The last few notes of the song faded into silence and Sherlock, his dance now finished, turned the stereo off before dropping onto a nearby stool. John wasn’t sure he had blinked in the last few minutes and was certain that should someone ask him to move from his spot by the door he couldn’t oblige even if he wanted to. The only movement he felt even slightly capable of was collapsing into a pile on the floor as he watched Sherlock drink heartily from his water bottle and then pour an indecent amount over his face, letting the sure to be refreshingly cool liquid trickle down his long stretch of neck and soak his thin (too thin not thin enough) t-shirt.