A cold gust of wind accompanied John's sigh as he set down three full plastic bags.
"I'm back from the grocer's," John said, hanging up his coat. "Not that you noticed I had gone," he muttered under his breath. Walking into the kitchen, he heard Sherlock's assertion,
"I noticed!"
John sighed again as he started to put away the groceries.
"What are you doing at the computer? You haven't got a case."
"Who says I haven't got a case?" Sherlock demanded from the other room.
"I do," said John. Sherlock humfed, then fell silent. "So?" asked John again. "What are you doing?" When there was no reply, he called, "Sherlock?"
"John!" yelled Sherlock, his voice laced with a realization. "Come here!" Grapes in hand, John sped into the room.
"What is it?"
"You understand people, yes?"
"Yea-"
"Of course you do." Sherlock looked into John's eyes. "So, what does it mean when someone's heart has a reaction to another person?"
"Well…" replied John, trying to figure out what this was about. "If the person was startled, or afr-"
"Besides that!"
With a sinking feeling in his stomach, John realized what was going on.
"That would generally indicate…being in love."
"Oh." Sherlock looked down, embarrassed. "And…what does… someone do about this?"
Why would he feel like this, like his fingernails were being pulled? Sherlock was perfectly allowed to be in with love whoever he likes. It's not as though he, John, had any ideas about anything. John's hands unconsciously started to throttle the grapes.
"You…would...generally…-"
"I never said it was me!" retorted Sherlock.
"Of course not," said John " Someone would…tell the other person of their feelings, and then, if the feelings were mutual, someone would perhaps go on a date, and eventually, kiss, and…" An image of Sherlock kissing some faceless girl popped into John's mind, and he suddenly felt sick.
"So," said Sherlock, his deducing face on, "would a kiss be a good determiner of possible continuation of a realationship?"
"I…suppose…hypothetically…" Sherlock stood up. "Are you going now?" asked John desolately. Sherlock didn't answer, but walked to John and took hold of his shoulders.
"Sherlock? What are you doing?"
"I'm going to kiss you, John."
"You're WHA-" John was interrupted by Sherlock's lips against his. The grapes fell to the ground.