A/N: To be perfectly honest, I can't really see Sherlock as a sexual being. I think he might occasionally have sex, but I can't actually picture it. I can however, picture the morning after.
Disclaimer: I wish I owned Sherlock, but I don't
He wakes up first. Molly's lying with her head on his chest, directly over his heart. She looks happy, peaceful, for the first time since the fall. He strokes her hair for hours, or maybe minutes - he can't tell, until she wakes up. She looks at him and smiles.
"Hello," because she's still the awkward morgue assistant.
He drops his hand from her head the moment she wakes up. They sit in silence for a few minutes. Molly is nervous. Sherlock is pensive. He speaks first:
"That was…Last night…"
It takes several tries before he gets the words out.
"It was a learning experience."
She sits up abruptly, keeping the sheets above her chest.
"Excuse me?"
"Last night, when we…I learned some things."
She's furious now. Heartbroken and embarrassed, she slides out of bed.
"Are you okay?" he asks her. She laughs. She knows she might be overreacting, but he's so insensitive.
"I get it. Sherlock Holmes needed to try something new so he got into bed with the first bimbo daft enough to want to shag him."
And then she's in the bathroom, the door locked behind her.
He puts on his boxers and calls through the door:
"Let's get a few things straight, Molly Hooper. You are not the only woman who's ever wanted to shag me. You are simply the first I've ever wanted back. You should be flattered."
He pauses. When he speaks again, his voice is much softer - more caring.
"And you're not daft and you are most certainly not a bimbo. Please, just come back to bed, Molly. Please."
He hears a choked noise through the door - Molly forcing herself not to cry. There's a click and the door opens a bit. Molly's standing there, pinked-cheeked, in a blue bathrobe. Sherlock takes her hand a leads her back to bed. He pulls her back onto his chest, the way she was all morning, serene in sleep.
"This is what I meant, Molly Hooper. There's one thing I don't know much about. One. thing. only." He pauses the emphasize that point. "I don't understand sex and intimacy more than a textbook explains or what I've deduced from some reality shows on the telly."
She doesn't respond, so he wraps his arms tighter around her.
"All they talk about is the physical pleasure - stuff you could get from anyone. But this, this lying here, with you. That's what mattered to me. Being with you. Being loved by you. That's what I learned."
He tilts her chin up and kisses her softly.
"Good morning, Molly Hooper."