SHERLOCK: NOT OKAY

Disclaimers note: This is the first Sherlock fanfic I've written. Unfortunately I don't own anything otherwise we'd have a series 15 by now! :(

Author's note: This is rated M for sex and drug use. I'm sorry for any spelling/grammar mistakes, I am typing this all out on my iPhone haha. Also I apologise for any Britishism mistakes, which would be embarrassing seeing as I'm a Londoner. Furthermore, I've never done cocaine, I don't know how someone that uses it acts; so I've done my best portrayal based on the varying info from the world wide Interwebs.

I've tried my best to keep I character and I apologise for any inconsistencies etc... I also apologise a lot because I'm too British at times haha.

This was originally meant to be a 'prelude' to a real story of Sherlock and Molly facing the consequences of their night together which would then be set after HLV. But this turned out to be pretty long (I think can't really tell when typing on iPhone) so should I leave it as it is or carry it on? All reviews, opinions, criticism (constructive hehe) very much appreciated!

God I hope this posts okay with paragraphs and stuff... Again iPhone probs!

I'm gonna go now...

Enjoy!

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UPDATE: Since originally typing the above author's note I've decided this will be a full story not just a one shot! :) so this is officially chapter one!

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CHAPTER ONE

They gave in that night.

She gave into his harsh words and gave him what he wanted, despite the fact he was just using her as always.

He gave in to boredom along his basic human instinct and desire of need and to be wanted.

He'd left the wedding half hour before midnight. He was genuinely happy for John but he knew he didn't belong in such social situations, it was just awkward and he knew he'd stayed longer than anyone had expected him to, so his departure wouldn't go down badly. Not that anyone would notice; everyone was pretty much drunk.

'Have you ever felt alone in a room full of people?'

John had said that to him once. He shook the words from his mind as he hailed a taxi. He wasn't lonely. He was bored. It had been nearly an hour since solving his last case, the invisible man, now he was bored again.

"Charles Magnussen," he murmured to himself. Now that the wedding was over that would be his focus. Something to ease the boredom and he knew where he had to start.

"Where to?"

He snapped out of his thoughts and realised at black cab had pulled up in front of him he was about to say Baker Street but changed his mind. He had something he needed to pick up first.

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All night she'd been stealing longing glances at him. As usual, he didn't notice, even when she'd snogged Tom's face off in front of him he just went about his business. He seemed far more interested in that Janine. Not that she was anything special. But she watched him as he left, his expression. She almost felt sorry for him.

She left the wedding an hour after he did. She made her excuses to Tom that she'd drunk too much and needed to go. He offered to rent a hotel room for the night but she declined, he then said that he'd accompany her back to her flat or his flat, but she declined that too. She told him to stay and enjoy the rest of the night seeing as he was getting along with everyone so well, it took a bit of persuading but he agreed in the end. He called her a minicab and saw her off, telling her to text him when she arrived home. She agreed and kissed her fiancée goodnight.

The moment she was in the cab she gave the driver a different address.

"221b Baker Street please."

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He felt the rush almost instantaneously.

It had been too long. Years, in fact. This should ease the boredom. No, the case would ease the boredom. This was all just for the case. He was doing this for the case and as soon as it was over he'd go cold turkey again.

John would be away on his 'sex holiday' so he wouldn't find out, once he'd found a suitable den he wouldn't be at home much so Mrs Hudson wouldn't find out either. Lestrade and Molly wouldn't be of bother, Molly was too wrapped up in Tom anyway and his brother, well, he could avoid Mycroft's surveillance if he really wanted to. And by the time they did find out, when his drug habit hit the media, they wouldn't be mad they'd be appreciative of the fact that once again Sherlock Holmes was saving the day. Not that he was a hero or he cared whether they were mad at him or not.

He threw the rolled up fiver to the side and leaned back in his armchair closing his eyes.

Everything rushed so quickly through his mind, he didn't know if he was talking out loud but he knew he was going through the details and facts he already had on Charles Magnussen.

Then there was a knock at the front door. He looked at his watch, gone midnight. He hoped the person would go away but they kept on knocking. With a growl he got up and pulled back the curtain to look outside. Molly Hooper. This was all he needed and she was looking up at him. Great.

He wiped any leftover traces of the cocaine off of the table and threw the other packets of powder and the discarded £5 note into a kitchen drawer before going downstairs to open the door.

"Molly," he said unenthusiastically.

"Sherlock," she smiled at him there was an almost awkward silence before she spoke again. "Erm... Are you okay?"

He realised she was looking at his foot that was tapping away, he stopped abruptly. "I'm fine, what do you want?"

"Can I come in?"

