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“I am going for a shower,” John says, because John is considerate and hopefully it'll register in Sherlock's distant mind that John is gone and as such Sherlock won't end up talking to an empty room because he thinks John is still there. He folds up his newspaper before placing it on the table and stands up.
He's almost out of the room when he hears Sherlock's questioning voice.
“Why don't you just say you are going to masturbate?”
John stops dead in his tracks, one foot already over the threshold, and turns around slowly. “Excuse me?”
“You had a shower this morning while I was out, you haven't done any strenuous activity so no sweating, you haven't been to the clinic so no medical smell to take off your skin. You're perfectly clean. You don't need a shower,” he says in his deducing voice.
“Whether or not I will be wanking is not of the matter as I will be in the shower regardless, therefore I am going to take a shower,” John stares daggers at Sherlock's head because the consulting detective is still in the same position, laying on sofa, facing away from John.
“The only reason you are going to shower is to masturbate. And the only reason you are doing it in the shower is because you can't make up a proper excuse to go up to your room in order to masturbate. I know you're going to masturbate. You know I know you're going to masturbate. So why don't you save yourself another shower and just go up to your bedroom where you can have more fun than in the shower?”
“Because I enjoy showers regardless of whether or not there is a wank in it. I may not have had an arduous day, and I may not smell but I like to wash and I like that the water relaxes my body. So tell you what, seeing as we both know I will be wanking in the very near future and you seem so adamant that I not wank in the shower, here's what I'm going to do: I am going to take a shower, I am going to not masturbate in said shower, but instead I am gonna go up and do it in my bedroom after I finish my shower,” he makes sure to fit in the word shower as many times as possible, because damnit, he was and is going for a shower!
“Good decision,” Sherlock says. “You'll be better off for it.”
John squints his eyes.
“And now you can say that you're going to shower with honesty as you like to be squeaky clean when you have the time to play,” Sherlock adds.
“I am going to kill you one of these days,” John utters.
“You mean I am going to kill you,” Sherlock corrects and then he tilts his head backwards, so he can look at John upside down. “With just my mouth,” he adds.
John's hands are by his sides, hands closed in fists and he has no clue how to reply, but Sherlock keeps looking at him.
“How about–” Sherlock begins as though throwing a newly formed idea in the air, as though every single one of his words haven't carefully been measured. “I join you in the shower, help you clean, and then further more help you by substituting your toys?”
John remains silent for a very long moment. “You are very good at toying with me, Sherlock. Congratulations.”
Sherlock sits up, and turns towards John, feet firmly planted on the floor. “Will you give me your permission to join you?” Sherlock asks.
John audibly swallows before answering. “I don't believe you.”
“Will you consent?” Sherlock repeats as he looks off to the side.
“What's the point in consenting when I don't believe you?” John asks.
Sherlock looks back at John, and stands up although he doesn't move any closer. “So that I can make you believe.”