Bittersweet Eternity (Johnlock oneshot)

Sherlock stumbled into 221B half-concious as he collapsed on the sofa, moaning slightly as he winced with pain all over his body. Two teens who he'd managed to annoy (who'd have thought) had managed to beat him up, and he had various patches of rising bruises and small trickles of blood on his face as he shut his eyes, and John ran over and turned Sherlock to face him from facing the sofa cushion.
"Sherlock, for gods sake, what have you done now?!" John admired Sherlock's head in his hands, but Sherlock pushed him away.
"Kids...hate kids..." Sherlock muttered as he went to roll back into the settee, but John stopped him to admire a particularly sore-looking cut on Sherlock's left eyebrow. Sherlock's feeble attempts to fight John away failed miserably, and he just lay there in a hurting heap of person.
"This will need first aid fast, maybe some butterfly stitches..." John muttered as he rushed off to get the first aid kit, and dug out the antiseptic. With a gentle hand, he held Sherlock's head still as he sterilised the wound, much to Sherlock's distaste, and made sure there was no chance that it could become infected as he cleaned the blood from around it as Sherlock continued with his feeble attempts to be left alone.
"Sherlock, stop it." John muttered as he dumped the used tissues and antiseptic wipes next to him as he routed through the first aid kit.
"I won't die, John." Sherlock moaned.
"Well I'm making sure of that." John said as he brought out a kit of butterfly stitches. Sherlock rolled over away from him, but John rolled him back as he turned his head to face him. Being as careful as he could, he put the butterfly stitches on the wound as his thumb tentatively flattened the stitches whilst being careful not to hurt him.
"Don't go round annoying people, okay?" John said softly as his hand stayed firmly on the side of Sherlock's face.
"You wouldn't want me to be dull now, would you?" Sherlock smiled.
"Of course not." John said as he inched closer to Sherlock, and planted a healing kiss on the butterfly stitches as Sherlock took hold of John's hand, his own warm embrace holding John where he was, but it was the warm kiss that he gave that warmed John the most, the familiar touch of the cherub lips that made him smile as the bittersweet moment held them both for an eternity. John couldn't help his thumb tracing over the perfect lips, the perfection wanting nothing other than to kiss him all over, but half-satisfied with the memorable kiss and the thumb, each kiss no less memorable than the last. It was these moments which they wanted to last forever, and they would if it wasn't for the interruptions of 'normal' life.
The bittersweet eternity; if only it was.