He stared at her for a few seconds before stepping aside to let her in. Once the front door was closed he could smell alcohol.

"You're drunk." He stated as she followed him upstairs.

"Am not," came her delayed reply.

"Why are you here?" He repeated impatiently, "shouldn't you be having lots of sex with Tom right now?" He didn't have to look at her to know she would probably blush as he used her own words against her.

"Sherlock," she grabbed him by arm making him face her as they reached the top of the stairs something he wasn't expecting, must be the alcohol, she rarely initiated any physical contact with him when sober. Not that he noticed.

"Tell me, are you okay?" she gave him a warm look and he noted her dilated pupils. Lust and intoxication. Then his eyes travelled down to her lips, she was going on about something but he wasn't paying any attention. She had a small mouth, thin lips even with the lipstick. Not like his own lips. They weren't thin. He wondered if him kissing her would feel different to her kissing him, because of their lip sizes.

"Your pupils are dilated."

Sherlock shook his head, that definitely wasn't him saying that. "I had a couple of drinks at the wedding," he explained, knowing she wouldn't expect otherwise.

"You're drunk?"

"I said a couple and now that we've established that I'm not drunk and apparently okay. You can go home now." He pulled his arm out of her grasp and walked towards the kitchen, stopping at the counter, stretching out his arms and grabbing the sides, tapping away with his fingers.

"That's not why I'm here," she said. "I know you're not okay, I always know remember."

"You're also drunk, you don't know what you're on about and neither do I." he lowered his voice and hung his head taking a deep breath before pushing himself off the counter to face the pathologist with a fake smile plastered across his face. "I am perfectly fine Molly; let me call you a cab."

"Sherlock!" She said defiantly.

"Go away!" He snapped, "I am fine, I'm not lonely because John's got married and I don't need a goldfish!" He took a seat on the sofa leaning forward resting his elbows on his knees and running his hands through his hair.

"Goldfish?" he heard her mutter. Then she carried on talking to him, at him. Something about loneliness.

He'd wanted something to distract him from his boredom but he'd never asked for this. Not her words or irritating concern for him. But there was something she could give. Sexual gratification; something he was growing increasingly curious about and, even though he'd never given into it yet, drugs had always lowered his inhibitions and increased his desire for it.

"You." He interrupted her looking up going into full 'charm' mode.

"Excuse me?"

"Why would I be lonely when I have you, Molly Hooper?"

She opened her mouth to speak then closed it again and he smirked, that had shut her up.

"You've said it yourself before, I have you."

"No," she said, "you don't have me anymore. Tom has me."

"But yet you're here with me and I didn't even have to tell you that I needed you." He stood up and walked behind her, she stood completely still. "So what if I did tell you that I needed you again?" He whispered in her ear.

"What..." Her voice cracked. "What do you mean? What do you need?"

"Just you," he kissed her lightly on her jawbone causing her to spin around and push him away.

"What are you doing?"

"You're the expert," he chuckled, "you tell me!"

"Why would you do that? You know I'm with Tom! You can't just do this now because I'm with someone else!"

"Now, you care about Tom?" He snorted, "I bet he doesn't even know that you're here right now." He stepped forward, closing space between them. "You'd much rather be here with me."

Her lips parted to speak but before any words could leave her mouth he'd claimed it with his own. Forcing his tongue into her mouth, it was sloppy but he was too caught up in the moment to care. She was quickly kissing him back, using her own tongue as they battled for dominance to feel each other.

"This is wrong," she sighed as the broke apart.

"I want you Molly Hooper." He said as if that justified it, he pressed kisses down her neck, "I want you to show me what it's like to be with another person."

"You've never..."

"Never," he answered before she could finish.

"Just tonight. One night. That's all."

"That's all I ask."

It wasn't long before hands were roaming over each other's bodies. Clumsily stripping each other of clothes, he found himself glad she was somewhat drunk as it gave her confidence he was sure she wouldn't normally have around him. It didn't take much to turn him on, he honestly couldn't tell whether it was an effect of cocaine, whether it was just a normal physical response to her hands touching him or maybe it was out of anticipation of knowing he was going to experience something new, something not boring. Then there was the theory that subconsciously he actually wanted her and the thought of her turned him on. But that theory was ludicrous.

They were soon stripped to just their underwear. She was wearing a lacy red bra and matching panties. Her lips were still thin and her breasts still small. But he would be lying of he said that he still didn't find her aesthetically pleasing.

He pulled her close to carry on kissing and fiddled with the clasp on her bra, a task he found surprisingly difficult, but he didn't let it defeat him and the bra was soon with the other discarded clothing on the floor.

