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The day had come to where everything platonic, such as touching, grabbing, and holding, had an affect that would drive anyone mad.

It was a fateful Tuesday outside of 221B, when the detective had seen it.

"But why?" He had asked on the way home. "Because, Sherlock," John said in exasperation for the 5th time that drive home.

"People like it..." 

"Yes! I understand that-but why!?" Sherlock retaliated. Watson sighed, turning over to look at Holmes, who actually looked genuinely perplexed

"Have you ever done it?" John asked curiously. Sherlock looked at him for a while before looking away, and out the window.

John was baffled.

"Sher-" "Shut up, never mind!" Sherlock tried to cut him off, and John broke into a grin, ready to send a massive wave of teases his way.

"You mean-" "John lay off !" "But Sh-" "Stop!" "Fine!" The two rattled off at one another. John pursed his lips to keep from giggling as Sherlock began to pout a little. A long silence followed in the cab, until John quickly spoke the sentence that would ruin the both of them.

"You mean to tell me you've never kissed someone?" 

"JOHN!"

The writer began to giggle, and Sherlock glared at him in response, turning a light pink as John put his face in his hands, and leaned over a bit. Sherlock bit his lip, fire lighting in his eyes, heart pounding, as John's head tried to wrap around the fact that his Detective could very well possibly be... a virgin.

Which made John laugh harder, and Sherlock crossed his arms, and squeezed tightly against the window, as if to sink away from the embarrassment.

After a few minutes of muffled giggles, John turned to look at him. At this sight of his friend, he instantly felt a weight lower in his stomach.

"Sorry, Sherlock- I didn't mean to-" "No, it's fine!" Sherlock blurted out, shooting an accusing glance at John.

"Not that I need to or anything. It's not that I'm," Sherlock scrunched his nose up dramatically, "normal... and really need to fit in with society. I don't need to be a perfect human, I have no reasons to be, I don't know, not a virgin," Sherlock seethed through a sour expression. Watson stared at him with wide eyes, mouth slightly gaped, until Holmes began to realize what he said. He then turned a darker color, jerking his head away, and once again, squeezing into the side of the car.

John continued to stare at him, before he looked at his hands ashamed, and sighed.

"Again, sorry Sherlock, I didn't mean to, I just-" John didn't finish the sentence, and he saw Sherlock slowly turn to look at him, curiosity written on his face.

Watson sighed, and suddenly, another question popped up in his mind.

"What about The woman?" He asked, and Sherlock scoffed. John raised an eyebrow in response.

"You can't be serious, John, just because I save a woman doesn't mean I'm in love with her," Sherlock rolled his eyes, and John stared at him with confusion.

"But what about-" "She was average. And though her intelligence was... I guess, higher than most, she was still like everyone else. Also, a sex addicted woman would not be what I'm looking for. Didn't I tell you they weren't my area?" Holmes rolled his eyes. John contemplated these words, before slowly looking away.

There was a long silence, before he popped another question.

"Molly?" He asked, and he heard Sherlock groan.

***

The day had gone by fast, and when the pair had gotten home, Sherlock dashed up the steps, leaving John walking slowly behind him, rolling his eyes at the detective. After he was half way up the stairs he heard a door close. A frown etched it's way onto his face in response.

"Fine then. Not that I want to spend time with you or anything," John muttered under his breath, and begrudgingly made his way up the rest of the steps and into the living room, where he hung up his coat, and went into the kitchen, beginning to boil some water in the kettle.

Sherlock had scrolled onto the laptop, opening a document onto his laptop, and quickly titling it "Kissing Analysis"

If Watson wasn't going to tell him what was up with this whole kissing business, then Sherlock was going to find out.

***

It had been a couple hours since the two had arrived home from the case, and John was on his laptop, typing up and proofreading the long blog entry, going back a couple times and detailing more bits, while taking a sip from his tea every now and then.

In fact, he had been so into his laptop, that he hadn't heard the door to Sherlock's room open and close quietly, only to jump at the detective -who was now in his night clothes- suddenly standing in front of him.

"Oh, hello Sherlock," Watson sent a small friendly, yet tired, smile up to his flatmate, before looking down at his laptop, and licking his lips, placing his finger tips at the keyboard and typing away.

"John," Holmes spoke, and John made a sound in his throat in recognition.

"I thought about what you said about kissing," He said, and Watson froze before looking up to meet the eyes of his flatmate, who was looking... bashful?

"I um.... John, I need help," Holmes mumbled. John raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, sure Sherlock, anything. What is it?" He asked, and Sherlock sighed.

"Well, I read a thing on the internet -don't give me that look John- and it said that a kiss sends the same amount of sparks of adrenaline as it does when a gun is shot by said person who is being kissed or giving," Sherlock spoke informatively, and John nodded, absentmindedly licking his lips, and Sherlock bit his own, before looking at the ground.

"Um... I'm doing a... couple tests," Holmes mumbled, glancing away several times. John blinked at him.

"Okay," he said slowly, and Sherlock averted his gaze to the ground.

"I need to get.. um.. someone to..." Sherlock started to flush with an embarrassment John had never seen before, before smirking a little.

"You need to get someone to kiss-" "Kiss me- um yeah." Sherlock swallowed, and Watson shrugged.

"Welp, Sherlock, you can't just go around kissing people." John sighed, looking back down at his laptop, feeling slightly.. disappointed?

"Why not?" Sherlock asked, and John licked his lips and sighed, closing his laptop after saving his blog entry, which would probably not get uploaded until tomorrow. He then stood up to go wash his cup.

"Well Sherlock, the whole point of kissing someone, is that it has to mean something. And it has to be with someone you love-" Sherlock rolled his eyes, and John just shook his head a little bit as he began to wash his cup. Sherlock leaned against the counter.

"Fine then. Molly loves me right? I'll just meet up with her tomorrow-" Sherlock was interrupted with the sudden clatter of the cup John was holding. The blogger turned to give Sherlock an incredulous look.

"What?- No Sherlock, don't-" "Not now John, I need to call Molly." Sherlock said abruptly, pulling out his phone from his pajama pocket and walking past John, heading to his own bedroom.

"Wait- Sherlock!" "Hush John! Goodnight!" He winked before closing his door, and clicking the send button on his phone.

John sighed, before clenching his jaw, and then rubbing his face.

He felt his heart ache.

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