Ok so I have made some changes to this chapter regarding some of the comments I got on it... hope it sounds better: D
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in the fic, unless I decide to make someone up, which I doubt it will because they are all perfect.
As Sherlock sat crossed legged in the middle of the room playing his violin john sat there on his favourite armchair, legs crossed and fingers intertwined with each other and resting on his upper lip listening intently. John had always loved watching Sherlock play; it soothed him even on the most stressful of days. Sherlock had always had this affect on him, since the very first day they met in the lab, he couldn't quite figure out what it was in Sherlock that made butterflies appear in his stomach the instant he lays eyes on him. Was it his sociopathic ways, his striking good looks and his perfectly prominent cheek bones or was it just his whole aurora and john's intrigue? John really didn't care just as long as Sherlock was always there.
'Would you be so kind as to stop staring at me, it is most distracting.'
John had forgotten how long he sat been sitting there gazing longingly at Sherlock, he did it very often, he always forgot about the world, everyone and everything around him. It was just him and Sherlock. 'John, please.' said Sherlock who had now ceased playing his violin and was looking at john 'sorry Sherlock, you know how I get when I hear you play'. Sherlock smiled and there was a slight twinkle in his eye (which john failed to spot) when he said 'I know'.
John stood abruptly trying to force out his feeling for Sherlock which were gradually taking over 'urr, Sherlock...' john started 'yes john, what is it? Something bothering you?' of course Sherlock already knew what it was john wanted to say, he had known for months how john's feelings for him had changed into something more, he could tell by the fidgeting when ever he entered the room and whenever he spoke to him, john's cheeks flushed a harsh shade of crimson. Sherlock had to admit he wanted to be more than just friends but he wanted john to be one to say it first. 'I'm going to get some jam, do you want anything?' Sherlock sighed and replied 'we need more milk.'
Walking around the shop john had forgotten what he had gone there for; he just needed to get out of the flat before he totally lost control and pounced on Sherlock, ripped his clothes off and devoured him right then and there. Whilst john was daydreaming about how perfect Sherlock was he was shunted back to reality. He was suddenly aware of the food falling out of his arms and rolling onto the floor. 'Oh hi Sarah, sorry, was in my own little world.' Sarah was exceptionally pleased to see john (not that she didn't already know where he was) 'john, hi! Fancy running into you' she said picking up the food that had fallen from john's arms 'yea, I'm just getting some milk, Sherlock wants a cuppa so I best be off' john turned to walk away and wanted to get out of their as fast as possible 'john, wait a minute' Sarah called out to him just as he turned his back, john froze on the spot and tensed up, please don't ask me out, please don't ask me out. 'I was wandering, do you want to go for a drink tonight?'. 'Urr... Yea, I suppose so... Where and when?' john cringed at the very words '7pm, the scarlet hound'. John agreed to the arrangement and left the shop as fast as he possibly could. How could the woman not know he was gay, it was so obvious, the way he looked at Sherlock was such a give away, and Sarah wasn't stupid, surely she would notice that, But John could never say no, he hated it when he was rejected so he wouldn't bring the feeling on anyone else. He arrived back at 221b but only to find Sherlock was no longer on his violin but in the shower, he had left to door slightly ajar, on purpose? Or was that just john's wishful thinking?