Study in towels
Dr. Watson was getting shower - after a very gruelling day - when suddenly the bathroom door opened.
"John, have you seen my pipe?"
He stiffened in surprise (was accustomed to Sherlock's oddities and common bad timing, but the detective had never disturbed him in bathroom), then turned off the water, shift the shower enclosure wall a bit, and stuck his hand out of the small gab for a towel: "Give me that light-green one, which lies on the washbasin, if you don't mind. But you do not – obviously, (about anything)."
Holmes handed it to John, who immediately wrapped himself in, and got out of the shower, angrily with an indignant face.
"A pipe –" he said, "I haven't seen. And I am pretty sure, that it is not here! This is a bathroom you know?!"
"Of course I know. I live here." Responded Holmes with a fleeting glance at Watson, and was looking around for his pipe again (that pipe, it was mischievous gift from his older brother Mycroft, and Sherlock had some roguish ideas of what to do with it - and those ideas had very little to do with smoking or puffing).
John wanted to say something like: "Get the hell out of here, I'm not finished yet!" but his opened mouth was interrupted by detective's voice: "Why do you have that towel around your whole body?"
"What?" He asked, totally confused by that question (is there something wrong about the way how he has it?).
"Well, you know: you are a man, and men tied up their towels around the waist, because they don't have breasts to hide, and I assume, that you do not either. But, John, you do have it over your shoulders, so I ask: why?"
"Yes, I must disappoint you: I do not have breasts." He said, a little annoyed, because he knew already, that there is no way how to avoid the true substance: why he has his towel as he has it. But, maybe, he will succeed in glossing over it - somehow - so he continued: "And I ask: what's it to you?"
"Well, I should say: nothing, mainly because you don't have the breasts, which I was hoping for, but it really does interest me. Is there some special reason, John? Please tell me – I would do my deduction, but... I'm too busy with searching for that pipe now."
Watson pursed his lips and sighted: "Right then – look at me."
Sherlock did so.
"Now take a look at the bath towel,"
Sherlock did so.
"Do you see? That towel is almost much longer than I am, which means, that if I do so, and tided it around my waist, I would look like some kid in its mother skirt."
Holmes chuckled: "Oh please, show me that!"
"No." Replied John, without interest.
"Please."
"Will you abandon this bathroom after that?"
"Yes."
"Ookay..." Sighted Watson, "but first: turn your back."
"What? Why?"
"Sherlock," he cocked his head a little, surprised that the Detective doesn't get it, "I'm naked under that towel and I think it wouldn't be appropriate to show you something more than just my kid-in-skirt-look."
"Yea," affirmed Holmes and turn his back. John convinced himself about that his flatmate is not peeking and quickly moved the towel. (I'm not quite sure, if Sherlock did saw something in a small mirror in front of him, which - obviously - Watson had forgotten, but no matter, he will see – possibly ;P) "All right," said the Doctor, unenthusiastic - because he knows exactly how he looks right now, "now you can."
Holmes turned back very keenly – at the sight of John, he started to giggle.
"Okay, okay – I know. Now leave please!"
But Sherlock abruptly stopped himself and stared at John.
"What?" Doctor asked (he was already fed up with Holmes in the bathroom) and went on: "is there something else wrong? Do I have my toothbrush in a strange position or it is my green-apple shampoo?!"
"No." Said the Detective distantly, and was keeping on.
Watson suddenly realized: it is the scar - the old, bloody scar, on his left shoulder.
"Stop staring at that!" He broke the silence with a quivering voice and hides his shoulder with his right hand.
"Please," said Sherlock quietly, "let me see."
John - confusedly - frowned a little, then he looked at his flatmate... when their eyes met, Sherlock repeated inaudibly: "Please."
Watson slowly moved his hand down. This way he manifests that Holmes can take a look (even that he didn't know why exactly Sherlock wants to).
The Detective came closer, so Watson could smell that Holmes' had a cigarette this morning, and Sherlock could smell his blogger's green-apple shampoo. (...) The consulting detective bended down and watched the scar - examined it. Then he reached out his hand, and wanted to touch it, but John stopped him: "Don't –"
Sherlock comforted him kindly: "Don't worry, I'll be gentle," and carefully run his fingers over the scarf.
"Tell me," he started, with narrowed eyes fixed on the old wound, "the bullet – is it still in?"
"Yes."
"Does it hurt?"
"Sometimes, yes."
"Does it hurt now?"
"Well, yeah, a bit – hot shower doesn't make it good."
"Hm, I see." Nodded the Detective - still gets his head close to John's shoulder - and then he softly pressed his lips on it. "What about now?"
