This chapter is really short, so I'll do two tonight. Enjoy!
2. The dating time frame
John was feeling a bit worried, as if walking on eggshells lately. Sherlock seemed a little withdrawn, upset, even. Not being his usual self for most part. But whenever he asked, the answer was always the same, 'I'm fine, John.'
On the other hand, dating Marisa had been going well, and he had passed the 6 week mark. Sherlock had not done anything too serious that sabotaged his dates lately, which was unusual (part of the 'not being himself' that John noticed). Plus the last month's crop of cases had been quick ones, not the kind that dragged on for several days or weeks, which allowed for decent dating in between. She was from Brazil, nice, pretty, and they got along well, which was a huge plus in his book. He really liked her, she was smart and had an easy going personality, always upbeat and happy. Maybe this could be the long term relationship that he had been craving for.
Yet... Something was off. He couldn't put his finger on what that could be.
...
One morning, John was getting ready to leave for work and Sherlock had been working on his microscope in the kitchen. John saw a bruised cut on Sherlock's cheekbone and did a double take. 'Sherlock, when did you get tha-' he was asking as he stepped back quickly to take a closer look, when Sherlock heard him and turned to answer.
Their lips and noses collided briefly, in the confusion of Sherlock's change of direction. It was only a second, where two sets of lips slid past each other, moving in opposite directions. That took both of them by surprise. They immediately pulled apart, avoiding each other's eyes, apologising simultaneously.
'I was interrogating a suspect yesterday while you were at work and he wasn't cooperative,' Sherlock answered a little too quickly.
'You went off on your own? Why didn't you wait for me to go with you?'
'Couldn't be helped. He was about to leave town.'
'Any other injuries?'
'No, just this punch.'
'Did you loose consciousness?'
'I'm fine, John,' he cleared his throat, then lowered his voice. 'No need to fret. You'll be late for work.'
'Well, yes, you're right. I should get going.' He hesitated, but decided it was best to go.
...
If it wasn't for years of training himself on controlling his breathing when in danger, he would've been panting at the 'kiss'. Strangely, this applied here, 'control when in danger'. Sherlock had felt a sudden heat, and he fervently hoped he hadn't blushed. John had looked away, so he may not have noticed. Mercifully, John had brushed it aside, as if it hadn't happened. John was embarrassed, but knowing it had been an accident, quickly dismissed it, asking about his well being instead.
John the doctor, always.
But, truth be told, he had enjoyed the feeling of John's lips on his. That split second was treasured and stored away in his mind, to be revisited and relished from now on. Relished? It felt good. His lips were soft, warm and wet, tasting of toothpaste... very sensual. Now he had a glimpse of what it would feel like if John ever... No, he sighed. That's all I'll ever have.
...
John had been startled by the 'almost kiss'. That kind of accidental non-kiss had happened to him before, but usually with women. This time, he had felt a jolt, as if an electric current had run through his entire body. There was warmth stirring inside him now that he had put some respectful distance (several blocks and a couple of tube stations) between both of them. Sherlock's lips were warm, velvety, and felt fuller than they looked. It wasn't unpleasant. Nice, even. But nothing more. Just an accident. Sherlock was as embarrassed as he was, which was fine. His embarrassment will pass and be forgotten before the end of the day. Or sooner. Only I'll remember it.
It was pointless to deny it. He had enjoyed it.