John had to admit to himself that he had missed Sherlock's kisses. They had the same intensity that he showed in every aspect of his life. Yet they were surprisingly considerate and delicate at the same time. They just stood in the middle of the room for a moment, only their lips touching, unmoving and the time did not seem to matter anymore. Then John felt Sherlock's right hand rising and with a gentle touch lying down over his beating heart. Their lips were still touching and now Sherlock started moving his lips against John's. Soon he joined and their mouths danced in unison to music that only they could hear.
"Your heart is beating much faster than a few seconds before", Sherlock whispered against John's lips. John smiled. "Why do you think that happened?"
"The human heart should beat between 40 and 100 beats per minute. The average fit male heart beats around 52 times per minute. Of course this is in a resting state and right now you are not resting." Sherlock's voice trailed off.
John looked at him and raised an eyebrow in a very Sherlock manner. "What are you trying to tell me?" Sherlock shook his head. "Honestly, I don't know anymore." He kissed John again.
John's hands wandered into Sherlock's mob of curls as if they had a mind of their own. His fingers grabbed a few strands and he could feel the silky touch on his skin.
Despite his height advantage Sherlock could still touch John's hips and pulled him closer to his own body. "Did you know" he said in the kiss "that the average man can run comfortably at a speed of 5 to 6 miles an hour depending on their fitness. But you have always kept up with me even before you started you know what."
"Hmm, so?" John said while still preferring to go back to kissing without talking.
"John, I sprint most of the times at a much faster pace. You are so much above average." Sherlock looked at him astonished as if that had been an obvious fact. "Did you also know that the average man can lift his own weight?" John shook his head and tried to get Sherlock back to the original task of snogging.
"I think you can do that as well, or maybe you can lift even more." John was starting to get worried where this was leading. Sherlock had exactly the same look in his face that he showed just before the start of an experiment. He cocked his head and showed a very determined look on his face. Since John was not in the mood for games but for something entirely different he grabbed Sherlock under his buttocks just below the thighs and lifted him up one or two inches above the floor. He held him in the air for a few seconds while Sherlock grabbed his hips with more force and then put him down with care.
" I assume you and I have about the same weight? Despite you being so tall you are still ridiculously skinny." He commented on his actions drily. Sherlock was silent for a few moments, which was a rarely occurring event that John always cherished for a few seconds before breaking out into panic that something was wrong with Sherlock. But it only took the latter a few moments to gain his sense for reality back. Without a warning he crushed his lips fiercely against John's. Gone was the hunger for experimentation at least in any way that did not involve them both.
By applying a small amount of pressure against Sherlock's front John managed to guide them in the direction of the bedroom they shared. Sherlock walked backwards without a stumble although his lips were still connected to John's. Sometimes John really envied the man's gracefulness.
He pushed him down onto the bed and climbed on top of him while his hands started roaming the other body. Soon they had found the first button to open and kept going until the top half of Sherlock's clothes was nearly removed. Suddenly the detective moved and turned them. He moved back to sit on his heels and started tugging at John's jumper. John who always understood what Sherlock wanted took of the unwanted piece of clothing.
"Did you know," Sherlock started again, while looking down at his hands that were plastered out on John's stomach "that the average male middle is about 3,1 foot and the average man your age does not have visible muscle tissue on his stomach?" He followed with his finger a very fine line of muscles forming on John's belly. "But I am not sure I actually like visible muscle lines." He looked thoughtful.
"Well," John said, now much calmer "I like it. Not too much and not too few lines, but you know what I also like in my average man?" Sherlock looked at him curiously.
"I like light skin that stretches tightly over somebody's body. I like what sometimes looks like translucent, I like dark unruly curls, I like flustered just recently kissed lips but most of all at this particular moment like to go on with what we were just doing." He looked up at Sherlock's face with what he hoped was the best "let's have sex now and talk later" look that he could conjure. Sherlock cocked his head and frowned and then, as if led out of a trance, nodded. John pulled him down flush against his own skin and kissed him again. Within few minutes they had shed the rest of their clothes and enjoyed each other's naked company.
Sweat was still tripling down John's back, who had turned the tables after some point and had taken up the demanding part, when they put their exhausted bodies next to each other on the bed. Knowing Sherlock and himself John was sure it would take only a few minutes until they were falling asleep. He closed his eyes but while drifting away he still heard Sherlock whisper in his ear. "Did you know that the average relationship lasts about 2,1 years?" And the last thing he remembers saying before falling asleep was: "It is good not to be average."