John's Acceptance, a sherlock fanfic

ATTENTION:

This is a role play my friend and I had made. In order to give credit to each post, the K stands for one writer while the A stands for another, in case you get confused. :3 Now enjoy the awesomeness that is Sherlock and John! Also, this of course takes place before the 3rd episode of season 2.

The night was suppose to be a splendid one. The former doctor was planning a great date to have with his current girlfriend of a few months, and honestly he thought that she was wonderful. There was never any problems, and never any arguing... until... tonight.

John sighed as he sat at the bar feeling like a hopeless reck. Of course... the argument was about his little 'hobby' that he likes to do to relieve stress. This hobby included Sherlock Holmes-the famous detective-and the dangerous investigations that tend to go on time and time again. There was no way Watson would give that up, even for such a pretty face.

Not yet, anyways.

Drinking his third cup of scotch, he exhaled out with his eyes shut. Although his mind was normally smart enough to not let him get too intoxicated, he thought of dismissing it at least for tonight. What's the worst that could happen? Spending another good hour chugging down liquor, the bartender finally decided that he had enough for one night when it appeared that Watson couldn't have his glass find his mouth. Huffing a bit at that, he concluded that he should probably head back home.

Stumbling near the street, he slurred a call for a cabby. As soon as Watson knew it, he was walking up the stairs to his room that he shared with the detective. Holmes was a strange man, a very strange man. John couldn't even tell if the man was a homosexual or what... but he was definitely different. He seemed detached from his emotions, and only had work on his mind. Watson always thought that it was a very inhuman thing to do... but the man was quite a looker, he would give him that.

Almost toppling into the room, his eyes gazed around to find the man messing with his violin near the window. "Don't you have any sort of life outside of that contraption and your work?" He suddenly blurted out, being much out of his normal character.

Sherlock of course didn't answer the question give to him by his returning flatmate. His eyes merely glanced toward the drunken blot before going back to focusing on his instrument.

Clearly dear Watson had been dumped by his new interest. Sherlock could just smell the scotch and smoke coming from John's jacket. This poor man had again become intoxicated over a mindless relationship. Really, why go into a relationship with someone when you'd just end up a mess like this. It really was idiotic. This was why Sherlock had his work, and why he was married to it.

"You really should sit down, John." The man finally stated as his finger strung one of the strings from his instrument.

"Ha!" The man laughed, before shutting the door behind him. "You think I... need to sit... because I'm a little drunk? PFT." Watson shook his head as his flushed cheeks just filled more with his little bits of laughter.

This man always thinks that he's better than everyone, and some times it appears to be absolutely annoying. Looking over at Sherlock though, he couldn't help but to admire the others odd but attractive features. Normally they were something that Watson ignored, but the way the moon reflected off of his pale skin just made the other look stunning in a sense.

Nearing towards Sherlock, he began to crouch down until his hand was rested on the man's instrument, serving as a type of balance and to have the other stop his playing. Fogged eyes were glued onto the detective's face until he subconsciously extended his other hand out to gently feel along the man's broad neck.

"Why can't you understand my sort of pain? Is it because no one out there strikes your interest? Well that's hogwash!" The man exclaimed before taking a seat very close to Holmes. "You really... need to open up and do something with your social life every now and then." Watson slurred as seriously as he could.

Sherlock expresion was bewildered. What had just happened? He could still feel the ghostly touch of John's hand along his neck. Yet he shrugged it off, or at least try to. John was drunk, he wasn't coherent and was acting towards his emotions. "John, clearly you're intoxicated and do not know what you're saying." He placed his violen to the side next to his chair before looking to John. This man-

was a trained soldier, able to kill a man with his bare hands and yet here he was crummbled up into peices by some girl. It was pathetic. Usually John was just so interesting to be around, someone that Sherlock actually enjoyed his company. But right now, Watson was quite to close and reeked of liquir. "You really should just go to bed John."

"You're not my mum, I'll go to bed whenever I want!" The man whined with a frown.

Sherlock thought he was so cool just because he was so smart and intelligent... Hmph. Glaring a bit at the man, John had one of his hands grab the man's chin to have Holmes look at him better. Watson wanted a better look at the man's face, simply because there was a need to admire it again, though wasn't realizing that he was doing it so bluntly.

"You turn down so many pretty girls, and it's not fair to them. You really do have a nice face... your eyes kind of glow..." He muttered, spacing out a bit into his own train of thought.

His eyes glowed? Was John hitting on him in some way? He really had too much scotch.

"You are flirting, John." He suddenly pointed out, wanting John to realize what he was doing.

It wasn't that the brunette minded much. He didn't have a problem with compliments. He already knew that yes, he most likely is very good looking. But really, John was never the kind of person to compliment Holmes features; maybe his intelligence, but not features. Usually people who were dizzy from the alcohol would say things that were in their thoughts subconsciously. Was this something that had always followed John in his thoughts? That mind set couldn't help but to make the corner of his lips twitch into a smirk.

"You really had too much scotch. Let's get you into your bed." He stated, grasping the hand that held his chin and using it to lead John to his flat upstairs.

John weakly tried to pull his hand back the whole time, but by the time his head hit that pillow the man couldn't help but to completely knock out. Snores began to rumble from his throat until it was obvious that he was off into a dreamland now.

The following morning though, the doctor couldn't remember a thing. John always hated nights like that, because it was almost impossible to know if he did something idiotic that he would deeply regret. Of course, a hangover followed through as well, but it wasn't something he couldn't handle... plus, today him and Sherlock had to go investigate a scene downtown. Watson never knew what the crime was until they got there, but always relied on Sherlock to be the one to clear up any questions that may appear while being at the scene.

The case was practically easy. A man's body was found at his home, mutilated and disfigured. The police-a bunch of imbeciles-believed that someone had a hit on the man and sneaked into his home to kill him. Sherlock knew that wasn't the case once he stepped into the crime scene along with John right behind him. The police explained as clearly as they could what they had found, but Holmespaid little mind. He looked to the body, scanned it, paying mind to all the small details.

Sherlock breathed out and looked back to John. "Someone didn't come in here, he was killed at home by a resident."

John blinked at that statement, always finding himself shocked by how quickly Sherlock could make those accurate assumptions. His eyes scanned the body as well, using his own medical skills, but still couldn't catch the little details that lead the detective to believe that.

"What makes you think so?" Watson questioned with a curious gaze towards Holmes as he began to crouch next to the dead body, examining the wounds closer.

Sherlock walked toward a picture of the man and a woman. A woman in a white dress, his wife of course.

"Clearly those stab wounds on the man's body are from a kitchen knife. A large one at that." He picked up the picture and scanned if before setting it down. "The knife is missing because clearly the police haven't found the weapon." The brunette walked along to the living room, looking along it.

There was blankets and a pillow along one couch. Clearly the husband had been spending time on the couch rather than in bed with his wife. It seemed that this couch was slept on by him more than once by the imprint left on it. A marriage gone wrong it seems.

"So where is the wife, John? Have you seen a woman anywhere around here?" He stepped back toward the other waiting for an answer, but only sawhim look around. "Yes exactly she isn't here. Now how strange if she was gone on business, wouldn't you think that the husband would have slept upstairs in bed rather than on the couch?"

