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Maybe it was a bad idea. John had told him countless times today that he was a total and complete arsehole if he went ahead and did what he planned to do.
Sherlock rolled his eyes. Sometimes, John held him to ridiculously high standards. It's not as if he would be doing anything wrong per se. He just wanted to see how Molly would react to a proper snog. It would be an experi-no, not an experiment. That is the last word he needed to think of in tandem with his motivations.
Perhaps...a test? Yes. That sounded much better. This would be a test to gauge Molly's reaction to his kiss.
Strange. Just the thought of pressing his lips to hers made Sherlock's heart beat a bit harder against his chest. The detective held his palms up and frowned. The skin was covered in a light sheen of sweat.
I've never sweated before, though. Certainly not where Molly is concerned. She's usually been just a friend. A very good friend. A friend who I've been having some wildly inappropriate thoughts about, not to mention, dreams.
The detective ran a hand through his hair and sighed. Why was he so nervous? It's not as if he hadn't been in this flat alone with Molly several times before. And it was just a kiss. He'd been snogged a few times. Well, once was at uni when he did it on a dare, goaded on by his idiotic peers. Then, there was Irene - and she had been the one doing the majority of the snogging - but no one after.
Something deep down inside of Sherlock whispered that a snog with Molly might have more meaning than he thinks it would.
Alright, damn it. Maybe I am doing this for selfish reasons. So I want to know what Molly's lips would feel like pressed to mine? Is that a crime? I've been thinking of nothing else for the past few days and the logical thing would be to snog her and get it over with. I need to understand-
"Sherlock?"
He stopped in his tracks and turned slowly. Molly stood a few feet away from him with a curious expression on her features. She blinked and came a bit closer. "You look like you've got something heavy on your mind. Are you alright?"
Even now, she could still surprise him. Molly Hooper had always been there for him, giving him access to the lab, letting him examine bodies in the morgue, giving him assistance on his cases and even telling him that she was there for him emotionally if he needed it.
Sherlock could recall the many times Molly looked at him with pride or with a gentleness in her eyes that she reserved for him. He had mocked her, humiliated her, manipulated her, taken advantage of her. For years, his treatment of Molly had been thoroughly terrible and until now, Sherlock never felt such guilt from so many encounters eat away at him like this. There could be one explanation for this feeling.
He was in love with Molly Hooper.
"Sherlock? Are you ill?" Molly had watched his expression with extreme concern and came closer to him, resting her palm in his forehead. She knew that he wasn't one for tactile affection, but if he was sick, he needed to have his temperature checked.
The touch of her hand on his head made everything Sherlock planned to say go out of his head. Talking right now would fail him, so he did the only thing he could do in this situation.
He gathered her in his arms and kissed her.
At first, the petite pathologist gasped in surprise, and since her lips parted, that gave Sherlock access to slide his tongue into her mouth. Molly's legs shook, and, sensing that she was about to fall, Sherlock held her closer to him and kissed her more thoroughly.
Eventually, they had to pull back to breathe, but Sherlock kept holding Molly as a precaution. He didn't want her to faint over that kiss - okay, maybe that was a bit cocky, but he judged her reactions one by one and stored them in his mind palace for sake keeping, so evidently, she had enjoyed it.
"W-why me?"
The question took him off guard and in that instant, he spoke what he was in his heart. "You make me feel like I can be a better man when you're around. I always have. You see the real me and you understand me more than anyone else. You don't mind it if I'm vulnerable with you, but I never understood what that meant. I never cared about it...until now."
Molly's eyes lit up. "Sherlock..."
"I know that I have the worst possible timing and you're probably sick to death of dealing with me, but you're always waiting and patient and I appreciate that.
"Sherlock."
"I know I should have told you before, but you know, as John is fond of saying, I'm a complete git, but I really am trying because I want this to work."
"Sherlock!"
The detective stopped talking and looked at the woman in front of him curiously. He noticed the unshed tears in her eyes and the tiny smile on her face. In that moment, Molly looked the happiest that he had ever seen her.
"What is it?"
"You talk too much." She dug her fingers into his ebony curls and pulled him down to her level. Her arms circled his waist and she gave him a squeeze that made his heart jump.
Warmth grew inside Sherlock and spread like a wildfire as he raised his arms, wrapping them around her shoulders. He could feel her heart beating against his and he heard the soft breaths that came from Molly's mouth as they embraced.
Neither one knew how long they stood there, but it didn't really matter. This moment was important to them both.
Then a hand smacked Sherlock on the chest.
"Hey!" He took a step back and frowned at Molly. "What was that for?"
"Because you deserve it! It took you long enough to realise you were in love with me, you wanker!"
A seductive smile spread across his lips. "Oh, to be sure. I have had your pretty face in my head many times as I wanked off."
Molly's cheeks flushed and she gaped at him. "Sherlock Holmes!"
He ignored her admonishment and took her hand in his, grazing his lips along the knuckles. Just a light touch that had the perfect measure of sensuality to it. When their eyes met again, Sherlock smiled in triumph. Molly's pupils were so blown and her pulse had gotten very erratic.
"Stop denying yourself, Molly. Just let go," he whispered in her ear. He placed a wet kiss on the jaw and stroked a finger over her tender wrist, extracting a moan from her.
"Bed," she mumbled.
Sherlock stopped his ministrations and looked into her eyes again. "What?"
"I'd rather make love to you on your bed if you don't mind. Having my first time with you on the carpet isn't a very desirable option."
A deep-throated laugh came from Sherlock's lips and he touched her cheek. "Oh, I love you, Molly Hooper."
"And I love you, Sherlock Holmes." Molly nuzzled her nose to his, then she drew back and slapped him on the arse. "The first one who gets their clothes off gets to be on top!"
Sherlock watched her run into his bedroom, already in the process of removing her jumper, but he immediately followed suit. "You'll be surprised how quickly I can undress myself," he quipped as he divested his jacket and kicked the door shut.
"We'll just see about that!" She said with a laugh as she tossed her shirt at his head.
There was no doubt about it. Being with Molly Hooper was going to be nothing less than an adventure.