A/N: I am not aware of the weather patterns in England, but since I am currently snowed in just south of Buffalo, NY in this wonderfully terrifying snowpocalypse, as they're calling it, I was inspired to write this. Still perhaps a little choppy. Again, I am just getting back into writing. Be kind and enjoy. :)
John watched Sherlock intently. He had been perched in front of the window for the last two hours just staring as the snow fell outside at an alarming rate. John had already accepted their fate of being "snowed in." The news reports said businesses were closed, travel was dangerous, and people all over the city were literally trapped in their homes. The last report indicated that the accumulated snow fall was already at 48" with more to come.
John had tried to settle in and read a book, but the constant 'ughs' and loud sighing from his detective friend were becoming distracting. "Sherlock come away from the window. We're stuck in this bloody flat today you'll just have to accept that."
Sherlock turned to look at John for one fleeting second before turning back to the window. He stood with one hand on his hip, the other rested on the window frame. "John, I'm bored. I need this snow to stop so that I can go do something, anything! Think of the murderers running rampant while Scotland Yard busies themselves with roadblocks and whatnot."
"Sherlock I don't think anyone is out there running rampant. Most people are probably inside trying to stay warm and entertaining themselves; which is what you need to do. Now come away from the window, staring at it won't make it stop." John said, eyes returning to the book which he had now lost interest in.
"What do you suppose I do then John?" Sherlock said with a bite of sarcasm.
"I dunno. Read a book, watch the telly, play your violin. You have hobbies." John replied.
"Hobbies, yes. I know!" Sherlock said jumping up with some excitement. "I'll work on an experiment. Now, what to do?" He sat down in his leather chair across from John, his fingers steepled in front of his face, eyes closed in thought. He sat this way for such a long time John thought the detective had fallen asleep.
Sherlock got up then and walked into the kitchen examining several beakers and bottles on the table. He was pushing things aside, throwing pieces of paper all the while saying "No, not this…no…no…no definitely not that."
Several hours had passed; the snow still coming down, the building across the way barely visible from the window of their flat. John had forgotten all about the book he was reading. During the time he had watched a movie, finished the last of the dishes in the sink, eaten lunch, and had a nap. He had not heard very much of anything out of Sherlock for quite some time. John assumed that perhaps he too had decided to take a nap to pass some time as he had retreated to his bedroom about an hour ago.
John got up from the sofa he had been sleeping on and stretched his arms. There was a distinct 'pop' in his left shoulder and he let out a sigh of relief. He made his way into the kitchen just as Sherlock was coming down the hall. "Oh good you're up. I've just figured out the best way to execute my experiment, I'd like to show you. Make us some tea won't you, I'm a bit cold."
John watched Sherlock make his way to the sofa and sit down, hands folded and legs crossed. "So what is it then? Your experiment, what are you working on?"
"It'd be better if I showed you first John. It's hard to explain and I'm not sure you'll entirely understand."
John felt a bit annoyed by that last statement. As he readied the tea kettle on the stove he replied "I'm not that daft you know, Sherlock."
Soon enough the tea was ready. John fixed them both a cup and went to sit next to Sherlock on the sofa. John enjoyed holding the cup of hot liquid in his hands. He blew a little on the tea before taking slow sips. He could feel it warming his entire body from the inside out. He looked over at Sherlock who was staring at him over his own cup.
The stare was intense. He felt like Sherlock could see right through him; his flatmate's blue-green eyes staring right into his very soul. It made John a little uneasy. Sherlock put his cup down on the table, never taking his eyes off of John. "John I have decided that I want to experiment with kissing." Sherlock said, very matter-of-fact.
"Oh?" John said, taking another sip of tea.
"I thought you might be a suitable subject for this experiment John. I am fairly comfortable in your presence and as I don't have any other viable subjects available, aside from Mrs. Hudson I suppose, I am asking if you will participate?"
"Oh!" John almost choked on his tea. Coughing, he put the cup onto the table in front of them and looked back at Sherlock. "Sherlock I am…um…flattered. I really am, but surely you know I'm not gay." John said, thinking to himself how many times does one have to declare this?
"John I am simply asking to engage you as a subject in an experiment. I am not questioning your sexual orientation, disputed as that is." Said Sherlock, eyes still not wavering from John.
John didn't know what to do or to say really. He sat for a moment contemplating what this really meant. Is it really an experiment? What does Sherlock hope to gain from this? What if I like it? Am I bloody crazy?
Before John could reply Sherlock placed a hand on John's jaw and pulled him in for a kiss. Their lips met. John could feel Sherlock's hand shaking a little as it cupped his face, could feel inexperienced lips attempting to move against his. Oh my God, Sherlock Holmes is nervous. John thought to himself. Before John could react to what was happening Sherlock pulled away looking disappointed.
"I'll go log those results then." Sherlock went to get off the sofa when John grabbed his wrist and gently pulled him back down.
"Sherlock, you caught me off guard. That's not a very good trial for your experiment, let's try again." John didn't really know what he was doing. He just knew that he never wanted to see that look of utter disappointment on Sherlock's face ever again, not if he had been the cause of it.
"Are you sure John?"
"No Sherlock, honestly I'm not sure about anything right now. That being said, if you're logging those results as a kiss from me, you're going to need an actual John Watson kiss." This time John took his hand and cupped Sherlock's face bringing him closer. Slowly their lips met. John parted Sherlock's warm lips with his tongue and began to explore the detective's mouth. Sherlock eagerly kissed back, a moan escaping him as their tongues met for the first time.
John found himself enjoying this kiss between friends. He especially loved the sounds Sherlock was making. He dragged his teeth over Sherlock's plump lower lip, nipping lightly. He was determined to pull out all of his tricks to keep the detective moaning.
Sherlock was the first to pull away. He was breathing heavily and his face was flushed. John was thoroughly satisfied with the way his friend looked at the moment. He looked vulnerable and John felt like he had the upper hand, which is something he didn't often feel in the presence of Sherlock Holmes.
"John, I…I…I think those results were much more conclusive than the first trial. I shall make a note of the variances." Sherlock said still flushed.
"Is that it? The experiment is over?" John said, a smile playing on his lips. "I thought an experiment involved multiple trials? You can't expect to have any findings from just two."
"So you think we need more then?" asked Sherlock.
"I think that would be best." John said. Then, with a tone of uncertainty, he added "Unless, of course, you feel you have everything you need."
Sherlock looked back at John. He had quite enjoyed their second kiss and it appeared as if his doctor friend had too. "John I'd like to kiss your neck." Sherlock said. John nodded and Sherlock dove in peppering soft kisses on the supple skin of John's neck. He experimented with his tongue and his teeth, biting and sucking, taking note of John's reactions.
The two experimented with snogging the rest of the day. John showed Sherlock all of the various ways and places to kiss, while Sherlock mentally took notes and enjoyed every time John's lips met any place on his skin.
They settled in on the sofa together with another cup of tea late that night. The snow was still falling outside and the news report stated that there was another storm front coming in from the North.
Sherlock turned toward John and placed a feather light kiss on his temple. "I rather like being snowed in." He stated before bringing John in for another kiss.