Sherlock and Victor spent a lot of time together, mostly at Victor's insistence. Each time Victor invited Sherlock somewhere (or invited himself somewhere that Sherlock was going), Sherlock felt a twinge of annoyance as well as a small swoop in his stomach that came from a feeling that he couldn't quite place yet. It frustrated him that he didn't have enough data to pinpoint where this feeling was coming from, but as always, Sherlock was a man of science and he was determined to find out just what that annoying sensation of his stomach dropping out of his body was.

Victor was irritatingly accepting of all of Sherlock's personality flaws that his parents found endearing and everyone else found unspeakably irritating. He loved that Sherlock lacked a filter and said everything that he was thinking when he was in a chatty mood. He laughed when Sherlock said something particularly scandalous that only he could see, such as the grocer who had an affinity for cucumbers and other phallic foods. He ensured that Sherlock was out of earshot of the people he was making his deductions about because they did generally tend to be somewhat unsavory ("He's been attempting to perform autofellatio on himself. Look at the way his back is a little stooped over and he walks as if he's chafing. He got the tip in his mouth but couldn't hang on, so he began to suck a bit too roughly, which most likely left a painful bruise or some other irritation." "She's was tied up last night, but her partner likely didn't pay any attention her to pleasure and left her wanting." "Those children stole some candy from Tesco. Two of them feel guilty and are probably seriously considering going and putting the candy back – look at the way they're shifting and looking as if the world is ending every time they look at their pocket or feel the candy bar – but the third is rather pleased with herself and will be doing this again. If she isn't careful her habit will cost her whatever job she gets in the future and probably several personal relationships. Children are criminals in training, Victor. Always suspect that they've done something wrong.") and could get him in trouble from time to time.

"You have such an amazing brain," Victor said breathlessly one day after Sherlock had muttered something about Victor's boss ("attracted to his dog").

"Don't say obvious things, Victor, it gets tedious," Sherlock sighed.

"I'm sorry. I can't help it. You have an incredible brain, Sherlock. What are you going to do with it? How are you going to find something that can keep up with you?"

"I plan to work in a lab conducting obscure experiments that will aid the police who are solving violent crimes. Scotland Yard is full of idiots who don't know a corpse from a warm body." Sherlock scowled, thinking back to when he was a child and he had attempted to get the attention of the police after Carl Powers had drowned.

"Wouldn't you be of more use if you actually joined the police force?" Victor scrunched up his nose in that endearing way that he did so frequently when Sherlock had stumped him. "I mean, if you were out at crime scenes, you would be able to tell what happened in a few seconds."

"Dull, Victor, you aren't thinking," Sherlock sighed, scrubbing a hand over his eyes. "I would have to work for years just to make it onto a homicide squad, and even then I would have to listen to a Detective Inspector and obey their every order, even if they were doing the wrong thing. There's a market for what I want to do, they just don't know it yet. Once I've published a few papers, other scientists will work to disprove my results, and when they can't do that Scotland Yard and other law enforcement departments will be forced to listen to me."

Victor shook his head in disbelief. "I don't know what I did to get so lucky, but I can't wait to see you experimenting and to see your face when you're getting recognized for how brilliant you are."

Sherlock was stunned. He stopped walking, and Victor proceeded down the path for a few more steps before he realized that Sherlock wasn't there anymore.

"What is it?" Victor asked, concerned.

"You're being serious about all of this," Sherlock said, swallowing hard.

Victor's brow furrowed. "Of course I am, Sherlock. How have you not gotten that through your head yet? I'm not leaving until you tell me to."

"It just seems impossible," Sherlock said, shaking his head so his curls were bobbing all around his head.

"Listen to me," Victor sighed. "I will never fully be able to comprehend how your brain works, and that's fine. I get that you need hard proof to believe something is true. But Sherlock, and I know this is going to sound awful but I don't know how else to get this through your head, you're not exactly the most likable person in the world. Do you think that someone who wasn't your perfect match would stick around as long as I have?"

"That was unnecessarily cruel," Sherlock muttered.

"It was cruel, but it was necessary. I don't know how else to convince you that I'm being serious about this," Victor sighed. "You're wonderful, and I wish that you weren't so fucking abrasive to others because if people knew how you really are under that protective barrier you put up, the world would be so much better off. You don't need them, I know, but they need you, Sherlock Holmes, and if there is one thing I wish I could do it would be to make everyone else see how fantastic you are. You seeing color would be second, because I want you to believe me more than anything, but I would rather have you doubt me than have the rest of the world treat you like some sort of lesser person because of the way your brain works."

With that, Victor turned and kept walking, leaving Sherlock frozen in the middle of the park to think about what he had said.

Three hours later, Sherlock knocked on the door to Victor's flat. The man looked dejected when he opened the door, but when he saw Sherlock he perked up. Before Victor could say anything, Sherlock leaned forward and pressed a light kiss to Victor's lips.

As they broke apart, Victor let out a huff of a laugh and said, "That is what I was waiting for."

Sherlock smiled shyly and knew that he was most likely blushing. "That's all I'm comfortable with."

"I can wait," Victor sighed, tucking a curl behind Sherlock's ear. "Shall we step out of the hallway? I was just about to eat. You're more than welcome to some."

"Digestion slows my thought processes," Sherlock said as a refusal.

"It also keeps you alive," Victor replied. He pushed Sherlock onto his couch and walked into the kitchen where he prepared a plate for both of them. Sherlock stared at his plate of food intending not to eat it, but he looked up and Victor was watching him, also not eating and clearly waiting on Sherlock to get started before he began to eat. After a few bites, Victor said, "See. Eating a bit won't kill you."

Sherlock grunted, but continued to eat. They were silent while eating, but as soon as they were both finished, Sherlock said, "I would like to experiment more with what we were doing earlier if that's alright with you."

Victor laughed. "As if I would ever not be alright with snogging."

"No." Sherlock scrunched his nose. "Not full-on snogging. Just a bit of what we did at the door. Nothing wild, and no tongue."

"That's something I would be willing to wait for," Victor said in his irritatingly patient way. "Now come here. I can't kiss you from all the way across the couch."

Shyly, Sherlock scooted over to the other end of the furniture so he was next to Victor, but with a few inches of space left between the two of them. Victor took one of his hands, tilted his head, and leaned in. After a few seconds, Sherlock pulled back, sputtering. The swooping feeling was there, but instead of being just a little dip it felt as if his stomach was dropping out and wasn't going to stop moving towards the ground.

For his part, Victor looked concerned. "Not quite ready?"

Sherlock shook his head furiously. "No, it's this stupid sensation that I've been trying to figure out since we began to spend time together. I feel as if my stomach is dropping out, but when you kissed me I didn't think that it would pull back up like it has been after a few seconds. I don't know what it is and that infuriates me." He hopped up and began pacing around the room. Victor sat calmly.

"I know what that means, Sherlock."

Sherlock froze. "Tell me!" He hated begging, but it was getting ridiculous.

"I can't tell you, but I'll give you a hint. I started feeling that for you when we first met, and I haven't stopped feeling it ever since." Seeing the puzzled look on Sherlock's face, Victor sighed and said, "I'm attracted to you, Sherlock, and based on what you're telling me I would bet that you're attracted to me as well. Now you can either torment yourself from over there, or you can come back over here and let me kiss you until both of our stomachs drop out of our bodies."

"That's impossible," Sherlock huffed, throwing himself back down onto the couch.

"Shut up," Victor breathed onto his lips, and the next thing Sherlock knew, Victor's lips were on his and his stomach was still struggling to get out of his body, but not uncomfortably. Nothing is uncomfortable when all of the facts are available to be analyzed.