John called in to work to let them know he would not be in today. He had given a vague explanation as to why he was staying home today. This made Sherlock smirk up at the doctor as he hung up the phone.
"Are the other doctors at your office really that stupid?" Sherlock said in a low grumble through his snarky expression.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"John, anyone could see through that excuse, if a doctor can't deduce that you're lying about an illness, then they should be required to give back their license to practice."
John rolled his eyes and shifted his weight under Sherlock. "I didn't want to lie. I tried to be as honest as possible. Besides, I'm a doctor as you recall. They're not going to doubt my diagnosis."
"They might doubt all your future diagnoses now that they've heard how atrocious you are at coming up with an excuse illness.
John tried to give Sherlock a dirty look, but he failed miserably and both of them just laughed. It felt so good to laugh and feel carefree. Nothing else in the world mattered right now to them except each other.
The rest of the day passed for the men of 221B in a blur. Mostly, they had spent the day draped around each other on the sofa.
In the afternoon, Mrs. Hudson brought up lunch for Sherlock. She was surprised to see John home, but she seemed unfazed by the sight of the two men snuggled up together on the couch. "Sorry boys, didn't mean to interrupt." She said as she set the tray down on the coffee table. "John, I didn't expect you home. I didn't bring up anything for you to eat. Give me a moment, I'll be back with something." She turned and walked out smiling to herself.
John looked down at Sherlock and let out a little groan.
"What is it John?" Sherlock looked up lazily at John.
"Just imagining how pleased Mrs. Hudson must be to see us like this."
"Are you upset that she knows?" Sherlock tensed and tried to sit up so he would no longer be draped across John's lap. But John pushed him back down into his lounging position.
"Of course not. I'm just thinking of all the time I wasted, denying what I knew to be true. She was right all along, I should have just listened to her." He shook his head slightly thinking of all the little remarks Mrs. Hudson had made, and how he had always tried to refute them. It seemed silly to him now. "She's probably grinning ear-to-ear right now."
When Mrs. Hudson returned with John's food, she was indeed wearing an extra-large grin. She fussed with some papers and books Sherlock had left strewn across the floor, and she made a comment under her breath about the dusting, but she couldn't stay mad at her boys, especially when they looked so happy.
She bid her farewell to them, telling them that if they needed anything, just to shout and she would come running. She closed the door behind her and they listened to her make her way down the stairs and back into her own flat.
John began stroking Sherlock's hair again, and the comfort they both felt was immense, so much so that the food on the coffee table was forgotten and went uneaten.
Around 7 pm a low rumble broke the serenity of the flat.
"Sounds like you're hungry." Sherlock's voice was almost a purr. He was lying on his back with his head at one end of the sofa and his feet at the other. His legs were parted, allowing John to lay between them with his head against Sherlock's chest.
John lifted his head and propped his chin against Sherlock's breastbone so he could look into those beautiful blue eyes. Sherlock watched as John's head moved slightly upward each time he inhaled.
"Have we eaten today?" John asked. "I don't remember. I've been too comfortable to care."He glanced over at the coffee table as he remembered Mrs. Hudson's food that was still sitting there. That's probably gone bad by now. "You're usually the only one who forgets to eat. Look what you're doing to me." He smiled at Sherlock, who couldn't help but smile back. John was amazed that in the past few hours he had seen Sherlock smile more than the entire time he'd lived with him. It made John's heart swell.
"Yes, well your stomach's beginning to disagree with the current arrangement. Come, let's get dinner." Sherlock made to sit up, but John just went right on lying there, pressing all his weight into him.
"Sherlock Holmes, are you asking me out on a date?" The look on Sherlock's face in response to this question is something that is permanently burned into John's memory. How could he ever forget that slight blush, half smile, and puppy-dog eyes?
"I...I don't normally do the dating thing. I've seen others do it before, but I've deleted that knowledge whilst decluttering my mind palace. I've never once worked a case in which I needed information on human romantic relations."
"Well, I'll tell you what. Kiss me, and I'll take you out on the first date. I'll show you how this works." John was rewarded with the sight of Sherlock's slight blush turning even redder.
Sherlock hesitated before pulling John up so that they were face to face. He looked into John's eyes, finding that one pure green sliver that made his heart skip a beat. He was almost certain that he was seeing an extreme positive emotion in those eyes. Pleasure? Amusement? Desire? His mind ran through the possibilities. He settled on desire and so put his hand on the back of John's head and pulled him down to press their lips together.
Sherlock was analyzing, John could tell. Their first and second kisses had been driven by instinctive, emotion-ridden movements, but this was John's real first trademark "Sherlock Holmes Kiss."
Sherlock's lips moved slowly. A small rhythm built as Sherlock pressed John's lower lip between both of his own, paused and the moved to the top lip. He kissed in this pattern starting at the right end of John's mouth, and moving slowly to the left.
At first John tried to kiss back, but each time he did, Sherlock's lips would stop moving. Soon John gave up and gave in to the sensation of just being kissed.
When Sherlock made it to the left end of John's mouth, he finished by placing his lips fully against John's so that their top and bottom lips were perfectly set against each other.
The kiss ended and Sherlock pulled his head back and released John, trying to read him. He felt an immense satisfaction when John let out the breath he'd forgot he'd been holding during the kiss.
"Well then. Mr. Holmes, would you care to go out on a date with me this evening?" John smiled at Sherlock, whose face lit up like Christmas.