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The room was filled with steam by the time John stepped back into the bathroom of 221B. Another long day after another long case(this one only being only a 5 but Sherlock was desperate) and it turned out it was the stepsister who did it after all! Which meant John, whose job it was to watch the stepsister and be ready to pounce if he got the “It was the stepsister -SH” text, was to tackle a 17 year old girl in a park. Which led to, of course, a justice serving motorcycle gang who just happened to be taking a picnic in the park that day to then tackle John in response. They offered John an apology and a beer after hearing the reason of the attack but John opted to go back to the flat and take a very much deserved shower.
John turned to the bathroom mirror and wiped an oval in the condensation to see the damage done to his face. There was a slight bruise on his jaw, a cut on his cheekbone,
“Could be worse”.
He disrobed from his jumper and well, everything else, and stepped into the now hazy fog of the shower. He jerked to the back of the tub when he burned himself in stream. Quickly he leant over and turned the nozzle to a reasonable temperature before stepping back in and letting it wash over his face and head. He continued his typical shower routine until he heard a squeak of a doorknob.
“Sherlock I’m in here.” John said only temporarily stopping his movements.
The door continued to open and footsteps moved unstoppingly closer. Sherlock then appeared in John’s view in front of the mirror, fulling clothed.
“Sherlock!” He shouted covering his body(hardly) with his arms even though the glass door of the shower was fogged up on the bottom half enough to cover up his important bits.
“Oh calm down I’ll only be here a minute.” Sherlock looked nonchalantly into the previously carved oval in the mirror as he turned on the faucet and threw some of the water onto his face.
John didn’t know what to do. He knows to expect anything at this point from Sherlock but there were plenty more sinks in the flat, in the building for fucks sake! All he could do was stare at his flatmate in the mirror before scoffing unbelievably and, now more self consciously, continuing his “relaxing” shower.
John was washing shampoo out of his hair almost forgetting Sherlock was the less than 6 feet away from him then he was, when he caught a glimpse of Sherlock looking observationally and… intently? at him through the reflection of the mirror.
John stopped what he was doing and raised his eyebrows looking right into his flatmates eyes, “Yes? Something you want?” It was Sherlock’s choice to even be in here, if he had a problem he could tell him.
Sherlock shifted his gaze back to himself in the mirror and started fixing his already perfect hair before speaking.
“You are injured from the case.”
“Yeah that’s what happens when you slam a 17 year old to the ground in a public park, murderer or not…-”
“I’m sorry.”
John looked confusedly back at his partner in the mirror. Sherlock was looking down staring at the sink stroking the soap bottle… anxiously?
“Wait- sorry. Your what-”
“It was through my actions that that happened to you. If I was sure it was the stepsister I would have made sure she was in a more discreet location before telling you too-”
John was still in a state of disbelief but managed to cut him off before he, most likely in Sherlock’s mind, embarrassed himself anymore.
“Sherlock. Shut up, you’re fine. It’s part of the job.”
John was still somewhat frozen, staring at him in the mirror in… awe, to be completely honest. Just when you think that your flatmate walking into the bathroom whilst you were taking a shower was going to be the most surprising thing he could do in one day…
Sherlock looked back at John through the reflection. His normal deducing face, then he glanced up and down at the little less foggy now glass divider.
“I would hate for anything I would cause, to cause harm to… your body.”
John stopped. Just stopped mid everything only turning his eyes back to Sherlock who now was back to staring at his stupid flawless face in the mirror as casually but with a twinge of… smugness? He was running his hand through his curls to slow and he was tilting his head to much to expose that stupid godlike-statue neck.
John’s cheeks slowly turned pink. He blinked his wide eyes and shook his head staring at the white wet floor of the tub. Turning his head back to the reflection slowly he looked at Sherlock then blinked back to the the tub floor and fastly, and short of breath asked/mumbled,
“Do you want to help me wash off from today?”
Sherlock looked back at John’s face, not that he would admit it but somewhat surprised. He triumphantly smiled as he turned his back to the mirror to face the shower. Then he began stripping.