From that day on, Sherlock took note of John’s behavior in the flat. He noticed how the man took to wearing tighter shirts, when he wasn’t snuggled up in his beloved jumpers. Sherlock nearly fainted one night, he was watching Rosie while John was having a shower. John usually came out wearing all his clothes, but this time, John emerged with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. Even Rosie halted her playing to stare at her very naked father. John smoothed his hair back and walked over to the two with a warm smile on his face. He kissed Rosie’s head, earning him a smile from her. He moved to kiss Sherlock’s lips and Sherlock merely stared. John titled his head and caressed his cheek. Then, without a word he got up and walked to his bedroom to dress. The only thing that Sherlock could think of was how good he looked. His body damp, with the beads of water on his blond chest hair, the towel wrapped tightly around his waist so that the roundness of his stomach hung slightly over the edge. His scar that stretched across his shoulder was a bit pink from being under the hot water. His hair, oh his hair, wet and long and styled into the swoop that Sherlock has come to love so much.
It made Sherlock’s heart warm to see that John was finally starting to become more confident after their talk, it also excited him because he had so much more to say to John. That man deserved to be showered in love the same way he did Sherlock. They lay in bed and he saw John strip himself of his shirt and lay down beside him. Sherlock rolled over so that his head was resting on John’s unbelievably soft chest, and his hand was on top of his stomach. He closed his eyes and inhaled John’s scent. Like mint and lavender. Sherlock smirked, he was using his soap.
John’s hands were carding through Sherlock’s curls. He moaned in response. Good, he was still awake.
“Either I’ve gone mad or you are especially naked tonight.”
“Is it bothering you?” Sherlock could hear the smirk. He didn’t respond.
“I could always put a shirt back on.” When he started to move, Sherlock held him down and said, “No! I like it. Your skin is quite soft.”
John’s chest rumbled and his hand continued stroking the brown curls.
“You know, Sherlock. What you’ve said to me that day. About all the things you loved about me. At first, I thought you were taking the piss, or trying to make me feel like something I wasn’t. But I don’t know if you realize it, but, when you’re being sincere there’s this…this glint in your eyes and your face it softens and becomes what I now know as the real you.”
Sherlock’s eyes were still closed, but he wasn’t asleep.
“Anyway, what I’m trying to say is. You made me feel good about myself. And I hadn’t realized until then how good it feels to be….”
“Be what, John?”
“How good it feels to be validated, and loved.”
It must have taken a lot of courage for John to work up the nerves to say something like that. He was being so extraordinarily brave and Sherlock was so proud of him. Sherlock sat up and kissed him gently.
“John, it is my duty as your lover to tell you all the things I love about you, just as you do to me every waking moment. You’re my best friend, you know that right?”
“I know it, Sherlock. You’re my best friend too.”
Sherlock smiled even though John wouldn’t be able to see it clearly, and returned to his original position, falling asleep faster than he ever had in his life.
The next day, John finally had to return to work. It was different without him there. Sherlock had just gotten used to his constant presence again, and now, he was gone. Rosie didn’t seem to mind the absence much, she was usually with Sherlock for most the day anyway, he wondered if she even knew John was gone. He busied himself with playing with her, watching yet another rerun of Teletubbies in sheer horror, and thinking about new cases Lestrade might have. They were probably fives and below, so he let the thought go quickly. He looked at the clock, John would be due home soon and Rosie had yet to have her supper. By the time he fed her, John returned home. She could barely keep her eyes open.
“Did she give you any trouble today?”
Sherlock shook his head, afraid that his voice would wake her. John walked over to the two and gave them kisses. He looked tired.
“I’m going to have a shower, Sherlock.” He spoke lowly so he wouldn’t wake the baby. Sherlock watched as he disappeared into their room before going to Rosie’s to set her down. The shower already started, and Sherlock was quick to grab a change of clothes and walk into the bathroom. John sighed loudly, he must have just stepped in. Sherlock shed his clothes, he was meaning to do that after Rosie threw up on him. He looked down at himself, stark naked. He took a deep breath and stepped into the shower. John turned around, hair already lathered with shampoo, body soaking wet.
John laughed. The man could be butt naked, and still act like the most pompous ass in the room. John took the time to survey Sherlock. He was so thin, yet, he had muscles from all the cases he’s taken on and solved. All the years of fighting and trying to be strong. He looked like something out of a museum.
“Are we feeling a little impatient? Couldn’t wait your turn, huh?”
“I thought you might want the company. You seemed stressed today.”
John exhaled and crossed his arms. “I forgot how much patience you need to be a GP. Why do people insist on coming into a clinic when they know they’ve only got a cold?”
Sherlock smiled and moved to massage John’s shoulders. “There there, John, it’s okay. I’m here.”
“You are, you’re here and very naked too.”
“As are you.”
John moaned at the massage and the hot water hitting his body.
“We should do something about this, should we?”
Sherlock grabbed John’s face and kissed him. He kissed him again, and again, and again.
“Shhh, John. You’ve had a tiresome day at work, please, let me take care of you tonight.”
His kisses started to trail down to John’s neck, eliciting a louder moan. Sherlock smirked as he traveled lower and lower until he got to where he needed. He smiled.
John seemed pretty excited too.
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