The Kissing Analysis

3

John froze, eyes widening.

His mind began to process in slow motion, as Sherlock sat there looking at his frozen back in expectation.

Sherlock.

Loves.

Me.

John swallowed, twitching a little, before he took a deep breath, mind seeming to pull back into reality. Once he collected himself, he turned around on his heel.

"Shut up, Sherlock, just shut up. No, I will not participate in your stupid... stupid, kissing thing-or whatever the hell this is! Get someone else, bloody anyone in fact, you know I could care less, but no. Not me."

Sherlock stared at him, and confusion flickered across his face.

"But.. but why-and you said not to! It wont have the same effect, and I can't do it on anyone else-" "Sherlock." "Alright, alright!"

John glared knives in his direction as the detective stood there, looking at his hands.

"Sorry for asking." he mumbled.

There was a long silence as John stood there and stared, before straightening up and taking a breath.

"Good. Good," He sniffed harshly, clearing his throat. "Yeah, okay.. em... I'm gonna go have a shower." With that said, the blogger swiftly brushed past Sherlock, who stood there.

The detective turned and his eyes followed John as he pressed passed.

"John."

John froze in place, before standing there.

There was another silence, before John spoke.

"I'll think about it," And with that, he stormed off, feeling his face heat at the reality of it all.

And Sherlock smiled at his back.

I knew you would.

-

Another day passed, and Sherlock decided to spend his day researching and observing. What better way to collect data than to witness pairs of people kissing? So, the detective made plans to find a club and spend his evening there.

As Sherlock finished his notes on the different types of kissing-some very intriguing-he left 221B, and John let him go as he finished his blog that he had meant to upload yesterday, if he hadn't been so rudely... distracted.

Bloody Holmes.

***

Sherlock entered the club, which was loud with flashing lights and drunk bodies in the center. He pushed past some people and made his way to the bar to ask for a drink-something foreign or whatever- and turned around to look at the people surrounding him.

He blinked, eyes traveling, looking for a possible couple, before he was interrupted by the tender.

"Drink mate," The gruff man said, and Sherlock turned around to absently grab the drink, and take a swig.

He flinched, and then downed it, turning around to look over to the bar tender.

"Em.. could I ask you what drink I've received?" The detective asked, and the man grinned.

"Something strong mate. Trust me, it works," The man laughed, before Sherlock blinked at him, then something dawned on him.

It's going to be a long night.