John remained silent as he looked at all of the clues with his own eyes. Every time after they would be pointed out, he'd feel like such an idiot.

"No... I suppose he would have went upstairs, then." He stated while pressing his lips out a bit in thought. A murder that the wife committed... "... wouldn't it have been easier to get a divorce than to have a murder on your hands? That's a bit much, wouldn't you agree?" The blonde suggested, always putting his own inputs to help Sherlock justify his case more. There was no doubt though that this man was amazing. Obviously this case was child's play for someone like him.

"Would it be? Might as well kill a person then fight for a divorce." He stepped toward John and looked down toward the man. "People are greedy John. She possibly thought of a divorce, but why waste your energy fighting for money when you could just kill for it instead? Sadly this woman did not do a good job of planning." He glanced toward John, seeing how he just looked at him. He really admiredhim didn't he. No. . it was more than that, Sherlock knew that now.

He smirked at the other before turning to tell the police to search for a kitchen knife and for the wife.

He caught that smirk that shined on Sherlock's face before he turned away, and tilted his head. What was that look about? It wasn't something that was common on the taller man's face, but tried to just dismiss it. Although still there was something off in Sherlock's eyes... possibly...

Watson was probably just being paranoid. Last night still had him a bit on edge. God knows what he could have said, but it shouldn't have been too bad.

Following behind the detective, he overheard the police go in awe by the man's observation until thanking him and starting to get on with their job. Honestly, this case was nothing special at all. Shoving his hands within his jacket, he watched people scatter around the crime scene. Watson felt so short whenever he was around other men... it kind of made him feel intimidated. Holmes certainly didn't help that either. Trying to ignore the thought, he suddenly cleared his throat.

"So, what do you want to do for lunch?" He suddenly asked, feeling his stomach start to turn in hunger.

"Eat of course." He stated blatantly as he walked along past the police caution tape and into the glanced back to see John's frustrated face at that answer. Ah yes he meant probably where to eat. "How about you choose a place John? Some where nice for this 'date'" He stated simply, making a bit of a joke yet Sherlock never really seemed like he was joking. He then stopped at side walkand turned to look toward the other. John did not at all look as though he took that 'date' thing as a joke.

Trying to not blush too much, he huffed in frustration as he began to walk ahead of the other man.

"This isn't a DATE. I don't know how many times I have to clarify that I'm not gay, but I'm not." He stated in a matter-of-fact tone. "You can like what you want to like, that's fine, but I already have my preference picked out." Watson began heading in a direction towards a small restaurant that was about a block away, but could just feel Sherlock's amused eyes on him.

He tried to calm down his panicking heart though, seeing that he shouldn't even be feeling like that. Sure Sherlock didn't joke much... but maybe this once it was. Although it felt highly unlikely. A sigh left his lips as the confusion filled his mind.

Yes, yes not gay. Sherlock already had heard that a billion of other occasions. Funny how John just assumes Sherlock shrugged lightly. It was just all fun and games, there was no need for the man to have a fit.

He followed John off to the restaurant, seeing by how the man walked just how upset he was by the joke. Maybe Sherlock should have added more sarcasm to his voice? At the restaurantthe two found the perfect spot to sit and eat. The place wasn't too busy but there was quite a few people around. John and Sherlock sat themselves across from the other.

"John, it was a joke you know." Holmes finally stated after a bit of silence. He didn't want John that angry at him, he didn't mean ill by it.

Relaxing down a bit, he shook his head. "I know... I know, it's silly that I got like that..." He muttered a bit lowly before peering a bit around the room. "I'm sorry. I still have a bit of a head ache from last night." Watson admit while squeezing the arch of his nose with two fingers.

He should definitely order some coffee while he was here. Bringing his gaze back to the other man, he could tell the other was still slightly set on the way John reacted, and finally rustled a hand through his hair as he leaned back in his seat.

"Have you ever gotten drunk before, Sherlock?" He asked in a way to start conversation.

"No never. Why would I want to become intoxicated? What do you get out of that John?" Sherlock asked, resting his head on his hand and peering at the other. "I do not wish to act idiotic and become utterly hopeless while the alcohol effects my mobil skills. No offense of course."

He had already seen John drunk on many occasions, so much so that it was enough for the two of them. Though. . the lasttime was really. . .interesting.

"Do you hope to get me drunk one day in order to see if I could make a fool of myself? I'm sorry to disappoint you John but I do not think that would happen."

"It would certainly be a sight to see." He stated more to himself.

Of course this man doesn't drink, what was Watson thinking? Ah, but he himself has been drunk enough times for this other to make fun of him for weeks on end. Luckily, Sherlock doesn't seem to be that type.

"You don't have to be drunk, you know." The blond suddenly pointed out. "Some times a nice cup is good enough to mellow out the mind... it helps a lot with relaxing." He stated, trying to justify the positive sides of alcohol as well. "In any case, I'm not surprised you haven't gotten drunk. I feel like you would just run the streets naked with that damn sheet you walk around with some times." He stated, shaking his head.

Honestly, those days are so awkward when Sherlock doesn't want to get dressed. What is the reason!

"Yes I possibly would." He stated with a simple shrug. "But. . alright John, I will try one cup one of these days. Perhaps it will be better than my patches." He said referring to his only comfort without having to smoke.

Unlike smoking, drinking alcohol was something possible to do in London. Though it was a low possibility. Nicotine was just so much more smooth. He sighed lightly at the thoughtof his cigs. He missed them so.

"But just one John. I do want to be functioning after all."

"Alright. Then why not go get a drink after this?" He suddenly asked. Watson was already surprised by the fact that this man actually agreed, so now he was curious if the alcohol would change Sherlock's mood at all. "Come on. It wouldn't hurt... plus, it looks like you kind of need it. Your poor mind never gets a chance to relax a bit." He pointed out as he sipped a cup of tea he had ordered.

His eyes observed the man for a moment before looking back down to the table. For some reason, he feels as though Sherlock was hiding some information about last night. It was just something he sensed from deep within the other's eyes... but tried to think that he really was just paranoid. It wasn't any different from any other time he got a bit intoxicated.

The brunette nodded, hoping he wouldn't regret this. Ah but it would just be one drink. How bad could one drink do to someone who has never drank before? Surely it wouldn't be that big of a thing.

Well, Sherlock was in for a big surprise as he sat with Watson within his favorite bar. Holmes stared down at his cup, seeing the liquid swish around as he swayed the cup back and forth. It smelled fowl,reminded him of how John smells when he comes home. He glanced between the glass and John; he was drinking his glass full already. Sherlock couldn't leave now and not do it, he already told John he would! He could just see how John was staring at him, Sherlock couldn't just. . .chicken out. That was NOT how Sherlock Holmes was.

He gulped a bit before taking one big gulp of scotch. It burned histhroat and made him cough a bit. "Bloody hell. . uugh." He coughed a bit more. "It feels like I'm drinking gasoline!" He exclaimed, not understanding how this was pleasant at all.

Watson couldn't help but to laugh at that comparison as he took another long sip of his own drink. "You'll get use to it after a few more sips... it really does make you feel better afterwards." The man promised as he eyed over to Sherlock.

