The sound of something falling and clattering to the floor, followed by a stream of expletives and the wrenching open of the bathroom door answered the detective.
John's incredulous expression greeted him.
"Please tell me you're joking."
The detective rolled his eyes.
"I know what we did last night. Obviously we engaged in a form of sexual intercourse."
John visibly relaxed.
"Aside from that, I managed to utter a -albeit unwelcome, but still entirely true- confession of sentiment. And you managed the same."
John stood there, mouth gaping open.
Did he just say true?
Did Sherlock actually admit to loving him?
" What I want to know is what happened!"
Sherlock threw his hands into the air.
" Between us. Something shifted. We are no longer friends, not on a completely platonic level anyway."
He took a deep breath.
"I think what I need to ask-what are we?"
That was it. The right question.
John smirked.
"Whatever you want us to be."
The detective frowned.
Okay, so obviously not the right answer then.
"Look, be it lovers, boyfriends, partners, it's just a label. We are just John and Sherlock, two men in love-"
He watched as Sherlock's eyes brightened. He had been right on that then.
"and anything else is icing."
Sherlock nodded, rolling off the bed and towards the doctor.
"So when we introduce ourselves, we are simple Sherlock Holmes and John Watson? "
John smiled, gripping Sherlock's shoulder.
"Unless 'boyfriends' sounds more appealing to you."
The detective rolled his eyes and scrunched his nose.
"Definitely not. Sounds too juvenile, too temporary. I'll think of something."
It was John's turn to roll his eyes.
"I'm sure you will. Now, I need a shower."
He glanced at Sherlock, who was grinning madly.
"You aren't going to ask me to join you?"
John spluttered.
He took in the way that Sherlock was leaning into him, how his dark eyes glinted with mischief.
"Does that idea bother you, John?" The doctor shook his head.
"Uhh, nope, no it's not that. More of, well-"
Sherlock saw signs all over John.
Steady hands. Feels under pressure.
Eyes darting about the room, refusing to look at .
Nibbling his lip. Guilty.
Guilty?
Those eyes settled on Sherlock's hair for a fraction of a second.
"Oh."
John scrunched his nose.
"Oh?"
"You DO want to take a shower, me included."
John nodded once more. He feared that the motion. Was become a habit.
"But for an entirely different reason than what I had in mind."
He blushed.
"Not entirely different."
Sherlock grinned, pushing the doctor into the bathroom and following suit.
"Sherlock?"
The detective simply shook his head, peeling out of his boxers. It took him far more than a minute to realize that his blogger was already naked.
"Where are your pants?"
John laughed, pointing at the silky blue cloth hanging on the door.
"You told me that I could only wear that, and I couldn't very well sleep in it."
Sherlock was taken aback, his aggressive approach destroyed by a wave of affection.
"I'm amazed you didn't notice earlier."
The doctor shook his head, and folded his arms.
"Hell, you slept on top of me, and you in those boxers."
The detective shrugged, taking on a blush of his own.
"I wasn't exactly focused on that particular fact." John laughed again.
He reached up and ran his hand over the detective's cheeks, bringing that head down for a kiss.
Sherlock pressed into the kiss, languid and loving caresses finding eachother's skin.
Pressed flush together, they backed to the shower, until John felt the cold chill of the glass pressed against his skin.
He shivered, and broke away.
"It's a bit cool to be standing here in the buff."
Sherlock nodded, nuzzling his nose into John's neck, while reaching over and twisting the shower on.
John moaned as Sherlock's lips found their mark from the night before. The pressure was painful, yet exciting at the same time.
"Shower."
He breathed, and found himself tugged into the warm stream of water.
Sherlock's lips once again found John's. The kiss was slow, more exploratory than sensual.
John's fingers tangled In Sherlock's still-too-dry hair, and he pulled away.
"Umm, Sherlock?."
The detective rolled his eyes, grabbing the shampoo bottle and sliding it into John's palm.
"John, would you get on with it? I know how much you've been craving this."
The doctor blushed scarlet, but nodded anyway, pouring the shampoo into his palms and leaning up for another kiss. His fingers massaged the cream into Sherlock's curls, gently tugging out tangles answer massaging the detective's scalp. The whole process had Sherlock moaning into John's lips.
The detective pulled back slightly, his forehead resting on John's.
"I never knew how nice this could feel."
The doctor chuckled.
"Surely you've had your hair washed before."
Sherlock wrapped his wandering hands loosely around John's middle.
"Yes, but this is different."
John quirked an eyebrow.
"How so?"
The detective huffed a laugh.
"Well, for starters, none of my barbers have ever been completely naked and pressed against me. Nor have any of them ever kissed me while they washed my hair. Come to think of it, none of them have ever gotten closer than their hands to my curls."
John smirked, a hand wandering down Sherlock's chest to the bed of dark curls at his cock.
"Not a very reassuring statement."
The detective's breath hitched.
"I can assure you that none of them have managed those curls." John chuckled again, his hand slipping down to take Sherlock's semi-hard cock into his hand.
Sherlock jerked, the sudden touch sending a wave of blood to his crotch.
"You do realize that these curls of yours should be outlawed. Just like your fucking cheekbones."
The detective shivered, his own hand quickly finding John's shaft.
"Wh-Why's that?"
"Too damn -Shit Sherlock-attractive. I mean really, a man -Damn your fingers- can't think with you around. Gees. You're distracting."
Sherlock snorted in acknowledgment, his hand making quick work of the doctor.
"You're no better. With your army man attitude, and your the way you are, with- whither everything. I can't get you out of my head. Believe me, I've tried."
John rolled his eyes, running his thumb over the head of Sherlock's cock.
The detective's knees wavered
"Christ. John. Do that again."
The doctor obliged, and wasrewarded with a few crippling twists of Sherlock's hand.
"Fuck, Sherlock, I'm not going to last much longer if you keep that up."
The detective grunted, quickening his pace anyway.
"Neither am I."
John removed the hand that had been left in Sherlock's hair and brought it to the man's balls. He fondled them while simultaneously speeding his strokes. Sherlock's moans matched his as the sped each other to climax.
"J-John I-"
"Yea."
A final twist and Sherlock came, spilling all over John's hand and chest. The silent scream and look of pure pleasure on his face sent the doctor over the edge. He crashed,leaning into Sherlock as they both slid to the floor.
And few moments passed before either of them recovered.
"Sherlock we should probably clean ourselves up. That was the original intention of this shower."
Sherlock groaned, but grabbed a flannel and wiped the two of them down anyway.
John managed to stand them up and finish rinsing the detective's hair , before quicly washing his own. He fumbled and switched the water off, before tossing a towel at Sherlock.
"Dry off and we can lay down for a bit longer" Sherlock grunted himself off before wrapping the towel around his hair, twisting it so it stays in place.
John watched the proceedings quizically, before slipping into his own dressing gown.
"Don't laugh John. I hate overly wet hair, but blow drying this is a bad idea."
The doctor simply smiled and shrugged.
"What ever floats your boat mate. Your gown is on the hook."
Sherlock snatching the garment and shrugged into it, refusing to tie the belt.
John didn't mention it, he simply walked out of the room and down the steps, Sherlock on his heels.