Johnlock Stories

Day 3: Patching Each Other Up

Day three folks, goin strong (JK, its only been three days)

*****

"How exhilarating!" John shouts as he and Sherlock walk into 221B Baker Street.

Sherlock laughs and leans against the wall by the stairs, panting hard and trying to catch his breath.

"I'd have to agree," John starts giggling and joins Sherlock against the wall, putting his hand on Sherlocks shoulder to stabilize himself.

Sherlock hisses and John stops laughing, looking up to see what the problem was, Sherlock shrugs.

"I hurt my shoulder, but it's nothing really" John lets it go and apologizes, they had been on a case and trying to catch yet another serial killer when they were cornered in an alleyway by a few of his men and severely beat up before they got away and ran back to the flat.

"We should probably get you cleaned up, huh?" Sherlock nods and turns around, heading up the stairs, taking two at a time.

They get into their flat and make their way to the bathroom.

"I'll go grab a rag, why don't you take off your shirt," John says and Sherlock raises an eyebrow, John pretends he doesn't see it and instead walks out of the bathroom and towards the hall closet.

When he returns he has a cloth in his hand and Sherlocks top half is naked while he sits on the bathroom counter, John gives a brief smile to him and runs the tap, putting the rag under it.

He looks at Sherlock's face once its damp, avoiding his eyes and focusing on the cut below his cheekbone, before reaching his hand up, dabbing it with the soft cloth, Sherlock hisses but John continues.

"It's just a cut, it'll heal in no time," Sherlock nods knowingly, and John gives up and looks into his eyes, they're already staring at Johns, the beautiful green-blue eyes meeting with the dull grey.

John clears his throat and looks at his shoulder, there's a large scrape on it from when he fell to the ground, and John put the rag on it, once again dabbing, Sherlock bites his bottom lip but doesn't say anything, instead endures the pain.

"There you are, now where'd you toss your shirt?" John asks and Sherlock reaches behind him and grabs a white bundle, John grabs it out of his hand and turns the tap on again, running it as cold as possible.

"What about you?" Sherlock asks and John hums before looking up at him, "You look pretty beat up as well," John smiles before looking down at the shirt in his hands.

"I'll be fine," he puts the sleeve under the water and begins washing out the blood that had managed to get on it.

"Let me help," Sherlock suggests and Johns sighs to himself, looking back up at him, he nods and gives another small smile.

"Okay," he complies and Sherlock smiles back, hopping off the counter.

"My shirt will be fine, I have plenty just like it, lets clean you up first," Sherlock seemed a little eager for John to get undressed, but John of course did what Sherlock asked.

He rang out the shirt after shutting off the water and set it on the counter, he then dries off his hands and removes his jumper by pulling at the neck, Sherlock discreetly watches him, pretending to look at something else.

John then starts unbuttoning the shirt he had underneath, taking the buttons one by one at an agonizingly slow pace, completely oblivious to the effect it had on Sherlock. Once he was finally done with the buttons he pulls his arms out of the sleeves and gets on top of the counter, dangling his feet.