Johnlock: For My Experiment

The First Kiss

The moment their lips collided Sherlock felt a rush of adrenaline and... lust? This was new.

Sherlock started soft. He kept his mouth closed and John did the same.

If one of them opened their mouth at all it would change the results. So the kiss was simply lip-only.

Sherlocks hands moved to John's hips and the doctor shuddered.

Then John's hands made their way into Sherlock's curly dark brown hair.

"BEEP BEEP BEEEEEEEEP!!" The timer went off loudly and Sherlock ended the chaste kiss abruptly.

Their faces were blushed a deep red, their pupils blown wide.

They were still only centimeters apart, and Sherlock lifted the timer in between the tiny space. He smirked.

"Good. That was part one." He quickly took John's pulse, jotted it down and turned back to him.

"We have an hour until part 2." Sherlock got up and wandered into the kitchen.

.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.

John was gay. That was it.

That kiss, just now. He wanted more. And only a gay man could want more from another man.

Sherlock drove him mad.

John sighed.

It was for real this time, when he says his whole life was a lie.

Because it was. The girls he always went out with ended up leaving because he didn't really want them enough to put in the effort to keep them.

Truly, deep down, he wanted Sherlock.

And that's who John would ever want.

John turned to face the kitchen. He glared at Sherlock's stooping figure, hair illuminated by the small rays of sunlight.

"You made me gay, you big git." John thought, annoyed.

Sherlock suddenly stood straight. "John, we... I think we're out of sugar. Go buy some."

There go John's loving thoughts. Right up and out the chimney.

"Right." The doctor said getting up and grabbing his jacket off the peg. "I'll be gone for about 30 minutes. Don't burn the flat down, please."

With that, he exited the sitting room, went down the stairs, and stepped into the cold midday.

.•*•..•*•..•*•..•*•..•*•..•*•..•*•..•*•..•*•.

Sherlock was lying face-first in the couch cushions murmuring something.

"Pardon?" John asked at the limp figure.

Sherlock shot up and glared at John. "BORED." He snapped.

He got off the couch and hopped over the coffee table, robe billowing behind him.

John watched as the consulting detective stood on his chair, tapped the ceiling, then dropped back down so he was sitting with his head tilted back on the top of the back of the chair.

"Sherlock, why did you tap the ceiling?"

"Bored, John. The ceiling needed tapping."

John just stood there then began towards his own chair.

He was stopped by a thin hand on his arm. John looked back.

"What?" He asked, a little annoyed.

"Can you bring me my timer?" Sherlock asked.

"Fine." Watson retrieved his stop-timer from the coffee table and tossed it to the detective.

Sherlock opened his eyes and reached down. His clipboard.

"John come here."

John walked over, a little hesitantly.

"Part two!" Sherlock said smiling and pulling his head down from the head-tossed-back position.

He clicked a button on the timer then stated, "We have two minutes. Rules are you may move your mouth but may NOT open it. Understand?"

"Yeah." John said blushing a bit. Sherlock grabbed his wrist and pulled him closer then stopped pulling John at the edge of the chair.

"Hmm. I think straddling would change the results." Sherlock announced.

He got up, pushed John back into his chair and knelt in front of him.

The same position as last time.