[Sherlock has heard people describe kisses as feeling like fireworks. Something bright. Colorful. Exciting. Awe-inspiring, maybe. Here, though, with this kiss, shared with his best friend, Sherlock thinks it feels mostly like warm skin, a touch of nausea, and a profound urge to continue. He doesn't know if that makes him defective or just practical. He hopes it's the latter. He can't afford to keep screwing up where John is concerned.
More importantly: where should he put his hands? On John's face? His waist? His shoulders? He's overthinking everything about a simple kiss, but he really can't stop himself. (Wouldn't be Sherlock Holmes if he weren't overthinking the details.) Regardless, he likes the way John clutches at his coat to keep him as close as possible. He also likes the way John wants more from him--insists on getting more, like the commander he can be. Sherlock is all too willing to give John whatever he wants; no questions asked. He'd even give his life to John a second time, a third time, if it were required.
For the sake of practicality, Sherlock settles his wrists on John's shoulders like a familiar lover. It gives him more stability (knees feel a bit weak) (John's fault) as well as free reign to stoke the nape of John's neck. He marvels at how soft John's skin feels in this context. Information to file away for later...
What about Mary? some part of him wants to ask. He doesn't ask that. Even when they next part to breathe (but not too far away), he doesn't ask about John's lovely bride-to-be. Instead, he asks softly,]
Come home with me?
[It has all the meaning John might imagine it having.]
no subject
More importantly: where should he put his hands? On John's face? His waist? His shoulders? He's overthinking everything about a simple kiss, but he really can't stop himself. (Wouldn't be Sherlock Holmes if he weren't overthinking the details.) Regardless, he likes the way John clutches at his coat to keep him as close as possible. He also likes the way John wants more from him--insists on getting more, like the commander he can be. Sherlock is all too willing to give John whatever he wants; no questions asked. He'd even give his life to John a second time, a third time, if it were required.
For the sake of practicality, Sherlock settles his wrists on John's shoulders like a familiar lover. It gives him more stability (knees feel a bit weak) (John's fault) as well as free reign to stoke the nape of John's neck. He marvels at how soft John's skin feels in this context. Information to file away for later...
What about Mary? some part of him wants to ask. He doesn't ask that. Even when they next part to breathe (but not too far away), he doesn't ask about John's lovely bride-to-be. Instead, he asks softly,]
Come home with me?
[It has all the meaning John might imagine it having.]