He shuddered at John's small touch on his cheek, wondering whether it would be approproate to kiss him again. How often did people actually kiss? Sherlock hesitated, the urge almost becoming overwhelming, his chest tightening. He quickly moved in and gave John a small kiss on the lips, then got out of the bed hurriedly, wincing as he forgot his injuries again.
Sherlock wandered out into the corridor and approached the reception desk. "Um...I'm in room 4 with John Watson. The name's Sherlock Holmes, I'm waiting on some results." The receptionist tapped some buttons on her computer. "Ahh yes. I'll send someone through immediately."
"Thanks," Sherlock mumbled and returned to the room.
"They're sending someone through," he explained, turning his attention to the old creaky campbed he never slept in and folding it away. As he was doing so, the Nurse came in carrying a tray with John's breakfast on. She set it down on the table.