10. In which Sherlock and John have a shower

"Drug traffickers caught, justice restored to the world, case closed," Lestrade said as the team arrived back at the Stake-Out House for what they all hoped would be the last time. "Good work everyone."

"I am glad that's over," Donovan muttered as she hung up her coat.

"I think we all are," replied Lestrade. "Okay, an hour and a half to get everything packed and then we can go home."

There was a collective sigh of relief.

"I'm having a shower," Sherlock announced, glancing down at his muddied clothes; the result of chasing the ring leader of the drug traffickers through a road of dirty puddles.

"Good idea," Lestrade said. "Because you're not getting in a taxi looking like that."

Sherlock gave him a brief glare, then turned on his heel and left the room with John following shortly behind him.

Sherlock reached the bathroom and grabbed John by the arm, "And when I say that I'm having a shower, what I mean is that we're having a shower."

John grinned as Sherlock dragged him into the bathroom and shoved him up against the door. Long, tapered fingers slid up under John's shirt, peeling it away from his sweat-drenched skin and over his head. Their lips met in a hot kiss and in a matter of seconds Sherlock's tongue was flicking at the entrance to John's mouth, begging for entry. John parted his lips, sucking Sherlock's tongue into his mouth and earning a groan of pleasure from his lover.

Sherlock toed off his shoes as John began to unbutton his shirt, practically ripping it from his shoulders in his eagerness. Sherlock lowered his head to kiss and suck his way down John's neck, his right hand moving to palm John's cock through his jeans.

"Turn the shower on," John managed to say, his breathing ragged with desire.

Sherlock obliged, and soon the room was filled with spiralling tendrils of steam, fogging up the mirror and turning the walls damp. They both stripped the remainder of their clothes and got into the shower, which was thankfully just about big enough for the two of them. The water was deliciously hot, cascading down their bodies as their lips met again. John pinned Sherlock up against the cold tiles and dropped to his knees, grazing the sensitive skin of Sherlock's hip with his teeth. He chanced a glance upwards, seeing Sherlock staring back down at him, his cheeks flushed and his pupils blown impossibly wide with arousal. Maintaining the eye contact in a way he knew would make Sherlock squirm with lust, John leant forwards and took the tip of Sherlock's erection into his mouth.

"Fuck!" Sherlock's eyes closed as his back arched off of the tiles.

John placed a steadying hand on his hips and swirled his tongue around the head of Sherlock's cock, knowing that it would drive him mad. Just as he predicted, Sherlock manoeuvred John back up to kiss him, and the taste of himself on John's lips made him groan out loud.

"I thought you would want me to suck you off," John murmured between kisses.

Sherlock's reply came from right next to John's ear. "You're going to be a tease about it, so we're going to do it this way instead." He ran a hand down John's torso and wrapped his fingers around both of their aching cocks. This was not going to take long at all.

John knew, unfortunately from experience, that trying to get off in the shower without any form of lubricant would end in tears, but Sherlock leaked precome like no man John had ever been with, and it made everything just that little bit easier. Sherlock's hand moved effortlessly over them both, spreading the slickness between them and making John's toes curl. He leant forwards, lavishing the hollow of Sherlock's throat with his tongue while Sherlock's hand sped up between them.

"Oh God, Sherlock," John groaned, his face pressed against Sherlock's shoulder. "I'm gonna…" His whole body shuddered and shook as he came, his vision momentarily going white as he spilt himself over Sherlock's hand. Sherlock stroked him through it, until he followed a few seconds later, his fingers digging into John's back painfully hard.

When John came back to himself, it was to find Sherlock leaning limply against the tiled wall, his eyes closed and breathing deep.

"You alright?" John muttered, redirecting the shower spray to wash away the mess they had made.

"Mmm," replied Sherlock. He pressed a kiss to John's forehead and reached for the shampoo.

"God we're like overly-hormonal teenagers." John took the shampoo off him and washed his hair quickly, before lathering himself up with shower gel.

"I find it doesn't bother me too much," Sherlock said with a smile.

Once they were both finished, they reluctantly stepped out of the shower and dried off.

Lestrade banged on the bathroom door. "Oi, Sherlock, I really don't want to ask this, but is John in there with you?"

"Of course he is," Sherlock replied.

"I'm not going to ask what you're doing-"

"If you had half a brain you could figure it out."

"- but can you please hurry up because we're going to be late."

Sherlock raised an eyebrow at John, who was busy sucking love-bites into Sherlock's neck. "The quicker we get home, the quicker we can continue."

"I don't know about you, but I'm planning on continuing in the taxi," John smirked.

Sherlock laughed.