It was interesting that at his age he had never really had alcohol before. It made Watson wonder if there was a lot of common things this brunette hasn't done. Setting his glass down for a moment, he felt his head ache start to disperse until it felt as though it was barely there.

"Ahhh... just drink up, buddy. No drop of that goes to waste." John laughed lightly as he patted Sherlock's back as a sort of encouragement.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes of course. . " Really this didn't seem like it could even get better.

He stared back to his cup, already less than half full. Maybe sips would be better than large gulps. So he tried that, sips. It wasn't so bad; sure he'd cough here and there but after a while he was alright with it. Eventually he finished his cup and placed it to the side. Really, he felt fine.This alcohol wasn't that big of a deal. It was quite easy and he really did feel a bit more relaxed. Maybe. . too relaxed, he wasn't sure yet.

His eyes closed lightly as he focused a bit, but it was kind of hard to. Sherlock. .felt a bit tipsy. He leaned forward, resting his head into his hand.

"Well it does relax me. . " He muttered simply, still undecided if he liked this or not.

"You see? And honestly, I think this will do you a bit of good." The doctor laughed as he leaned a bit on the bar as well. Of course it was going to be normal for Sherlock's tolerance to be a bit weak-since he never really had alcohol before-yet that was why Watson only planned on giving the man one glass and that was it. "I'll tell you right now, you seem a lot better all loosened up than being so uptight. It's not healthy when you're like that." He pointed out as he took another sip of his own drink.

"... How are you feeling?" Watson suddenly felt the need to ask, seeing that the man was a bit too quiet from what he normally was.

"Fine fine!" Sherlock said quickly picking up his head and looking at the other. "I think well enough to take another glass!" He stated grasping onto his glass and clapping it down onto the bar to get the bartender's attention. "Another cup~" The brunette stated with a smile.

The bartender nodded, placing another cup full within Sherlock's glass. Once full the brunette placed it to his lips andtook another swig.

"Utterly right John! Brilliant plan this was I have to say!" The usual calm and quiet detective stated with a smile on his face. "Now I really understand why you enjoy this! I really do~"

John was taken back by this others reaction. Ah, he didn't mean for this to happen. It was kind of creepy seeing this other so... preppy. Furrowing down his brows in a worried moment, he eyed down to the drink that the brunette was drinking a bit too quickly. This wasn't something he was expecting at all.

"Uhh... Sherlock. You might want to watch how much you drink, though... your body isn't useto drinking that much.." He stated as he put a hand on the detectives shoulder.

Watson had to admit, it was a bit amusing seeing the other like this though, and fought to not laugh. He couldn't encourage this other when it was his idea to only give this man ONE drink. "Come on Sherlock... maybe this is enough for tonight. Let's head back home." He offered with a light smile, hoping that would gethim.

"Go home with you! Oh John I didn't think you'd ever ask!" He said aloud causing for people around them to glance over with eyebrows rose.

Sherlock smiled like a dork and placed the glass down abruptly on the bar. "Of course I'd go home with you~" He teased, tapping his finger on the other's nose. "Come aloooonng Jooohhnn~" Sherlock slurred as he snatched his coat from his chair and walked towardthe door. Well. . as in walk, he basically swayed all over the place until he got to the door. It only took two drinks for Sherlock to become a interesting piece of work. . .just two drinks.

"Come onnnn Jooohhnn I'm waaiitinnng."

John couldn't help but to blush of slight embarrassment as he felt everyone's eyes on them. Sighing out, he grabbed his own coat, payed for the bill, then quickly headed towards the door. Without stopping to consult Sherlock, his hand quickly grabbed onto the brunette's arm before yanking him out the door.

They fast walked down the sidewalk as John sighed out loud. "I can't beliiiieevve you had two... I mean, it's honestly not THAT bad... but I told you to just have one." Of course, it was no surprise that Sherlock didn't listen. He had to hurry though, it would be awful for the public to know that Sherlock was out of his mind at the moment. Or that is... more out of his mind than usual. Plus, the man might blame him once he has a clear mind again.

Finally reaching their home, he opened the door before flinging Holmes onto the couch, and neared the coat rack to set his jacket. "Just stay there and take a nap or something." He suggested as he began to slip off his shoes as well.

"A nap! HAH, I am not some child!" He scoffed out, getting up from the couch and instead paced around the room. "I'm absolutely fine John! I AM!" He paused and stared at John. Sherlock then walked toward John and stopped before him. "Let us dance John! Come along let's dance." He grasped the other's hands and tugged at them, wanting to prance around the room with his flatmate.

"Come on John! Putmore effort!" Sherlock whined, as he was the one to pull Watson around. Why couldn't he just have a merry time with him? What was Sherlock doing wrong? He finally stopped trying to dance around and just stared at John.

"What is it John, what's wrong? Your face is all scrunched up!" He pressed his hands along the other's cheeks. "SMILE JOHN SMILE!" And he tried to stretch the other's lips into asmile.

Watson's expression remained unamused as he stared up at the taller man. This was bizarre, and was something that would probably scare anyone who may walk in on them! Finally, the man swat Sherlock's hand away so that his face was free.

"Alright, now that's enough of that! I told you to calm down, all of this parading about the house is unacceptable!" He stated, trying to be the bigger man. Plus,all of that swinging around was making him feel a bit sick. "Sit down and I'll make you a nice batch of tea if you want, or I'll get you some fresh nicotine patches... just... stay in one spot." John said sternly, placing his hand against the brunette's chest as he stared for a long moment up at the other.

Tea? He didn't want tea! He wanted to dance around.

"Oh come on Joooohhnn, you are such a stick in the mud." He teased before pulling away from the other and plopping himself down on the couch.

His body began to feel a bit heavy, and the good feel of alcohol was slowly passing. He was feeling a bit groggy. Sherlock leaned back against the couch chuckling to himself. His hand slowly moved up to his head, rubbing lightly to get rid of this dizzy spell.

"Jooohn where are you? Come sit with me already." He patted the seat next to him repeatedly trying to get John's attention.

The man sighed out as he watched the man from where he was standing. At least he wasn't dancing around anymore... but still, he could tell that Sherlock was still on a loopy train of thought.

Breathing out, he hesitated while glancing towards his room, then back to the intoxicated detective. "... Fine, fine. But just for a bit..." He stated as he started to near the couch, shaking his head. "As long as you're sitting down now."

John then took a seat next to Holme's before leaning back a bit to get comfortable. "You sure you don't want any tea to clear your head?" The man offered once more, just in case.

Once Watson sat himself down Sherlock leaned over and placed his head on the other's shoulder. "John. . .John, you are. . you are such a good chap." He began to say while reaching to pat the other on the chest. "Such and good ol' pal." The brunette mumbled.

His eyes were beginning to get a bit heavy and his words all the more slurred as his body was giving out to sleep. "You know. . you're goodlooking too. It's nice that you like my face as much as I like yours. . .yes. . yes." The patting on the other's chest slowly began to stop and instead his hand laid still.

"You smell. . .like nicotine John. . hmm." He took a deep breath before stumbling into sleep.

A light blush raised onto John's face as he remained sitting there. What did he mean... that he was good looking TOO? Ahhhhh, did he actually say something the other night after all?

