You sighed as you looked through your bag, trying to find the keys to your flat amongst all the stuff that had accumulated in the bottom of your bag. Finding nothing but a packet of tissues hidden beneath the sweet wrappers and receipts, you headed towards your boyfriend’s flat to retrieve the key you left there. Luckily, it was only a few streets away, so it was a quick walk, meaning that you found yourself at his door ten minutes later.
You knocked on the door, you didn’t need to knock loudly for him to hear you, and so you were surprised when it went unanswered. You used the knocker on the door, putting it back at the usual odd angle once you heard the sound of footsteps descending stairs. It had been straight before you used it, which meant his brother had visited and was possibly still visiting. The latter option was confirmed when the door was opened by Mycroft Holmes himself.
“Mycroft, what are you doing here?” you asked, stepping past him and into the flat. You started to climb the stairs, turning to face the elder Holmes in time to see him closing the door, the door knocker straightened once again.
“I would have asked you the same question, but due to your disorganised bag and overall appearance I can tell that you’ve finished work but can’t find your keys, so you’re here for the spare set.”
“Show off” you grumbled as Mycroft disappeared momentarily, only to reappear beside you with the keys in hand. Mycroft gently pushed you towards the door after setting the keys in your hand, but you dug your feet into the floor.
“Mycroft, what are you doing here? Why are you so eager to get me to leave?” you demanded.
“If anyone can help here, it’s (y/n), leave her alone Mycroft” You heard John shout from upstairs. You poked your tongue out at Mycroft as he let you past, causing him to roll his eyes before he followed you up the stairs.
“Alright, will someone tell me what’s going on?” you questioned, heading into the living room of 221b. You stopped just inside the doorway as you noticed Sherlock sat on his chair watching the TV, with a cushion clutched to his chest like a teddy bear. The sight of your boyfriend in such a state was unusual, but what he was watching made you very worried.
Your vampire boyfriend was watching Twilight, a film he swore he didn’t even want to look at the box for.
You turned around and walked back out of the room, moving your glare between John and Mycroft, waiting for an explanation.
“You know he has a bit of an issue with fresh blood...” John began.
“Yes, it makes him act drunk”
“...well, he left this morning and came back like this. He got his hands on a few people who had obviously been out partying last ni-“
“Are you telling me that he’s drunk on drunkard’s blood?” you interrupted.
“Yes” Mycroft replied. You glanced back at your boyfriend, who was now muttering things under his breath.
“And the Twilight?”
“He brought the whole series home with him” John said, following your gaze. Sherlock began to cry as he watched and you didn’t know whether to laugh, run away from the entire situation or attempt to comfort him.
“Which film is he on?” you questioned, watching from the doorway as Sherlock stopped crying and focused on the intense action on screen, literally sitting on the edge of his seat.
“Three” they answered in unison.
“He made us sit with him for the other two” John explained, seeing your questioningly raised eyebrow. On cue, the credits started rolling and Sherlock looked away from the TV to find the next film, at which point he noticed you in the doorway.
“(y/n), you’re here!” he practically squealed. In the time it took you to blink, Sherlock had changed the DVDs, grabbed you from your spot by the door and sat back down in his seat with you now sat on his lap.
“Wha-How?” you muttered. Sherlock just pulled you against his chest, holding you as if you were the pillow.
“Hush, you’ve joined just in time for the wedding!” he told you, oblivious of the glare you were sending him. Your glare became a frown at that comment.
“Oh, I would never look up spoilers, I read all the books this morning” he continued, taking one of his arms from around your stomach to pat the pile of five books sat proudly beside his violin. The next movie started, so Sherlock returned his arm to around your stomach, hugging you like a teddy bear.
You sent pleading looks to the doorway, where John and Mycroft just smirked at you before closing the door.
“I’m going to kill those two tomorrow”
“Shh (y/n)” Sherlock said, squeezing your stomach extra tight. You managed to pry his hands away enough for you to breathe, but settled back against his chest anyway, allowing him to snuggle into you as he watched.
Two films, five outbursts of tears and a ‘squeal like a teenage girl’ moment later, Sherlock had fallen asleep still cuddling you. You managed to pry his arms away from you, quickly replacing your space with a pillow, so you could clean up some of the mess he’d made in his drunken state. Once the flat was as cluttered as usual, you wandered into Sherlock’s room. You were asleep the moment you were laying on the bed.
Sherlock groaned as he woke up the next morning. He was lying face down on the floor, meaning that he’d either tried to get up and fallen there, or had slipped out of his seat whilst asleep and had turned over. Due to the fact that his head brushed against his chair when he tried to lift it, he was going with the latter.
“You’re awake then” your quiet comment bounced around his head and he groaned again. You chuckled at that.
“How long have I been asleep?” he asked, turning onto his back so he could see you. The small motion made the world look like it was spinning, eliciting another groan from the vampire.
“You’ve been asleep a full day, you really know how to sleep off the alcoblood” you answered. Sherlock remembered something once you said that, snatching the drunks and drinking their blood, then stumbling to a DVD store, but the rest was fuzzy from there.
“What happened?” He questioned, sitting up despite your protests. You handed him a bloodbag and some painkillers, then took a seat beside him.
“You spent the morning reading all five books in the Twilight Saga, then forced John and Mycroft to watch the first two and a half films with you. I turned up to get the spare set of keys to my flat and found you drunk. Mycroft and John explained everything and you used me as a cuddly toy while you watched the last two movies in the saga” Sherlock had fallen silent as you’d explained, mortified.
“It’s alright though, I still love you” you finished, snuggling up to his side. It was Sherlock’s turn to chuckle as he wrapped an arm around you, allowing you to shuffle over until your head was leaning against his chest.
“Mycroft has video evidence of all this, doesn’t he?”