The Kissing Analysis

7

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John breathed, anxiety starting to burst throughout his body as Sherlock walked by.

"Emm.. so.. how-how is this supposed to work?" He asked, toungue wetting his lips as he spoke.

Sherlock smirked and winked as he turned to face the kitchen.

"Well, I suppose I'd have to look at it from different view points. See what I like, see what I don't like. If it really feels like I'm shooting a gun, if my mind goes silent-things like that." He spoke swiftly as he walked into the kitchen.

"I'll have to run tests, obviously. Some, several times."

Watson gulped.

"But, if you cooperate, this experiment wont last too long." Sherlock reassured as he poured the tea in the cups, and picked up the tray.

"So, when do we start?" John asked as Holmes placed the tray on Johns right, while taking his own cup, and leaving the other for John.

"Oh, I don't know," Sherlock spoke as he turned and sat down, leg crossing over the other as he brought the cup to his mouth.

"Some time." He hummed into his drink.

John blinked at him, mouth drying as he watched Sherlock sip his tea.

"I have my plans John, no need to worry." He said as he pulled the tea away.

-

The following morning was tiring. John hadn't gotten any sleep, and he had work in 3 hours.

He scratched his head as he made his way into the kitchen, pressing the button on the coffee maker, when suddenly he was bombarded by a certain consulting detective.

He felt strong hands grip his shoulders, and before he could even react he was shoved against the fridge.

John blinked, wide eyed as his mind caught up with him. He watched as his flatmate stared down at him.

"Sh-Sherlock?!" He squeaked, suddenly wide awake, and completely aware of the close proximity of his friend.

Before he could think of another thing, Sherlock pressed his lips swiftly to John's. The blogger froze in place, going stock still as his mind began to swim, electric shocks of warmth and adrenaline suddenly rocketing through his whole body, fireworks going off in his brain, and alarms screaming in his ears, and bloody hell

Sherlock bloody Holmes was kissing him.

He was just beginning to relax into the sensation, closing his eyes and letting Sherlock press his lips against his own, when suddenly it was over.

A light beeping sound rang in the kitchen, and Sherlock pulled away abruptly, wide eyed.

John stared up at him, lips parted, and he was about to say something, when Holmes ran back to his room.

-

Sherlock panted as he leaned against the door of his room, shaking.

He felt as if he could puke.

It worked. It fucking worked, fuck!

Sherlock shakily walked over and grabbed the cup of water and drank it all at once, trying to calm his nerves, which were zooming like rockets beneath his skin.

They were right

It really did feel like guns ringing in your ears.

But also quiet, and peaceful.

But also explosions, and adrenaline, and it was all too much.

Sherlock grabbed the notepad, and jotted down notes.

He had only kissed him, closed mouth-dominately-for 10 seconds.

There were still so many things to try, and his blogger was perfect for it.