"Um," (...) "better (?)" Watson was so surprised by Sherlock's behaviour, that he wasn't capable to tell him something like: For God's sake, stop you crank! Or: Does it seem okay to you, to do this? Or (maybe the most in-character phrase): Sherlock, what the hell are you doing?! (But, as I wrote, he didn't say anything of this.)
"Better –" replied Holmes, "that's not good enough," and started to kissing his flatmate's neck.
First, he was slow; kindly crossing his lower lip over John's skin, then - he added his tongue (but only the tip). When he did it, Watson closed his eyes with blinking and a little breath, but then he realized what they are doing and what would may happen to him, if Sherlock will be keeping on. "Sherlock," he said resolutely, "stop it."
"Oh," wondered Holmes, "is it good already?"
"Yes – perfectly fine... um, thank you." John answered in a very abashed mood and resumed: "Now, would you please leave?"
Sherlock withdrew himself from Watson, looked down on his towel and asked: "John, are you aroused?"
The Doctor popped his eyes at the Detective (who even did not have to be a genius to find this out), then he glanced down, and back to Sherlock: "No. D-definitely not!"
(pfff, of course he was, who wouldn't be when Sherlock is near? But John is a very dignified man and these types don't do such nutty things like pounce on someone in bathroom with only a towel on their body – yes, I know: John is certainly passionate, but also, he's got trust issues and a strong moral principles, so first then he will have the relationship or sex or something more with our beloved Detective, he has got every right to be a little puzzled)
"Now LEAVE! I haven't finished my shower yet!"
"And I haven't finished you – yet." Countered Homes, and pinned Watson on the wall, pressed his crotch to John's.
But Watson was not going to tolerate it (he was a soldier, you know? - sure you do), and he began to fight back...
Well, now I have problem; who will be the winner?
Doctor John Hamish Watson is obviously a strong man with some army training, so he could easily overpowered his persistent flatmate, but the Consulting Detective; Sherlock Holmes also has a pretty good physical condition (due to all those unexpected visits from his disgruntled enemies, who do not like to get their hands dirty – like a certain Mr. Jim). So, I'm not quite sure about this. Moreover: John's still only in towel (plus: his situation under it), and you must admit that this is not a very good equipment for fight...
Initially, he shoved Sherlock away (not hard, but sharply). Holmes endured the attack and promptly returned John to the previous position - with hands on the wall, closely alongside John's head (one from each side).
"I want you," said the Detective with steady gaze.
"Kidding right?" replied the Doctor and quickly, like a mouse, ducked under his flatmate's hand, started to walk away (with sad thought that the bathroom is probably finished for him today), but Sherlock immediately halted the Doctor; grasped his wrist, turned him back, and kissed him possessively.
"Stop it you nut!" John snapped and hit Sherlock's chest. "I haven't even had my breakfast yet!"
"Let me be your breakfast..." said the Detective and clamp his body to Watson's.
John banged him once again, but after a while – he slowly went down...
They were kissing and touching each other very heatedly. Sherlock took off his shirt, then - with Watson's assistance - his trousers.
"We –" breathed Holmes "can manage both."
Watson unstuck his lips from Sherlock's jugular notch: "Both?" he asked.
"Our needs. Your need - the shower, as well as mine."
"Sex," supplied John.
"No," opposed Holmes, "the pipe."
"What?!" Said the Doctor with a little squeak.
"Just kidding – I love your face when you are baffled..." Answered the Detective and wanted to kiss his blogger again, but John did not.
"Well, I'm glad," he said, "that I amused you–"and briskly walked out of the bathroom (it was so cute, because he had to hold the towel, which extended to his toes, to do not stumble over it).
Now Sherlock is the one with muddled-face; he stood there, crestfallen, wondering about what he had done wrong... but suddenly: John got back.
"Here," he said, "your pipe," (I will not even comment on the fact, that it was directly on the table, and Sherlock knew it with absolute certainty, but he wanted to have an excuse for disrupting John's morning hygiene.) and showed it to Holmes - then put it on a shelf. "Now we can move to satisfy your secondary need."
Holmes smiled: "Fine." Then he opened the shower enclosure and motioned to John to go first.
When Doctor passed him, Sherlock stepped on his towel (which immediately fell down).
Watson turned his head with raised eyebrows.
The Consulting Detective make a broadly smile.
"Stop grinning you Cheshire cat," said John reprovingly, then he beckoned toward the shower, "and move your (incredibly gorgeous) ass."
"Okay..."
Water flowed for a pretty long time.
And I think that they both fulfilled their needs.
(For Dr. Watson it was definitely the best shower and the best breakfast in his whole life.)
