Sherlly POV
Mind palace Note
Date: 21/09/2013
John Watson #368
I fear there is something wrong with John, at first I believed the symptoms he has been demonstrating were side effects of my experiment into sexuality and how John (a presumably heterosexual individual) would react to homosexual advances.
John's symptoms include:
Reddening of the face
Raised temperature
Isolation
Intense clattering when making tea
At first I thought these were the symptoms of 'love' but after checking, I found that his pulse remained steady and his pupils did not dilate.
After my correcting his spelling, approximately 15 minutes ago, he curled into himself, away from me. Mycroft has told me that when people suffer from attraction then they are subconsciously drawn towards the object of their affection and so contact between the two is increased. John did not display this behaviour in this instance; his reaction was in fact quite the opposite. Is this because of a lack of attraction or is it due to him not wanting to acknowledge the possibility of being attracted to a male, or does he behave like this to conceal his attraction from me?
I have come to the decision to confront John about his unusual behaviour.
John POV
His hazel whiskey eyes draw me in as he stands above me, lips forming words that I don't process, words that don't matter. I can feel myself lift up the laptop and place it beside me as I stand, head level with his chest, tilted up, hands moving slowly over his suit jacket, up his lapels and into his hair, strong arms pulling his lips slowly, torturously slowly, towards my own. Before they met, three beautiful words slip out of my mouth.
" For science, Sherlock," and with that I crashed my lips to his. Body melding into his own, angry and gentle all at once. Claiming all that he is for me, claiming him so that I can feel. At first he does not move, body tensing at the contact, but he doesn't move away either and I wonder if it is because of me or because of science, either way, I continue. If this is the first time, I want to make it as good as I can and if it is the last then I want to savour it. Every speck of true feeling that he has brought out in me is poured back to him and when my tongue grazes over his bottom lip he finally responds, moaning slightly as he opens up, tongue jousting back with a ferocity that I had only seen before when he was angry, a ferocity that I revelled in because I knew he wasn't fighting me: he was finally feeling and it wasn't just because of me, it was for me.
