"Jimmy Jimmy Jimmy, hey, knock it off," Sherlock slurred.

Jim exhaled furiously.

"Every damn time we go out and drink, you get into a brawl that I have to bail you out of." Jim shoved him into the shower and undressed him. Sherlock chuckled stupidly. "Shut up, you still want meeeeee..."

The shower shot on, blasting cold water onto Sherlock's bare body. He jumped and yelped, allowing Jim to give a small, discreet chuckle. He cleared his throat. "Can't you just for once be normal and mature? Sit," and Sherlock sat as was commanded. Jim squirt shampoo into his hands and began to scrub away the smell of alcohol that was previously dumped all over him.

And he always had to pick fights with the hot and meaty ones.

Sherlock closed his eyes, enjoying the angry massage.

"Rinse," Jim commanded, and Sherlock put his head under the now warm water.

Jim then proceeded to scrub Sherlock's back, ridding him of the stench. Sherlock hummed aimlessly.

"I like you, Jim."

"Hmm."

"Really, I do. I like you."

"Uh huh."

Sherlock turned his head. His eyes scanned Jim like he was a peasant in the eyes of a nobleman, but without scorn. He turned around and didn't say another word.