Kinda pointless fluff. John and Sherlock's first kiss.
Sherlock had gone and surprised him again. Just when John thought he could no longer be awestruck by the consulting detective, Sherlock had gone and figured out the murderer simply by analyzing the room where the murder had taken place for give minutes. Now they were back at the flat, and John was trying to figure out ANYTHING that Sherlock wasn't amazing at.
"Essay writing. For school. I doubt you were much good at that."
Sherlock glanced up from whatever h was examining under the microscope and raised an eyebrow. "Nearly perfect scores on all my essays."
If John didn't know better, he would've thought Sherlock was purposely trying to frustrate him. "What about riding a bicycle?"
"Haven't done it in years, but I wasn't terrible at it." This time, Sherlock didn't even look up.
Sighing, John paced. "There's got to be something you can't do. No human can be good at everything."
Sherlock had enough common sense to keep his mouth shut, but John could see his smirk. The taller man went back to his microscope, and John suddenly got it. "You must be an awful kisser."
"Why?"
"You probably spent all your teenage years behind a microscope, like you are now. Probably didn't have time for girls." John was gleeful with his discovery.
Sherlock pushed back from the table and met John's eyes, still smirking. "I am a wonderful kisser, or so I have been told." His eyes seemed to darken, and John swallowed nervously. Sherlock stood up and walked over to John. He leaned in and whispered very softly, "anyway, who said it was girls I was after?"
Sherlock's breath was warm against John's ear. The doctor could hear his heart racing. "What are you saying?"
The chuckle that came from the detectives throat was intoxicating. "That I could prove to you that I am a good kisser."
Sherlock pulled back enough to look John in the eye, that smirk still plastered to his face. He cupped John's chin and leaned in to press his lips to John's.
Chills ran through John's body as his hands found sherlock's arms and he kissed him back. A couple seconds later, Sherlock moved his other hand to rest on the back of John' head and parted his lips slightly, deepening the kiss.
John gave himself over to the sensations of Sherlock's lips against his, a perfect pressure and warmth. Too soon,Sherlock pulled back, hand still on the back of John'a head. That hand slid down to rest on the back of his neck, thumb stroking his hairline. "So?" Sherlock asked.
Breathlessly, John muttered, "Maybe you are good at everything."
Sherlock laughed again, a low rumble. "Is that a bad thing?"
"No, but it does make me and the rest of the human race feel inferior."
"Well, you are a rather nice kisser yourself."
John laughed and responded by pulling Sherlock down for another kiss.
A/N: I know in England they call it snogging but I'm Canadian American take pity on me.