Feeling his breath being held, he slowly exhaled as he looked the other way. "Damn.." He whispered before glancing down to look at Sherlock now falling fast asleep.

It wasn't as though he was ashamed that the man knew he admired his looks as well... it was just... he was a very clever man. Hopefully he believed that Watson was only for women and that was all...

Lightly placing a hand on the other's shoulder, he began to push him off and lay him down comfortably on the couch. The blond was slightly on top of Sherlock as he fixed a pillow to be under the man's head, and stopped for a moment to gaze upon the peaceful face. This all wasn't fair. He wasn't gay. He couldn't be. His sister was already gay, could his family really stand him too? Plus, the Watson name must go on as well. This was obviously some little phase he had to get over.

Standing up from the couch, he placed a blanket onto Sherlock as well before taking a few steps back. "Good night..." He muttered before heading off towards his room.

The next morning, Watson was busy writing on his blog about how Sherlock had solved another case the other day. The sound of a whistle was going off in the kitchen, and stopped writing to look over.

"Ah, the water must be boiled..." He muttered as he got up and went inside of the kitchen. Still Sherlock was sleeping on the couch, and knew the other wouldn't feel so great when he woke up... so took the liberty of preparing some coffee. Soon John came back into the living room with the mug in hand, and some advil as well.

"Sherlock... get up... it's almost noon." He announced, lightly kicking against the couch.

The sudden kick jolted Sherlock up. His eyes flashed open yet quickly closed again. The light of the room just made his head throb all the more.

"Yes, yes I hear you John. . .god." He slowly eased himself up.

Once he sat up properly he peered toward his friend. God everything just throbbed. His whole body felt heavy and sick. Was he hit by some car? No of course not. He already knew he drank morethan one glass last night. If two glasses could do this to him, he could just imagine how 3 or 4 would feel. His hands reached out and took the mug and advil.

"Thanks." He muttered before taking the pill along with a swig of coffee. "God that tastes awful." He mumbled, placing the cup onto the end table before laying back onto the couch for a moment.

"I am sorry John. . but I will never go out to the pub again. Now I know how you must feel every morning." He grasped the blanket and just covered all of his face. He felt like death.

John raised a brow at the man "Yes... well... I would like to say I don't get drunk every night... just so we're clear." He stated, seeing that this man was talking to him as though he did.

Honestly, he kind of wished Sherlock was still a bit carefree even when he woke up... although knew that was a very unlikely chance. Oh well. Staring down at the lump under the blanket, he furrowed down his brows slightly before heading back to the computer again. At least it's all over now, and hopefully he won't hear any sign of Sherlock complimenting him again. It's nice-obviously-but not welcomed. It would just make things confusing.

Taking a sip of his own cup of coffee, he began to type again while listening to the other mutter complaints behind him.

"You know... you'll only feel better once you get use to the light..." John stated as a tip.

"TO HELL WITH THE LIGHT." He suddenly blurted out.

Really the man was cranky. He knew that if anyone, John would be the one to know how to cure a hangover. He is after all the master of hangovers. Ok maybe not, but he's been through hangovers before.

Finally, Sherlock pulled the blanket off and sat up. He took the mug of coffee before standing up all the way. He was such a mess. Clothes allwrinkled up, hair in a curly tangle and his face just seemed so bleak. He looked to John seeing the man type away with ease. Seems like he didn't get drunk because of him. It was a high possibility that Sherlock probably said interesting things, a very high possibility.

"I do hope that I didn't say anything. . .interesting. Did I?" He had to ask.

Alright, he had to play this very cool. Which was simple, John was use to lying to Sherlock with certain things.

"Hm? Oh. Of course not. I mean, we all say funny things... but it wasn't anything to get your head wrapped around." He stated cooly as his fingers were still tattering against the keyboard.

John was just happy that this man fell asleep when he did, seeing that he could have sworn the brunette was kind of flirting with him. A light chill went down his arms at the thought. This man can't flirt, he can't do anything of the sort... it was just a simple fact. Sherlock wasn't human-enough to pull that sort of thing off. Or at least he didn't want to think that way.

"Mm-right yes, of course." He nodded, believing that John was possibly telling the truth. Either that or Sherlock did say something interesting and it was so awkward that John rather not say anything. Sherlock understood seeing that John did the same thing to him.

"Well at least you did not take advantage of me." He stated simply before walking off to take a shower.

Sherlock had hoped that itwouldn't be awkward around them. He never wanted to make John uncomfortable, so uncomfortable that he'd leave. No never would he want that to happen. It was just all better if the two of them didn't say anything about it.

The man stood in the shower, taking a long hot one.

John huffed at the man's statement before going back to the blog again. It was just stupid, he hated how this other would just say those things. Of course they were a joke, BUT STILL. It's a very risky joke to be saying to another man.

His head rested into his hand as he stared at the screen, re-reading his post before adding it. This was just ridiculous... when were they going to get some good case that could distract them from this awkward un-spoken problem?

Suddenly, John felt his phone vibrate and looked down at it. A text message...?

Pulling out the cell, he opened the message.

'What are you planning to do?' It read... which was strange.

His eyes squint at the smaller screen, seeing that the number was a blocked one. What on earth was this all about? What did he plan to do with ... what? Though it did start to bring back older thoughts he would think about late at night, about what he wanted to do outside of sharing a flat with someone. He obviously wanted some family, a home to himself, a job he could do by himself... yet it was practically impossible when he had such a health condition that practically begged for him to keep at what he was doing. If not, he would need that damn cane again.

Shaking his head, he exited out of the message... though perhaps he should show this to Sherlock? ... maybe? Then again, it could have just been a wrong number and John was thinking so much over nothing at all.

After an hour long shower, Sherlock finally came along with just a towel wrapped around his body. He walked along to the couch and sat himself down. He felt better, or at least as best as he could feel during a hangover. His head leaned back resting on the couch.

"Do we have any cases?" Sherlock asked, also feeling uneasy about not having something else to keep him busy.

Of course he would beuneasy anyway without a case, but he felt even more so now that his mind was usually filled with thoughts of John leaving because of being uncomfortable or that John had mixed emotions about him. Yes his whole head was just filled with John. It was getting a bit in the way of his already busy mind.

"No... we have nothing." He stated as he shut his phone and stuck it back inside of his pocket.

John began to stand from the desk and head off towards the kitchen, until noticing that the man had only a towel wrapped around him... again.

"You know, just because we live together... doesn't mean you need to strut around in the nude." He stated with an awkward blush and an aversion of the eyes.

Suddenly, he felt his phone vibrate again. Grabbing for it, he opened the message to read:

'Living with SH can't be apart of the plan forever, can it?'

Suddenly, Watson felt his heart stop in a faint panic. This blocked number... it wasn't a mistake. Staring at the screen a bit dumbfounded, he slowly responded with:

'Who is this?' before sending... yet forgot the number was blocked, and instantly failed at going through.

This was very odd... could this possibly be Sherlock's brother...? That Moriarty fellow...?

"I do not strut." He mumbled rolling his eyes at the other's accusation.

