Tectonic Platonic
Title: Tectonic Platonic
Summary: A blending of 8dreamcatcher8's prompts here and here.
Warning: partial nudity. Showering.
Rating: PG-13 to be safe.
Pairing: None really. S/J if you want to make it that way.
They would need the shock blanket this time. John had been wrestling a thief with a knife and fell out a first floor window. The knife nearly slit his throat. Thankfully, the nick on John's neck was his only injury other than a few bruises.
It had been nearly three hours and he hadn't said a word. He let Sherlock talk to the police and let the hospital staff check him over before they sent him home.
"Get him in a shower." One of the nurses said to Sherlock. "It'll help with the shock."
He merely nodded and herded John into the cab.
This was not the army doctor he knew at all. This man was small and weak, leaning against Sherlock's shoulder a bit while he stared into nothingness. Sherlock, unsure of how to deal with the sudden change, put his hand on John's where it rested on the doctor's knee.
When they arrived at Baker street, Sherlock helped John up the stairs (his limp had returned) and into the bathroom, sitting his friend on the side of the tub. Perhaps this was a good time to follow an expert's advice.
"John, you need to get into the shower. You're filthy and that nurse said it would help." Sherlock said. John didn't really react. "John. John." He sighed in half-frustration. "Alright, since you can't seem to, I'll do it for you."
Taking off another person's clothes was awkward and difficult. John wasn't exactly helping, but clearly he was in no state to be doing so. Sherlock tossed the jumper and shirt on the floor irreverently and untied John's shoes. He had John stand up and pulled the jeans and socks away together.
Then, he stopped. "I suppose you wouldn't appreciate me helping you out of these." He said, more to himself than to John. "Well, into the shower, then."
John was compliant but looked worried when Sherlock moved to settle on the closed toilet seat. The detective sighed again.
"You want me to help?" The slight tug on his sleeve was clear enough.
A moment later, with Sherlock in just his pants as well, he stepped into the shower with John. He figured it was a good use of the hot water if nothing else.
Sherlock decided that perhaps standing was not going to make this easy, so he sat John down and settled between the man's knees. Their height difference was less apparent now. Turning on the water, Sherlock started picking pebbles out of John's hair.
It was oddly soothing, Sherlock thought in passing. No wonder primates made a habit of it. And it had never occurred to him that John's hair, short as it is, might be that soft. He refrained from indulging though, deftly massaging clarity of thought into John's head and body. By the time John was clean, he was practically pushing Sherlock away in embarrassment.
"I haven't had anyone help bathe me since I got shot." John said as they dried off as if it explained everything. Thankfully, for Sherlock, it did.
"Which is why, in your shock, you requested my help. It's understandable, John."
"Thank you."
"I'm not leaving you on your own tonight."
"Sorry?"
"I don't think it's safe. The thief wasn't caught."
"Sherlock, I really don't think-"
"I do."
There was no room for argument, so John walked into his room and pulled on his pyjamas. It was almost morning and quite cold, so he slid under the covers, Sherlock settling into the chair by his bed. After a moment, John turned to face Sherlock.
"It's freezing. You should at least get a blanket."
"I'll be fine."
"Sherlock."
"I burned the one I had. It was for an experiment."
"Then get over here. I don't mind sharing as long as you don't kick."
Sherlock kicked a little, but John didn't really mind.
~Fin
A/N: I hope that was alright. Not feeling the most inspired at the moment, so this is a bit of a brain vomit...
Oh, and to explain the title in case you didn't get it; tectonic was in reference to being "shaken up." I think the platonic bit of obvious. :)
Summary: A blending of 8dreamcatcher8's prompts here and here.
Warning: partial nudity. Showering.
Rating: PG-13 to be safe.
Pairing: None really. S/J if you want to make it that way.
They would need the shock blanket this time. John had been wrestling a thief with a knife and fell out a first floor window. The knife nearly slit his throat. Thankfully, the nick on John's neck was his only injury other than a few bruises.
It had been nearly three hours and he hadn't said a word. He let Sherlock talk to the police and let the hospital staff check him over before they sent him home.
"Get him in a shower." One of the nurses said to Sherlock. "It'll help with the shock."
He merely nodded and herded John into the cab.
This was not the army doctor he knew at all. This man was small and weak, leaning against Sherlock's shoulder a bit while he stared into nothingness. Sherlock, unsure of how to deal with the sudden change, put his hand on John's where it rested on the doctor's knee.
When they arrived at Baker street, Sherlock helped John up the stairs (his limp had returned) and into the bathroom, sitting his friend on the side of the tub. Perhaps this was a good time to follow an expert's advice.
"John, you need to get into the shower. You're filthy and that nurse said it would help." Sherlock said. John didn't really react. "John. John." He sighed in half-frustration. "Alright, since you can't seem to, I'll do it for you."
Taking off another person's clothes was awkward and difficult. John wasn't exactly helping, but clearly he was in no state to be doing so. Sherlock tossed the jumper and shirt on the floor irreverently and untied John's shoes. He had John stand up and pulled the jeans and socks away together.
Then, he stopped. "I suppose you wouldn't appreciate me helping you out of these." He said, more to himself than to John. "Well, into the shower, then."
John was compliant but looked worried when Sherlock moved to settle on the closed toilet seat. The detective sighed again.
"You want me to help?" The slight tug on his sleeve was clear enough.
A moment later, with Sherlock in just his pants as well, he stepped into the shower with John. He figured it was a good use of the hot water if nothing else.
Sherlock decided that perhaps standing was not going to make this easy, so he sat John down and settled between the man's knees. Their height difference was less apparent now. Turning on the water, Sherlock started picking pebbles out of John's hair.
It was oddly soothing, Sherlock thought in passing. No wonder primates made a habit of it. And it had never occurred to him that John's hair, short as it is, might be that soft. He refrained from indulging though, deftly massaging clarity of thought into John's head and body. By the time John was clean, he was practically pushing Sherlock away in embarrassment.
"I haven't had anyone help bathe me since I got shot." John said as they dried off as if it explained everything. Thankfully, for Sherlock, it did.
"Which is why, in your shock, you requested my help. It's understandable, John."
"Thank you."
"I'm not leaving you on your own tonight."
"Sorry?"
"I don't think it's safe. The thief wasn't caught."
"Sherlock, I really don't think-"
"I do."
There was no room for argument, so John walked into his room and pulled on his pyjamas. It was almost morning and quite cold, so he slid under the covers, Sherlock settling into the chair by his bed. After a moment, John turned to face Sherlock.
"It's freezing. You should at least get a blanket."
"I'll be fine."
"Sherlock."
"I burned the one I had. It was for an experiment."
"Then get over here. I don't mind sharing as long as you don't kick."
Sherlock kicked a little, but John didn't really mind.
~Fin
A/N: I hope that was alright. Not feeling the most inspired at the moment, so this is a bit of a brain vomit...
Oh, and to explain the title in case you didn't get it; tectonic was in reference to being "shaken up." I think the platonic bit of obvious. :)