Watson
Sherlock shifts, mumbling sleepily, pulling my arm tighter around his chest.
Key was up at the goddamn crack of dawn, despite our very late night. When I threw my cellphone at her and told her to get her delicious ass back in bed, she hissed at me. My own mate. Then she told me, quite clearly, that if I didn’t like how she conducted her morning routine that I was more than welcome to vacate her space and return to my own. Kissing her soundly, I did just that. But since my bed was occupied, I slid behind Sherl. I stayed on top of the blankets, pulling a spare over the top of me. It’s not like I was going to sleep on the couch. I’m not homeless.
It must be after noon now, judging by the light, and Sherlock’s shifting ass. He is quite warm, though, so I snuggle closer. Shifters alwa