It wasn't like he did it on purpose. Oh no he was just waiting for his clothes to be ready by Mrs. Hudson. Sometimes she took the liberty to get his laundry and just iron it all for him...or was it that he was used to leaving his clothes around and she just got so annoyed with it that she decided to deal with it herself? Thesecond sounds more likely.

He lifted up his head when he heard John's foot steps stop inside the kitchen. Sherlock stared to see John staring at his phone.

"What's the matter?" He asked, lifting a brow. Did he get a bad text of some kind?

John snapped out of his thought once he heard Sherlock's question, and turned his head off in the man's direction.

"Oh... uhm..." He thought for a moment.

Should he... or shouldn't he tell Sherlock? There probably wasn't much harm in it, but also didn't want to act like some small message actually got to him. John was fine... if there actually was something bad about this, of course he would tell the detective.

"It's nothing... just messaging a girl is all." He lied as he filled his coffee mug again.

"How are you feeling?" The blond asked, directing the topic off of him and back onto the detective. "Want me to make some breakfast?"

"Not so much like death anymore. .so I suppose that's good." He waved his hand and leaned back his head. "Also breakfast sounds lovely, yes."

A girl, huh? John really knew how to get on the rebound. Well he usually was really good at finding new girls. Sherlock supposed that was nice, yet knew how the outcome would be. John never would pick a girl over his work. . .or over Sherlock. Ah well, heguessed he would have to be the one to see John come home utterly drunk again in a few weeks. Oh what fun that would be.

After breakfast, Sherlock left to see if his clothes were ready. He was feeling a bit drafty between his legs after all; a towel could only do so much.

John placed his dishes into the sink, feeling nice and full as he began to enter back within the living room again. What was he going to do... suppose the best thing to do was just ignore whoever was trying to get into contact with him.

Just as he was thinking over that to be the solution, his cellphone began to ring this time.

"... oh hell." He muttered before pulling the phone out, and seeing that the caller was a blocked number. Surprise, surprise.

"Hello?" John answered, not sure what to expect from the other line. "Listen, I don't know who this is... but you better stop with these damn messages." He continued on, but once the line remained silent, became a bit uneasy. "H-Hello...?" He called out again.

"There's a taxi out front. I'm going to require that you get in it." A female voice announced.

"What? Who is this?... what makes you think I'm going to do that?"

"We have an excellent view of your tall friend... your flatmate, Mr. Holmes. As much as I would love to see that beautiful face alive, that can easily change."

John remained quiet for a moment until looking out the window, and only saw the cab down below... and nothing more. What was all this about?

"Well...? Are you coming down, John?" The voice asked in a sensual way.

He hesitated for a moment, but knew he really had no choice. Hanging up the phone, he sighed out before grabbing for his coat. "I'm going out, don't wait up." He shouted over to Sherlock before heading outside, and stepping into the cab.

Sherlock blinked when he heard the other's voice.

"Was that John?" He asked Mrs. Hudson as he was putting on his clothes in her restroom.

"Ah, yes I think it was. Going to see a nice girl again, hmm?"

The brunette walked out, straightening the collar of his shirt. "Yes perhaps. . ." He mumbled. He then said his goodbyes and thank yous to Mrs. Hudson before leaving back up to his flat.

John reallyleft in a hurry. . .now what could Sherlock do? He sighed and plopped himself down the couch.

Maybe another day of focusing on his thoughts was in order. Now where was his nicotine patches.

John wasn't sure where it was he was going. The man was sitting alone in the backseat while the driver said no word to him at all. Now... THIS was giving him an awfully bad vibe.

Secretly pulling out his phone, John began to make a message for Sherlock. The phone was hidden behind his leg, and tried not to look down at it too much... seeing that the driver would look back at him from the rearview mirror periodically.

'I might be in danger, I don't know where I'm going. I'll try and escape if need be, but try your hardest to find me if I don't return tomorrow morning. -JW' He wrote before sending the message to Sherlock.

As though clicking the 'send' button shocked the driver, he suddenly hit the brakes at a red light sternly. Turning back to face Watson, it was obvious that he had a cloth in one hand... probably soaked in chloroform. Feeling his heart pound, he got into a defensive position with his hands.

The driver lunged into the back seat and overpowered John, seeing that the blond underestimated this man's physical strength. He kicked and punched against the cabby driver, but soon felt that cloth pressed tightly against his face. John held his breath for as long as he could, but soon gasped for air and took in much of the scent.

After that, everything got hazy until suddenly he blacked out completely.

Sherlock's thoughts were suddenly interrupted by his cellphone going off over on the mantle of the fireplace.

"John, phone." He stated allowed like usual.

After a moment though, he remembered John had gone out. He groaned as he got up from his comfortable spot to get his phone. Once opened the text was plain insight. Sherlock stared at it long and hard.

"In danger?"

Had John not left to see awoman like he had assumed? He then paused and realized how John acted when he was caught staring at his phone. So it really was not a woman at all, but something suspicious.

"John. . .why didn't you just tell me." The man murmured to himself before turning to get his coat.

John woke up to find himself laying on a bed. It was strange though... because this wasn't his room...

Suddenly, he remembered what situation he got into and blinked. "Shit." He muttered before trying to sit up, though noticed that his hands couldn't move. Glancing over, he saw that his hands were handcuffed to the headrest of the bed.

"W-what is this all about?" He asked uneasily.

A laugh broke from the foot of the bed, bringing the blonde's attention to now go there. A beautiful woman with long brunette hair stood there, wearing what appeared to be a very thin silk gown around her body.

"Oh John... you're such a silly man."

The sight had the man blush, until sucking in a breath. "Do you mind explaining who you are, and what's going on?" He asked, trying not to admire the woman by looking down at the sheets instead.

"You do not need my name." She stated, taking a seat at the edge. "But you should know that I'm a big fan of yours."

"A... fan...?" That was hard to believe, John doesn't get fans. It was all about Sherlock Holmes, the great detective. "I highly doubt that."

The woman laughed some more "Ahh, believe what you wish... but it's the truth. I absolutely love that cute face of yours. It's something that I could get use to for a very long time."

"I do hope you're not counting on trapping me here." Although strangely John felt flattered. But there was no way this was true. Right?

"Ahh, no. I plan to capture you in a bigger trap than that. I've been watching you, John Watson, and I have come to notice that your life isn't going exactly the way your mind wishes. You want someone. You want a woman, you want a life with little feet pattering across a home that has acres of land surrounding it." She stated with a gentle smile, loving the scene as well. "So... why not have that life with me? I want you, John. I've been wanting you since you first came back from that dreadful war. I let you have your fun with those women. . . . yet now. . . I can tell somebigger threat is getting in the way of our happiness."

"The bloody hell are you talking about!" John asked, feeling as though his personal life was completely violated just by this woman's voice.

"This Sherlock Holmes... you like him, don't you? I can tell. I can read you so easily... and I don't like it. You like him differently than those girls... which I find is unacceptable. So... John..." She cooed, starting to crawl on the bed until he was suddenly on top of the man. "Will you do me the grace of being my husband...? We could be so happy together." She whispered in a seductive tone.

John gulped down a knot in his throat, though honestly found this ridiculous. "A-As much as... I feel flattered by your liking of me... I... don't know you... and to be frank... this isn't a way of approaching a man." He pointed out, finding this beautiful woman to be nothing but psycho.

