John hated being a part of Sherlock's experiments. When the detective had asked (more like told him) that he would very much like it if John would take part in this experiment, and that they were out of milk, would he please go get some? John really should have said No.

But he had gotten the milk, and now he was strapped to one of their kitchen chairs.

His wrists were bound to the arms of the chair with duct tape, his legs left free. "It's better if you don't have control of your arms." Sherlock had said, his tone light but layered with so many things John didn't want to think about.

The doctor groaned softly as his flat mate quickly typed basic information into his laptop. "Will you get on with it?" John griped, his stomach rumbling with hunger. Sherlock didn't look away from the computer, but he rose an eyebrow to indicate he had been listening, but was choosing to ignore the doctor's complaining.

"Alright." The detective quickly popped from his perch on the counter, delicately setting down John's laptop before turning to the doctor. "First we will begin with light touches, nothing too stimulating."

John's brows furrowed, but he said nothing and just watched as Sherlock strode up to him with all the confidence of a jungle cat.

Pale fingers lightly touched his arm; gooseflesh instantly prickled John's skin (much to his embarrassment), Sherlock hummed in the back of his throat. "Interesting." John nearly scowled, but he settled for glowering over the detective's shoulder.

Sherlock's thumb began to message the area right above John's pulse; the action caused slight jumps of pleasantness to shoot up the doctor's arm. His pulse began to pick up, and John watched as Sherlock's eyes jumped over the minute changes. Flushed face, John could practically hear the detective listing to himself, dilated eyes, increased pulse.

The detective's hand moved away from John's arm to trail up the side of his neck. The doctor resisted the urge to lick at his lips in nervousness, but he swallowed thickly. Sherlock's eyes locked on the doctor's bobbing Adam's Apple and a small smile perked one corner of his mouth. "Fascinating."

Long fingers stroked the sides of John's face before Sherlock leaned down to skim his lips over the doctor's forehead. John's breath hitched slightly (the sound was so quite that no normal person would've been able to catch it); the detective hummed lightly, skimming his lips down the bridge of John's nose to hover experimentally over the doctor's lips.

John's eyes were comically wide, and a bright flush lit up his entire visage. Their breath mingled in the small space between them, and Sherlock felt his mind nearly fuzz over at the close proximity. He reluctantly pulled away, straightening as best as he could with a light cough.

"Thank you John, I have all the information I need." He quickly turned on his heel, grabbing the dazed doctor's laptop with sure fingers. The detective strode out of the kitchen to flop gracelessly on their sofa, curling up with John's laptop in order to appear that there was a reason for this experiment.

John blinked rapidly, shaking his head out of his daze. A renewed flush washed over his body as he stared down at the duct tape binds. "SHERLOCK!"

()End()

Sherlock and John...please just get married.