One shots (johnlock fluff mostly)

Detangling

"Sherlock where have you been? Look at the state of you!" John exclaimed when he looked over his newspaper to the man standing in the doorway having just got in.

Sherlock was in tatters, his suit was mud stained and had remnants of crushed leaves stick to it, he had two leafs in his hair as well as all the grit of London and clearly very windswept and his brogues were scuffed and scratched.

"I went shopping" Sherlock explained with a sigh and somehow out of nowhere seemed to procure a carton of milk out of the depths of his coat. "See?"

"And that explains everything" John sighed in agreement, obviously that couldn't have been the whole store big hat would come out at some point. Eventually.

Sherlock went off to change and came back in his pyjamas and then went back into the bathroom to brush the knots from his hair.

John heard several irritated groans before the clatter if the brush being thrown into the sink, then the tread of heavy footsteps, slam of the bathroom door followed by muffled (carpeted) foorsteps, and then the gloomy shadow of his flatmates that then proceeded to sulk on the sofa.

It had always amused John in a way, that someone could do such an undignified thing as sulking but still seem dignified, to lay in such a vulnerable position but still hold an air of power about them. Maybe it was only Sherlock. Holmes' blood?

"Need any help?" John offered, he'd had to help Harry out a lot when they were kids, he was a few years older and occasionally she would come home from a windy day at school and her shoulder length hair would have matted itself, John, the big brother he was, occasionally helped her, the days they got on.

To Johns question, he only received a huff, that if it had been words would have been something like, you wouldn't even know what to do anyway! But yet again Sherlock didn't know everything about John and so that was unlikely.

John set the newspaper down and went off to the bathroom to fetch the brush along with Sherlock's own conditioner. Seemingly happy with his supplies and then remembering the fact Sherlock hadn't even bothered to wipe the grime from his face, he took a flannel and filled a bowl with warm soapy water.

He took it out and set it all on the coffee table for the time being whilst he now had to get Sherlock enough out of his sulk to allow him to do what he needed to do.

"Get up Sherlock" John probed, poking Sherlock side where he helped and curled further in on himself protecting him from tickling fingers. John gave up after several more attempts and lifted Sherlock off the sofa before dropping him in his green chair next to the fireplace.

Sherlock curled his knees up to his chest and continued his sulk. John took the flannel, soaking it in the water before squeezing it out. Sherlock had his eyes closed trying to block out the world when John applied the wet flannel to his brow and wiped down making him gasp as the water trickled past his eye.

John chuckled when he was looked at in the most accusatory stare he'd  ever seen and continued to wipe off the dirt.

Once the detectives face was clean he set the bowl of water aside and took the brush up, going around the back of Sherlock to get a better angle. First he tested with his hands to find the knots and then he worked through the ends with the brush, and applied the conditioner where it was necessary until Sherlock's hair was free of knots and slicked back as though going for a look from the musical grease.

When he was done Sherlock complained about the stickiness to which John just pushed him towards the bathroom and shut the door.

When Sherlock came out he appeared again he was in a much better mood but still slightly sulky with his curls dripping water droplets down his face.

John took the towel from around his shoulders and ruffled his hair dry, removing most of the dampness but leaving it so that the curls stood out at wild angles and made him look like a mad scientist. Which in some ways he guessed he was.

"Better?" John asked with a satisfied smile. Sherlock nodded as though annoyed to admit it.

"Do I get a thanks?" He teased, hands on hips.

Sherlock looked up, his eyes confused before lighting up, he approached John quickly, grabbed his face on large hands and kissed him quickly. "Thankyou John" he said quietly before running off for his phone exclaiming there had been a murder.

John stood motionless and very confused.