He kissed down her body and then took her nipple into his mouth. He knew this was an erogenous zone and as he expected she gasped out of pleasure. He gave her other nipple the same treatment before continuing kissing down her body until he was on his knees in front of her.

He knew what he was meant to do next, now he just had to put it into practise. He pulled down her panties, her hands already fisting his hair in anticipation. She was already so wet and ready, he could have her there and then without wasting time on this foreplay. But he was curious. What did she taste like? He licked her slit and she gasped a profanity, the taste was neither nice nor nasty but he did like the vocal reaction he got. He went at her with his tongue again and found her clit flicking it and sucking it. The way she moaned his name was most pleasing. He could feel his cock throbbing. Enough time wasting.

He stood back up.

"Why did you stop?" Molly sighed breathlessly.

"Sorry darling," he grunted stepping out of his boxers, "I need this much more." He pushed her up against the nearest wall and she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, he placed a hand on her arse to support her.

"I'm on the pill," she said even though he wasn't asking.

He used his free hand to guide his cock towards her entrance and with one single thrust pushed up inside her.

"Fuck!" They said simultaneously.

He didn't waste any time going slowly, he was impatient and knew she could accommodate him easily; it wasn't as if she hadn't had sex in a while. He thrusted fast, biting her neck, uncaring whether he left a mark. Her problem, not his. It wouldn't be long before he finished and despite her continuous moaning, he had no idea whether he was hitting the 'g spot' he'd heard about. He didn't want to cum first, so to help her along he took a hand to her clit using his finger to rub it in circles.

She moaned louder and grabbed at his back, it seemed she would mark him too without any care. And then she came undone. Climaxing, she called out his name, sinking her nails into him and tightening her wet entrance around his cock. A few more thrusts were all he needed to send him over the edge too. He was much less vocal, just letting out a long satisfied gasp. Immense pleasure swept through his entire body and, again he wasn't sure if it was due to the drugs he'd taken, his senses seemed heightened to the extreme. That was coming for a man who already paid attention to every little thing that happened around him. His brain became a mess, he couldn't focus, his brain was fighting over letting the pleasure overcome him or regaining control. A million irrelevant thoughts crossed his mind then he could feel her touching him, her hands trailing over his back where she'd previously scratched him, the pain felt amplified. He wanted to push her away from him but he couldn't.

Instead, he held their position for a moment and rested his forehead against the wall, breathing heavily. Waiting until he'd regained his composure and his brain was back to its normal, albeit high, self of being able to make sense of everything. Then he let go of her and her feet found the floor again.

Molly leaned into his chest and he hesitated for a moment before gently trailing his finger over his cheek then placed a kiss there.

"Thank you Molly, and sorry."

"Sorry?"

"I've pretty much destroyed your marriage. Although I'm sure stabbing him with a fork had already sealed the deal."

"Tom and I will be fine," she said defensively looking up at him. Her eyes suddenly glazed with tears and despite his apology he realised he didn't want to deal with the crying or guilt at the moment.

"Okay," he said then he bent his head down to catch her lips between his for a prolonged kiss then he broke apart and without any word picked up his clothes and headed towards the bathroom to clean up and get dressed. His thought process was becoming clouded again, not because a high or a rush this time but everything was slowing down. He hadn't missed this; the comedown from the cocaine. He was craving more already. But he knew he couldn't, he had to learn to limit himself if he was going to survive the next month.

"Stay here tonight." He suggested confidently returning to the living area, Molly had stepped back into the yellow dress he decided she looked better without and was presumably looking for local minicab numbers on her phone.

"No more sex, but you said one night, I have one night. It's not over yet."

"I have to be home by ten," she stopped looking at her phone. "Tom will be over mine at 10:30 with breakfast as always when I'm not working, even if he's hungover." As she explained this, a genuine smile formed on her face and Sherlock had to remind himself that he didn't do guilt. Just like he didn't do sentiment.

He took her by the hand and led her to the bedroom. She changed into a plain white t-shirt of his which ridiculously big on her, he had to fight back the smile at this. He stopped to his boxers. When she got under the covers he kissed her cheek again saying their goodnights.

She turned away from him and knew she was doing her best not to touch him. She was still nervous despite what they'd just done together.

He lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, trying to get his thoughts together. What seemed like hours passed. He wasn't sure when he'd finally managed to fall asleep or how long he'd been asleep before waking up but he could tell it was still early hours of the morning.

His first thought was cocaine but he realised Molly's arm had found itself flung over his bare chest and her head buried into the side if his shoulder. She'd probably awaken if he got up now for a fix.

It wasn't worth it.

He'd already given into temptation too much that evening.