John walked up the stairs of their flat at 221B, tired and exhausted from the day. He exhaled as he topped the stairs and walked into the living room, the sound of Sherlock playing his violin filled the room. He saw Sherlock standing by the window in his pajamas and stripped bathrobe, usual loungewear for him. He watched Sherlock, his gentle movements with every stroke of the bow, the way his whole body got into the music. It was quite beautiful to look at.
"Long day?" Sherlock said as he finished up his tune.
"Unbelievabley." He replied in a sigh. He walked into the kitchen, opening the fridge. He rifled through the shelves to find food, accidentally coming across a half dissected tongue. He cringed and closed the fridge.
"Well, there goes my appetite."
Sherlocked smiled as he knew what John was referring to.
"Sorry, it was the only way to keep it fresh."
John waved his hand in the air. "I am never shocked anymore, Sherlock. I am going to take a shower."
Sherlock was reading his music as John said that. His thoughts emptied as all he could think about was the wet Doctor, washing himself in a hot shower. He felt strange, quickly pushing it out of his mind, continuing writing notes down on his sheet music.
At that moment he heard the water turn on, the door slightly cracked as usual. He looked over in the direction of the shower, one eyebrow raised. And unbelievable thought crossed his mind.
Maybe John leaves the door open slightly for a reason.
Sherlock slowly put down his violin and started to walk towards the bathroom. His movements were ever so slow, his breath low and heavy. He reached the bathroom, standing only a few feet from the door, the light spewing onto the floor.
He heard the water falling onto the ground, the random gaps of heavier drops as John washed himself. This aroused Sherlock.
