KISS ON THE CHEEK
The first time he’d ever kissed her was an apology. It didn’t count in his mind. It meant “I’m sorry.” A kiss should never mean “I’m sorry.”
The second time he’d kissed her, though…the second time he’d kissed her, it had meant many things. It had been thanks, and congratulations, and a good-bye of sorts. It had been a jumbled message of many things, reflecting the jumbled mess of emotions he felt towards her.
But there had been affection. Love. He’d cared for her. That should have been a sign right there:
Molly Hooper would always be important to him.
KISS OVER THE BACK OF THE HAND
The next time he kissed her, it had been the two of them and John and Mary, and they’d had a discussion on Victorian era etiquette, and how gentlemen used to show their admiration and reverence for a woman by brushing their lips across the back of their hand, and Molly had said why did that tradition ever die out, she wondered? And he hadn’t thought of it, really, but he’d stood and grasped her hand, bowed at the waist, and kissed the back of her hand, rendering her blushing and stammering, and Mary didn’t stop smirking for a week.
KISS ON THE KNUCKLES
He was trying to keep her safe the next time he kissed her. Assassins at Barts, hospital on lockdown. He wanted to get her to the roof, get her to safety. 75/25 odds they’d make it without injury. He could have pulled her in for a kiss on the lips, but…no. No, he was a coward. But a kiss across the knuckles, a sign of protectiveness, a signal that said “I will keep you safe,” that he could do. And she seemed to understand, accepting it with a nod. They’d sort the rest out later. For now? Get to safety.
KISS ON THE FINGERTIPS
i care about you
He’d miscalculated. Rather gravely, at that. But she was safe. That was what mattered.
When he came too she was at his hospital bed, her hand in his, dozing by his bedside. Every muscle in his body ached, feeling life he’d been tossed through the spin cycle of a dryer rather than down a flight of stairs, but he’d lifted her hand up and kissed her fingertips as she woke up, giving him a dazzling smile before gripping his hand tightly in hers. He never ever wanted her to let go.
He hoped to God she felt the same way.
KISS ON THE LIPS
He’d kissed her first. He’d been released from the hospital and she’d come to visit, and they sat on the sofa, sharing tea. She seemed nervous, and she started to ramble about them and their history, about how she felt and why they shouldn’t be together but how much she wanted to but why it was a horrible idea but why she didn’t care—
And then he’d simply leaned in and pressed his lips to hers, giving her a concrete sign of what his opinion on the matter was, and after a moment she kissed him back, in full agreement.
KISS OVER THE WRIST
i think you are beautiful/i find you attractive
They were taking things slowly, letting him get comfortable with things, and then one day she decided she needed a drastic change. He was terrified that meant leaving him but no, she just changed the décor and furniture in her flat, got a completely new wardrobe, got a drastic makeover.
She’d rather shyly revealed her new look to him at Baker Street and he’d reached for her hand, kissing her wrist before saying he was going to take the most beautiful woman in London out on a grand date.
Her beaming smile had been proof he’d done the right thing.
KISS ON THE PALM OF THE HAND
i am yours/i know you have me
Molly had never gotten nervous around other women, not until Irene popped up. Irene made Molly feel inadequate. Plain. Mousy.
He wanted to throttle her for that.
Once the business was done and Irene was sent packing her pulled Molly close. He pulled her palm to his lips and kissed it, telling her that there could be a million women like Irene Adler in the world, all vying for his attention, and none of them would ever have it because all of his attention belonged to her. He loved her, Molly Hooper, and that was all there was to it.
KISS ON THE KNEES
i want to support you
She’d taken a tumble while on heels. Nothing too major, not even a scrape. Just a sore knee to show for it. She’d said that, perhaps, a kiss would make it better. He was in an impish mood and so he knelt down, kissing her knee instead of her lips. She’d chuckled at that and said that if he’d kiss her knee that meant he supported her, which was true, he supposed. Whatever she wanted, whatever dreams she had, he wanted to be a part of that. He wanted to be in her future as long as he possibly could.
KISS ON THE NOSE
you make me happy
He wasn’t one for cutesy gestures, not usually, but because of the height difference, every once in a while, he’d look down and just get the urge to kiss her nose. Just a quick little peck. Normally when he’d get filled with an overwhelming sense of happiness. And it was Molly that made him so happy. She was the light of his life in so many ways, the brightness that shone through the dark places in his mind. He loved her for that. He loved her more than he thought she really knew, and one day, perhaps, he’d show her.
KISS ON THE NECK
i want you/you are mine
When they finally decided to move their relationship forward, it was with some trepidation. He wasn’t exactly the sex god Janine made him out to be. But as he pressed a kiss to her neck, as he felt her hands move to his shoulders to find something to cling to, as her heard her sigh softly and felt her press her body against his, he knew that no matter what tonight brought, she would still be with him in the morning. She would be patient. She would still want him.
She would still love him.
And that was what mattered.
KISS ON THE STOMACH
He should be sleeping. So should she, to be honest. But oh, the first time went much better than he had thought it would, and there was more that he wanted to do. More he wanted to touch, to feel, to taste.
He pressed a kiss to her stomach as she writhed slightly beneath him, eagerly awaiting what was going to come next. He was eager for it to. He wasn’t going to be able to get enough of her. She was as intoxicating as drugs of old, and just as addictive.
But oh, at least she was worth it.
KISS OVER THE HEART
i am connected to you
She was asleep, tangled up in sheets that only partially covered their bodies. He was almost asleep himself, just about to give into exhaustion.
He loved her more than he loved anyone and anything on this earth, he realized. He would do anything for Molly, anything at all. He was connected to her in a way he wasn’t connected to anyone else: not his family, not his friends, not even John. She had his heart, all to herself.
He pressed a kiss to her heart before laying down himself. “I love you, Molly,” he said before drifting off to sleep.