It Seemed Logical

Chapter 4

For a moment, none of them spoke.
"I have what for who?" Muttered John, more to himself than to anyone in particular.

"Whom, John, please beware of your grammar. And I do believe you heard me alright when I said it."

"You don't understand feelings, Sherlock, how could-"

"Your pulse, John. It gives you away, rising rapidly when I happen to be near. Your pupils betray you as well: if you looked at yourself this very moment upon a mirror you would realise they are wider than usual under this light intensity."

Baffled, John frowned slightly, trying to make sense of all that Sherlock had said. Did he really have feelings for his flatmate? They were good friends, that much was clear, but he had just assumed all along that their relationship was merely different to his past ones, and they were simply best friends, overly-analised by the press. Their shared experiences were unique, and their bond deepened with each case, chase and capture, but never in all his life would John venture to say he had feelings for Sherlock.

"You seem unconvinced." The detective interrupted his friend's thoughts. "Now I most definitely don't have a choice, I must use all the assets at my disposal." He said that last bit as if he was disgusted to do so, yet he believed it was the only way to reach a satisfactory outcome to this whole ordeal.

Without giving John time to react, he reached down, grabbed his neck with his free hand (he hadn't let go of John's on purpose), and pulled him in for a hard kiss on the mouth. His original intentions had been to back away quickly and study John's reaction to prove his theory, but as he was actually carrying out his 'experiment' he couldn't bring himself to pull away just yet. His mind went silent for a while, something that had never happened to him before, as it was always racing, sorting and analysing everything it encountered. He found he liked that silence, and noted mentally to ask John to do this again if he was ever stuck in a particularly hard case that he just couldn't crack.

Being more engrossed that when he was in his mind palace, Sherlock failed to notice that John had subconsciously reached up and laid a hand on his hair, ruffling it slightly. He hadn't even realised that both had taken small steps forward to be closer together, although John's unremoved coat barely grazed Sherlock's blue robe.

In the end, it took twenty-three seconds of the detective's phone ringing loudly upon the kitchen table to make Sherlock realise even where he was. When he finally did, however, his eyes flew wide open and he pulled away in a flash, aware of his position and what he had been doing.

They both dropped the hands that were at each other's heads rapidly, John flushing a deep crimson as he did so. Forgetting that he was still holding John's right hand with his left, Sherlock almost ran to the kitchen to grab his phone, pulling the doctor behind him. He managed to pick up before the caller had given up, answering with a sure "Sherlock Holmes" that would make anyone doubt he had just snogged the sense out of his straight flatmate. During the whole call, John realised that Sherlock hadn't moved his gaze from their intertwined hands, yet he hadn't attempted to remove his.

"It was the librarian, I'll explain later." The detective ended the call with just that sentence, hoping Lestrade could understand simple instructions. He left the phone back on the table and finally stopped staring at their hands, moving up his eyes to look at John's.
Yes, yes, pupils still dilated, even under the brighter kitchen light, thought Sherlock. What most amused him, on the other hand, was not the state of the doctor's pupils, but that of his own, as he had had a chance to glance at them in his reflection upon his phone's screen when he had turned it off. Sherlock felt his own elevated pulse, and he smirked mischievously. John coughed once again, but it ended up being more of a snort when he saw his flatmate's strange grin.

"The reliability of any experiment should be thoroughly questioned unless it has an appropriate number of readings, to ensure that anomalous results do not affect the final conclusion-"

"Sherlock Holmes, are you asking permission to kiss me again?"

"No! I am merely stating the facts about scientific research-"

"Sherlock..."

"Fine, yes. Yes I am. John Watson, may I kiss you again?"

The doctor had to fight hard to not just lose it then and there, for he would probably just end up rolling on the floor with laughter, never in his life expecting to hear those words come out of Sherlock's mouth (which he had just kissed, again something he would never have thought could happen).

John made good use of the power he had over Sherlock at that moment, knowing he probably would never have him in that position again.

"And why is that, hm?"

The detective quickly realised his friend's strategy, but he was too far down the road to turn back at that moment.

"It was a, um, enjoyable experience that I would not mind doing again. It is evident you feel the same way, as you didn't run out, curse or attempted to punch me in any area of my body, for which I am grateful."

"Sherlock, I still don't believe I feel anything for yo-"

Sherlock silenced him with their second kiss.

Enjoying the blissful silence that came with kissing his doctor, the detective completely lost track of time, which was saying something, considering who he was.

At this point, John simply stopped caring about whether he had feelings for Sherlock or not, what Mrs Hudson (and the whole of England, for that matter) would say if she saw them, and, above all, he stopped caring about prejudice, simply acknowledging that he was enjoying a kiss with another man - with bloody Sherlock Holmes, as a matter of fact, thought John.