"Oh... is it not...? Well... that hurts me, John." She pouted lightly. "That hurts me a lot... so much so... that I feel as though I need to get rid of this Sherlock once and for all... maybe without that option in mind, you'll have me more towards your liking." She smirked before pulling out her phone.

"No! No wait!" John suddenly panicked, having his arms try and pull free from his restraints. "Don't do that! Leave him out of this!"

"Too late~" She cooed once more, before hitting a send button on her phone. "I can't take a chance. Especially since you are rudely denying my offer."

Her hands then pressed against John's chest, setting the phone on the nightstand and leaned down to kiss against the blond's neck. "Now why don't we have some fun while that business is being handled?" She breathed.

John tried to ignored his physical attractions as he shut his eyes. No, damn, Sherlock was in trouble as well now. What was he to do! It was all his fault. All his DAMN fault! Through his panicing-though-he forgot who it was he was talking about. It was Sherlock Holmes.

Sherlock quickly ran out the door. He really didn't know where to start. Did John leave some kind of trail perhaps?

Yet as he walked the streets he felt himself being followed. He pretended like he didn't notice a couple of guys following at first. Sherlock quickly turned a corner down an alley way and found a good place to have the advantage.

Running steps belonging to the men could be heardas they went around that same corner and down the alley way looking for Sherlock. Once they were where the brunette wanted them, he launched his attack; throwing a quick punch to the face of one of the men and knocking him straight to the other.

Sherlock was absolutely quick on his feet, dodging an incoming attack from a third man. That man then received a knee blow to the gut. Sherlock may notbe so burly as them, but he knew exactly where to hit to do the most damage.

At the end he knocked all three men to the floor; each of them groaning in pain.

"Perfect." He stated as he pulled out a phone from one of the men.

Whoever sent these men probably should have told them to erase their texts. After calling the police, Sherlock left with the phone, scanning the messages and figuring exactly whereJohn was.

Sherlock stood in front of the home. He stared up, looking for a way to get inside. The man walked along the building, finally finding a window cracked open. With his climbing skills, he figured out how to climb up to the window. With just a little trouble he climbed within finding himself in a bathroom.

Sherlock prepared himself, guessing that maybe John would be at gun point andperhaps there would be even more men inside. He breathed out before opening the bathroom door and sneaking along the hallways.

Yet. . .he didn't find anyone, not one person. Not until he heard a voice coming from a certain room. A woman's voice? He tilted his head a bit, thinking if he knew the voice. But no, he didn't. A woman he could deal with.

Without much of a second thought he kicked downthe door.

John was still trapped on the bed, but had his eyes blindfolded and a rope between his teeth so that he wouldn't complain as much. Both him and the woman were stripped naked, and poor John had an unwanted erection... seeing that the woman slipped him a pill before putting that damn rope in his mouth.

The woman gazed off in the direction where Sherlock walked in, but seemed very unphased by it. Instead, she continued on with what she was doing... and started to pour a bit of hot-wax onto the blond's chest, having John flench and complain in pain that was muffled away. The woman laughed as she did, and nipped gently at the man's neck before asking:

"Have you ever heard of knocking, Mr. Homes?"

... Holmes? Sherlock? He was here! This has got to be the most worst timing Sherlock has ever had! His cheeks were shining a bright red now. . . yet did see the positive side in this. Now he can be saved by this absolute PSYCHOPATH of a woman!

Sherlock paused for a moment as he looked toward what was going on over on the bed.

John. . really was he in trouble? Sherlock wasn't sure if he should be here oooor. . .

"Yes well my friend here said danger and now I see why."

Though was John really into this kind of. . .thing or. . .He shook his head mentally. The man looked to the woman and stepped closer.

"Now if you excuse us, we must take ourleave. Perhaps John can call you another time and you two can sort things out." He grasped the woman by her shoulders and pulled her off John rather harshly. He then resumed to unbind the man and untie the blind fold. ". . You did. . want me to come for you. . .right?" He whispered to John as he was working on the knots.

Once John felt the rope leave his mouth, he barked out:

"OF COURSE I DID. Who in their right bloody mind would think this is okay! That woman over there is completely nuts! This is NOT OKAY, SHERLOCK. IT'S NOT OKAY." He continued to shout out, glaring once his blindfold was off too.

Suddenly his glaring stopped though, and looked behind the man. "Sherlock... you miiight... want to stop untying me." He suggested, seeing that the woman was now holding a handgun to Sherlock's head.

"You think I'm going to let you take my little hubby just like that? Well, think again detective." The woman grinned.

He paused at untying, hearing the click of the gun as the woman was prepared to shoot.

"Ah yes, of course, the gun." He muttered before slowly turning around to face the woman. "And hubby? Since when were you married, John?" The man asked, glancing back to the other.

He then looked down the barrel of the gun and sighed. "Well are you going to shoot or-?" Sherlock stared back at the woman, seeing herfinger twitch, ready to pull the trigger. Seeing how her mind set was, it was a high possibility that she would shoot. Yet she should have shot a long time ago.

"If you are going to shoot someone point blank. . ." He then moved his hand quickly and pushed the gun away. She of course shot, but up to the ceiling. "You shouldn't tell them and instead just shoot." He made sure to have herin a power grip and squeeze the gun away from her hand.

"John would you mind calling the police? And then getting dressed?"

The man rubbed his aching wrists as a blush was still very evident on his face.

"Yes... yes of course..." He muttered, grabbing for his clothes on the ground first.

This had to be one of the worst situations he's gotten into yet, and made it even worse by dragging Sherlock into it too. The scene was just so... awful, but tried to push it far into the back of his mind as he buckled up his pants, and grabbed for the phone.

Once dialing the cops and telling them the location, he set the phone down before looking over at the two again. Of course the woman was trying to escape, no matter how much more powerful Sherlock was... but still...

"Can I know your name now?" John suddenly asked. Sure it wasn't that big of a deal, but this strange stalker he never knew about kind of interested him. . . . not in a romance way, but just from simple curiosity. He never had a 'fan' before.

The woman struggled a bit more until giving up with a sigh. ". . . . you both. . . are going to make such a nice couple." She suddenly said, ignoring John's first question. "It's just a shame that you both are too stubborn to ever talk about your awkward little feelings... even now... I can tell Sherlock is a bit uneasy by how sweaty the palms of his hands are." She said with a smirk, looking up at the taller man. "Sure, you could be like that because I had a gun... though I highly doubt you really saw me as a threat of danger."

John couldn't believe what this woman was saying, and awkwardly looked the other way to grab for his shirt instead. "I'll... go wait out front for the police."

Sherlock watched as John left. He looked to the woman, seeing her smirk at her handy work.

"You're not really a fan of John are you?" He asked, seeing how she seemed triumphant at what she has done.

Wouldn't she have been more angrier at her foiled plan? Plus who would marry a woman like her after being captured? Seems illogical.

He then heard the police sirens come closer and closer toward thehouse.

"I do hope whatever you got out of this was worth it." He mumbled to her as he pulled her toward the door in order to hand her over to the police.

"By the way I can feel your beating pulse through your fingers, it was absolutely worth it." The woman smirked.

