and turns towards the stairs to his room.

"John?" Sherlock calls after him uncertainly.

"My pajamas are upstairs. I didn't consent to do the study nude; I'll be back down in a moment," he calls without stopping his progress.

As he hears the door close softly, Sherlock blushes.

By the time John enters his friend's room, Sherlock is under the covers on the side furthest from the door, messing around on his phone. Sherlock pretends not to take notice of the other man joining him on the bed, and John tries not to blush at the odd feeling of domesticity.

"Are you going to tell me what the experiment entails?" John asks after settling.

"Mmm," Sherlock hums distractedly, "no."

John huffs a breath out through his nose in annoyance, "Alright. Well is there anything I need to do for this experiment?"

"No, just sleep," he says before finally looking away from his phone, his eyes softening slightly as they land on John's face, "Please," he adds.

John eyes him suspiciously for a moment but is too tired to keep it up. They had been on this last case for three days with hardly any sleep at all and he is tired, dammit! While he originally thought he might not be able to find sleep due to the awkward situation, he finds that sleep finds him instead.

Sherlock watches John fall deeper in to sleep, cataloging how long it takes (an impressive four minutes and 12 seconds) and how he situates himself. John has fallen asleep on his back, head facing away from Sherlock, and his mouth slightly open. He doesn't snore – like John has told him that he does – but simply makes little puffing sounds every fifth breath, and he's bound to drool on his pillow.

Sherlock puts his phone on the nightstand and moves on to his right side, facing John. He's not incredibly tired, so he focuses his attention on John's steady breathing. This is how he falls asleep.

John wakes up some time later on his right side and feeling overly warm. It takes him a second to realize the reason is Sherlock's hand on his neck, keeping his body heat from escaping from the prominent pulse point. He grunts in aggravation as he shakes his upper body to dislodge the scalding hand. When that doesn't help, he physically removes it and carelessly redirects it towards the other man's own body. As he waits to cool enough to fall back asleep, he hears Sherlock make a small noise of discontent before he feels the hand resume its position on his neck.

John grunts in aggravation again (too tired to choose another noise) before flinging the hand off once more and moving to lie on his back. This time, when Sherlock seeks him out, he nearly chokes John when his hand lands heavily on his adam's apple. John splutters before grabbing the hand and pushing it down his body. With Sherlock's hand resting lightly on his stomach, John finds peace enough to sleep once more.

A swift kick to his left lower leg wakes him with a jolt and a hiss. "Shite," John cusses, because Sherlock is apparently also a kicker in his sleep. By the power behind the action, John reasons that he might have missed his calling as a damn good football player at one point. John turns on to his right side, disgruntled, as he attempts to place as much space between them as possible.

Over the next unknown amount of time – the enigma that is the world of sleep vs waking existing somehow outside of the common laws of time – John continuously finds himself being woken by either Sherlock's hand somewhere annoying, or being kicked by the boniest feet in the world. It's not quite as intrusive as his snoring was (which is somehow magically not an issue tonight), but he's still unable to get the restful night's sleep that he craves.

John's body knows the answer to the problem, even if his brain is too muddled to remember it at the moment.

So with a heavy, tired sigh, John flips over to his left side and pulls Sherlock in to his arms as their legs intertwine almost in a lock. He sighs again, in contentment this time, as he buries his face in Sherlock's chest.

Sherlock - while not having an overtly interrupted sleep all night like John - finally, for the first time this night, settles in to a restful doze.

This is the way Sherlock wakes up: John in his arms, their legs entwined intimately.

He has no idea how they came to be in this position.

"John?" He asks quietly, trying to pull away slightly.

John, just like the last time, pulls him back closer to him reflexively before responding groggily, "You kick," he says as he moves his right leg against Sherlock's, "and you're handsy, you bloody sleep-octopus." It's not actually an accurate descriptor for Sherlock's apparent need to touch him in the night, but his sleep brain loves the title anyway.

Sherlock is shocked in to silence as he takes in this information. He clears his throat slightly before asking, "Did I snore?"

John's head shakes before he vocalizes the answer, "No, thank God."

Sherlock's brain works around the information as John falls back in to a comfortable, warm slumber. It's some time before Sherlock speaks up again.

"I don't remember any of that," he practically whispers, not truly certain that he wants to wake John again, "We'll need to experiment further."

John merely hums, clearly not aware of what he's responding to, but Sherlock takes it as an agreement anyway.

A/N: As I said, this will be updated daily, but any encouragement you'd be willing to leave as it goes would be greatly appreciated so I know I'm not boring people with it.

I hope you enjoy the journey!