I have a file of partial stories and bits and bobs I've deleted from existing stories but liked too much to completely delete. When I was adding some stuff to day I found the beginnings of what you see below and added to it. So have some T rated Post Reichenbach Sherlock POV angst.
Without thinking, he steps forward and presses a kiss to her lips. Her gasp of surprise only spurs him on; his hands move of their own accord, pulling her close, until one arm is around her shoulders and the fingers of his other hand are tugging at the elastic holding her hair in a loose pony-tail on the back of her neck.
"Sherlock!" she exclaims, pushing him away. Her cheeks are red, her pupils fully dilated, and she is panting a bit, but he can tell it's as much from worry as desire. Not fear; for some reason, she's never feared him even at times like this, when he fears himself, what he might be capable of doing. "What are you…what was that?"
"A kiss," he replies, keeping his voice as bored and disinterested as he can manage. "I believe you've heard of them?"
"Why kiss me?" she asks - no, demands. He much prefers her demanding rather than pleading, although he suspects that could easily change under the right circumstances. Circumstances which he is just now realizing he is attempting to initiate. "What do you want?"
"You," he replies honestly. "Right now I want you. Is that good enough for you, Molly Hooper? That I want you?"
Her expression is curiously unreadable; is she contemplating kissing him again, or slapping him? Fortunately for him, she opts for the former rather than the latter, which he very much appreciates; although it might be interesting to let her slap him around a bit, he'd very much like to go back to snogging her at the moment. Snogging her, and perhaps doing a bit more before he heads off to his self-imposed task of destroying what remains of Moriarty's network.
She tugs him to her bedroom as they continue to kiss, and he understands that yes, this will go beyond snogging.
Good.
He lacks the practical experience of sex, and this way he'll have another weapon in his arsenal that he might find useful.
That's the lie he tells himself - and her - as she very thoroughly relieves him of just about every virginity he has left. She pretends to believe him as she kisses him good-bye, and he pretends not to want to remain in her arms for the next thousand years or so as he walks out the door.
For the sake of his sanity, he must lock away his feelings for Molly Hooper just as he's locked away his friendship for John and Lestrade and Mrs. Hudson. For however long it takes, he has to pretend they and London will remain in a sort of stasis until he returns.
But when he does return - oh, the plans he has for Molly Hooper and her loving arms…