John had to hang around the cops for a few hours, answering questions and explaining that embarrassing story again and again. Once it finally seemed as though everything was well enough, he turned to Sherlock who was also getting done talking to an officer.

"... should we return back to the flat now?" He asked, which was the first time he had actually spoken to the brunette since he had walked out of the room due to the words that woman said. John could just feel his wrists throb with a bit of pain, and knew that his struggling was going to leave a probable bruise on them.

"Yes, I think that sounds perfect." He nodded in agreement, leaving with John back to the flat.

On the way there the two didn't talk at all. For Sherlock, he was deep in thought on that woman. Why would she go through all this trouble? She really infiltrated Sherlock's mind, especially what she had said last that really got him. During the whole drive he just stared out the window in thought.

Once at the flat, he paused at the door and turned to John.

"I believe that you shouldn't blog about this case. . .at all." He then turned back toward the stairs and went up to plop himself down on his usual chair.

Really, Sherlock was baffled and embarrassed about everything he had seen. He may have acted cool, calm, and collected... but really he was fighting back his embarrassment and flushed cheeks. Ofall things to happen today. Of. . .all things. . .

John wasn't as great when it came to being collective, and had rosy cheeks even as he stepped into their flat.

"What makes you think that I WANT to put this one in the blog?" He stated as he began to head towards the bathroom, planning on taking a longer shower instead.

His nerves were on edge though, and couldn't help but to feel paranoid by how silent the brunette was being for the most part. John was sure to scrub every bit of his body though, especially places that the woman touched. But she had a point. They both seemed to have feelings that neither would bring up... at all... but that's good, right? It should stay that way, right? Because, there's no WAY they would make a 'nice couple'. Plus, John wasn't gay. Never would be.

Placing his head against the tiled wall, he felt the hot water just hit his body while the steam would rise.

"Just ignore it John." He muttered to himself. "Sherlock won't even say anything."

Sherlock tried to just close it all off, everything, everything that he felt for John. He knew that he had these feelings, that he liked John a lot. He was different from everyone else. He had thought maybe that was good enough to be friends, but no. This was more than a friendship sort of feeling. He admired John so much more than all of that.

Sherlock shook his head, as if trying to toss that thoughtliterally out of his head. He even tried to change the thought, recite maybe some sonnets of Shakespeare, but no he couldn't. The thought was just simply on John. He didn't want to admit to himself that the woman was right, and yet he did. She was absolutely right. His hands were so clammy when he had held the woman because he had seen John fully unclothed. They were both men yes, but. . Johnwas different.

Sherlock stood up onto his chair and fiddled with his fingers. He knew the only way to clear his mind of these thoughts and focus on more important things would be to tell John. Tell him everything.

The door opened to the bathroom to have a bit of steam roll out. John walked out in a white t-shirt and some sweats, all while his hair was still damp all over.

"You might want to wait a bit if you're planning on taking a shower." He stated without another thought, and stepped into the living room to take a seat next to the fire blazing within the fireplace.

The man decided to sit indian styled as his hands were held out to get a feel for some of the heat. Ah, yes. That shower made him feel MUCH better. Glancing back, he couldn't help but to notice that Sherlock was still in a strange amount of thought.

"... did you hear what I said, Sherlock?" He questioned, raising a brow.

"Huh what yes, something about the shower. . .right." He muttered quickly and just went back to his thoughts.

Oh but it wasn't any easier when John was sitting RIGHT across from him. The man just had to sit there and just stare at him. He was probably wondering what Sherlock's mind was busy thinking about.

It's you, John. Sherlock said to himself before standing up and pacing around the room. Shouldhe say something or should he not? Sherlock had never liked anyone ever. Liking someone was foolish, it just jumbled all his thoughts.

"John." He suddenly stated, turning toward the other abruptly. "That girl was right about me having feelings for you." He simply blurted out, seeing there was no need to dance around it.

Those words had the man blink and stare off into the fire for a long few seconds.

What... what did he just say?

A frown soon appeared on John's face as he looked down to his fidgeting fingers within his lap. How could he just... say it so easily?

"Well... " The blond started, but had no idea what to fully say. "I... don't know what to say about that... I mean, you know I'm not like that." John reminded him, trying to act as though this was just a one-sided deal.

That wasn't truly the case, but could just feel his heart beat too fast at admitting the same thing. It was stupid. But it made John far too nervous.

It wasn't a surprise that John had said that. Sherlock already knew what John would say.

"I already know, John. I just wanted to let it off my chest." He then breathed out and sat himself back down in his seat. "It was consuming me, and I rather not have that. I expect no feelings in return." It sounded cold-yes-but it was true. John was set in his ways, he already said how straight he was.

Sherlock leaned his head back into the couch and closed his eyes. Now finally he could quiet his thoughts and sort out other things. It was a waste of emotion and time to dwell on the rejection.

John shyly stared over at the man, then back to the fire again. He felt a sense of guilt in his chest, and sense of regret. Why couldn't he just admit that he sort of liked Sherlock back? He felt like a fool always denying his thoughts, along when other people assume he feels that way.

The truth was, John liked Sherlock a lot... deep down he knew that was the truth, but still there was that fear of even attempting to admit it. It was always hard to tell whether more good or bad would come out of it.

"... I don't understand, Sherlock." He muttered lowly "You felt this way... and tell me just because of that woman? Is that how you like to play? Waiting until someone fully pushes you to do it?" He asked.

Sure, a second ago he was saying he could never feel the same... but that was sort of a reaction he became adapted to do whenever suggested of homosexual tendencies.

Sherlock opened one eye, but stayed staring at the ceiling.

"I only now admit this because it had been bothering me." He admitted. "I never wanted to admit it before because I never wanted for you to leave. Yes I liked you John, but you are also my . . . only friend, you know." He finally looked to John.

He looked as though he was contemplating what exactly to say. "Most people bore me John. . .you donot." His eyes stared at John long and hard. He squinted them a bit before looking away. "I never expected anything in return. You've already made it clear how you feel."

"Well now hold on." John suddenly stated, standing up from where he was sitting to see the other man much better.

"You're telling me that you, Sherlock Holmes, don't even have a suspicion that I could possibly be lying? You're just gonna take what you hear from me and that's it?" He questioned, not being able to believe that.

It was silly that he didn't admit this before because he didn't want the man to leave... clearly Sherlock didn't know as much about John as John would have thought. "You're making my respect for you die a bit..." He said with a cross of his arms. "Plus, that's pathetic. If you have that feeling, you can't just instantly accept it. At least not like THAT. Cry a bit, get all stupid and start writing me letters of your love, SOMETHING other than just sitting around trying to find the next best thing to think about..." It was obvious that in that moment, the blond really wasn't thinking before he spoke anymore.

"What kind of man just gives up that quickly?"

Sherlock blinked at the other. What was John saying?

Suddenly a smirk cracked along his lips as he eyed the other. "Is that. . what you want me to do John? Do you want me to profess my feelings to the world? Would you accept them then?" He couldn't help but to ask.

Sherlock knew that John had conflicting feelings, he knew that John would never admit that. The brunette had accepted that, but forJohn to say things like this...?

