"Sherlock you smell like shit. Where in the world have you been?"
The detective sauntered in and threw himself across the couch. He pressed his hands together and rested the tips of his fingers against his chin, completely ignoring John's question.
"Sherlock this isn't funny, you've been gone for a day and a night and I started to worry. Lestrade, Mycroft, everyone has been looking for you. Where were you and why do you smell so terrible?"
Sherlock's eyes shot open and he glared a John letting out a sigh,
"Really John? I think I can handle being on my own for more than a day. If you must know I was working on a case that was more or less in the woods."
"What do you mean in the woods? Sherlock did you spend the night in the woods? What were you thinking? There's all sorts of things in the woods, you could have been eaten for Christ sake. And besides that, you would have been freezing, it's not exactly warm out."
With that John walked over to where Sherlock laid on the couch in order to get a closer look at the detective. His face was paler than normal but his curls clung to his forehead with sweat. John put his hand on Sherlock's forehead and he knew instantly, fever.
"Sherlock you can be so dumb at times. What were you thinking going out there and freezing? You have bad fever, you look terrible, and you smell. You didn't answer my question before, why do you smell so terrible?"
"I'm fine John, really, no need to worry. I also may have encountered a skunk."
"Jesus Sherlock, really? Come on, let's get you in the bath so you can clean up and maybe smell a bit better."
Sherlock groaned, but the smell must have been getting to him because he got up from the couch and walked towards the bathroom. John hadn't noticed before but Sherlock was quite weak and his legs wobbled as he attempted to walk. Suddenly the detective was falling and John was quick to reach out and catch him.
"Sherlock, are you alright? You're really weak, let me help you."
"I'm fine John, must have just tripped on a nail in the floor board or something."
"Oh don't play 'I'm fine' with me Sherlock. I'm not exactly blind you know."
With that John scooped his arm under Sherlock's legs and proceeded to carry the much too light detective to the bathroom. Once they reached the bathroom John set Sherlock down and walked over to turn the bath on. Sherlock sat and watched while John waited for the water to warm up and fill the tub. John reached over and grabbed a bottle of bubble bath, adding a squirt to the water. Finally the tub was filled and John turned the water off, swinging around to face the detective who was still sitting on the floor.
"Oh sorry Sherlock, I'll leave so you can get undressed and into the tub."
As soon as John said it, he knew that he was wrong. Sherlock was now shaking uncontrollably, the fever trying hard to break. Sherlock's eyes were wide, and for the first time ever John saw that Sherlock was in need of help. John put on his doctor face and reached down to help Sherlock undress. First his shirt, then his trousers, and finally his underpants. He had seen Sherlock in very little clothing before but this was the first time he had seen the detective completely undressed. John knew that if Sherlock had any feelings towards John the way John had feelings towards Sherlock, this situation would be very different. John's inner-doctor couldn't help but cringe at how tiny Sherlock was. His skin stretched tight across his bones that stuck out way too far. Neither of them said anything as John helped Sherlock into the tub.
"Obviously you haven't eaten anything recently, let me go put the kettle on and make some soup. Just call me if you need me."
Sherlock just nodded, but his eyes thanked John graciously.
John had only been gone a few minutes when he heard the water running. 'Hm, he must have wanted some more warm water', John thought. He continued working around the kitchen but 10 minutes passed and the water was still running. 'What in the world was Sherlock doing?' John gave up on guessing and walked towards the bathroom,
"Sherlock? Is everything alright?"
The detective didn't answer but as John opened the door to the bathroom, his answer was right in front of him. A tower of bubbles was piled high above the tub and only Sherlock's head could be seen poking out. His eyes were filled with a childish wonder and in his hand was an empty bottle of bubble bath.
"Jesus, Sherlock, did you put the whole bottle in? What do you think you're doing?"
Sherlock's expression quickly changed to that of a hurt child and he looked down in shame.
"Sorry John, I've never used bubble bath before, I didn't know it would make so many bubbles."
John saw how hurt the detective looked and started laughing.
"You're not in trouble Sherlock, you just look ridiculous."
Sherlock attempted to frown but his mouth betrayed him and the corners twitched up into a smile. John walked over to the bath tub and took a seat next to the tub, grabbing a scrubber.
"Alright let's see if we can get some of that stink out, shall we?"
Sherlock nodded and scooted over in the tub.
"What are you doing Sherlock?"
Sherlock looked at John confused,
"Are you not getting in the tub with me?"
John laughed,
"Um, I wasn't exactly planning on it. People might talk, we don't want that."
Sherlock rolled his eyes.
"John, I'm not dumb. While I know that we've been pretending that we're just friends, I know how you really feel. Your eyes dilate, your pulse quickens, all the signs are there. You don't have to pretend with me John, I know how you really feel."
John nearly choked at how Sherlock threw everything out there in the open, pretending like it was completely ordinary.
"Yeah alright, but it's kind of hard for me when it's only a one sided thing."
"John if it was really one sided would I have let you completely strip me and then offered for you to come bathe with me? I don't think so. I obviously feel the same about you. All the signs are there, if you were to merely observe."
(John's POV) I only pause a moment, letting out a sigh of relief I hadn't realized I was holding until that moment. I quickly pull off my clothes and climb into the tub with Sherlock. We say nothing as I lean back and pull Sherlock to sit between my legs, his back facing me. I lather my hands with shampoo and start to massage my fingers through Sherlock's curly locks. He moans and pushes his head into my hand, silently begging for me to continue. It's quite relaxing and surprisingly domestic. I finish with Sherlock's hair and continue on to wash the rest of his body. I grab the bar of soap and start scrubbing, first his back and slowly I move to his sides. Sherlock about jumps fifty feet in the air as I touch his sides.
"Sorry."
"It's okay, did I hurt you?"
"No, it's just that I'm a bit ticklish."
"Is that right?" I say as a smile creeps across my face.
I reach back to Sherlock's sides and begin to tickle him. He rolls around in the tub, giggling like a school girl.
"Stop John! Stop!"
Somehow Sherlock ends up facing me and we both sit there facing each other, crisscrossed legs, laughing and panting. We're both covered in bubbles and I notice the bathroom floor is now soaked and also adorning suds. I reach up and wipe some bubbles from Sherlock's face, but I let my hand linger, caressing his sharp cheek bones. The mood changes and we stare into each other's eyes, a silent conversation. Slowly we both lean forward and our lips meet. It's a dream. Complete electricity. Sherlock's lips are perfect in every way and somehow he knows how to move them perfectly so that I am left to melt. Suddenly Sherlock pulls away laughing. I stare at him confused,
"What? What is it? This better not be your sick idea of a joke Sherlock."
Sherlock smiles,
"No John, I would never do that. My feelings are completely real. It's just that I thought with you being a doctor and all you would know better than to kiss someone who is sick. Guess you're not going to be feeling well the next few days."
I smile with relief and punch Sherlock playfully.
"Well I guess that means we might need to have a bath again."
"I think I'm okay with that", Sherlock says, pulling my face just inches from his.
"I love you, you sick git.".
"I love you too."
With that Sherlock closed the space and our lips meet once again as we hold each other close, completely covered in bubbles. I finally pull away,
"You still smell like skunk though."