"Or maybe you'd prefer me to be like that woman and force my feelings upon you?" He leaned against his hand and stared at the frustrated Watson. "Really John, what do you want me to do? I thought maybe you'd be happy if I never brought it up."

"That's stupid! Completely idiotic! I-!... I... Oh god, I don't know what I want." He admit with a large sigh, thinking that he was coming off possibly as crazy. "I don't want you to do any of those things... I was just... trying to make a point." John said as his hand scratched the back of his head nervously.

Why was Sherlock smirking like that all of a sudden? This wasn't something to get all amused about!

"To be quite frank, I don't even know what my sexual orientation is anymore... this whole day has been completely crazy and confusing... and ... I just... don't know how I should be feeling at the moment." The blond finally admit in defeat, looking at Sherlock with those large and sad puppy eyes that naturally formed when troubled.

The smirk faded as John looked at him with those eyes. He was really lost.

"This is why I have never considered myself in any sexual orientation."

Sure John had always assumed Sherlock was gay, but the truth was Sherlock was never really. John was the only person he ever found any interest in.

He got up from his chair and made his away toward the other. "John. . .just admit that you like me, truthfully like me. Maybe then it'll stop infesting your mind." He stated.

It had helped him, it made him feel at ease. Maybe it would make John feel at ease too. And yet. . .Sherlock didn't know how he'd feel to hear John say it completely without a doubt. How would that even sound?

He would very much like that Sherlock wasn't constantly on his mind, so maybe saying it out loud would relieve a lot of the stress and confusion. Though even thinking about saying it made his chest feel a bit strange, as though he would fully mean it. That's not exactly what he wanted, but at the same time, it should be done. Sherlock did it and everything seemed alright... surly there wouldn't be much harm for John as well.

"Alright..." He nodded, clearing his throat with a nervous gulp before continuing "Sherlock... I have feelings for you too... I think that I... like you much more than as some flatmate or than as a friend." When those words left him, he felt his body grow a bit warm with slight embarrassment, but also because he knew that it was the truth.

Sherlock stared back, frozen. Once he heard John say it, his own heart skipped a beat. It was different to hear from someone else. He had thought it would have been simple; John would say it and it wouldn't be that big of a deal. Yet, how he said it made Sherlock choke up a bit. Sherlock could just see how John was embarrassed, how red his cheeks grew and how his eyes looked the other way aftersaying it. He never thought himself to be bewildered by this. The brunette couldn't even help grasping the other's face and pulling him into a sudden kiss.

The kiss took John off guard, and tensed up at first. Never would he have predicted that the brunette would have done something like this. Wasn't he suppose to say it and that be that? Ah, but even Sherlock knew that this was more than just some phase the both of them were going through.

Raising his hands up, the blond lightly grasped onto the man's arms and squeezed out of nervousness; yet there was no resistance. The man's eyes actually closed after a moment, and kissed Sherlock back by pressing forward a bit more. Never would he have thought this would be happening, but didn't exactly see it as a bad thing at all.

The brunette held the other close as he kissed him. He just couldn't handle how John had looked, and how even said how much he liked Holmes. It just made him feel. . .so special. That's something he never really had before.

Lightly he pulled away from the kiss and glanced the other way. "I'm sorry John. . .I don't know what came over me." He mumbled, furrowing his brows a bit.

No he knew exactlywhat came over him. He knew. . .just exactly what.

John looked away as well with furrowed brows, feeling just the same as Sherlock.

"No... no... it was me too... i-it's not just your fault, ha.. ha..." The man laughed uneasily, trying to make the tension die down some.

Though, John actually liked the kiss... before, he would have thought of it as strange, but something about it kind of felt right.

"S-Sherlock." John addressed, looking up to the taller man. "I'm curious... was that your first kiss?" He questioned, seeing as though this man never seemed like one who would do that to just anyone. "Because..." He continued on, reaching out to grab the brunette's hand. "It was a very nice first kiss." He complimented with a light smile, patting the hand.

John was trying to make Sherlock feel a bit better, since he was very new to anything like this.

Suddenly his cheeks grew red at the question. He coughed a bit before slowly nodding.

"Yes well. . .thank you for thinking it was nice." It was nice at least that he shared his first kiss with someone he admired.

It was still a surprise to himself that he just kissed the other. He really wasn't even thinking to do it. . .it just happened.

"John. . .what is our relationship now?" The brunette asked,looking back to the shorter man.

He wasn't sure if they were no longer friends or in a relationship. Really Sherlock had no clue, he never really shared feelings with someone before. How did it usually work for other people that like each other?

"Ah... hm." The blond thought for a moment.

It was a bit funny how Sherlock was waiting for John to answer a question for a change, instead of having it the other way around.

Pulling his own hands back, his eyes averted away for a moment. "Well... clearly we aren't friends after pulling a stunt like that... but saying we're together is really a big step that hasn't been eased in... so I suppose for now we should just... maybe go out on a date some time, or simply learn more about each other... that's what normally happens, anyways." John stated, finding this step to be easy.

They already lived together, and Sherlock knew much about John just by staring at him.

"This does mean that you would have to open up to me a bit more, Sherlock." He suddenly pointed out before walking off to tidy up the living room. The man had hardly noticed how late it had become.

The brunette stared off, blinking here and there.

Open up? What would he even open up about?

He would never think John would be interested in trivial things like dating and sharing feelings. Though, as he glanced toward John-who was cleaning up around-he knew that he'd at least try to go through these trivial things for him. He didn't just want to flat out give it all up just becausehe didn't want to share things. That just wasn't right, after all.

"Yes of course. . .dating, that we can do. Of course work is first, John." He reminded.

Sherlock of course was interested on where their relationship would go, but he also thought of how work would be different now.

John sat across from Sherlock at a restaurant a few blocks away. This wasn't the first time they've gone out on a date like this now, this is actually date number 3. It was strange, because whenever people would assume they were a couple... John couldn't just deny it like he did before.

The first two dates were interesting. Sherlock always seemed so lost on what to talk about without being a complete smart-ass about everything. Still, it was nice in its own weird way. Though, for some reason it kind of felt the same as it would even if they weren't on a date. That may have been both of their faults, though.

John was nervous... almost like a girl, and wasn't use to being in that position. He could just IMAGINE how Sherlock must feel... especially when he hadn't been on a date at all before.

Fidgeting with his glass of water, he eyed up to Sherlock with a light smile.

"You know... if it's still raining when we get outside... we won't need to have showers later tonight." He joked lightly, seeing as though it was pouring at that very moment from what he could see out of the window beside them.

"Yes well the rain isn't as clean as that of the water from the shower, since-. . ." Sherlock cut himself off, seeing now that John was just trying to make a sort of joke.

There he went again, trying to seem all smart and prove John wrong. He shook his head and smiled light toward the other.

"No no, but you're right, we won't have to bathe."

God he was horrible. So very horrible at dates, at evenhaving idle talk. He sighed out and leaned against his hand.

"I'm sorry John, I really am terrible with these. . .dates." They were something Sherlock had always avoided. He never found any interest in them. Yet, he didn't want to disappoint John. He knew more about dating than Sherlock ever knew.

"No, no, it's perfectly alright." The man assured, though did know that this wasn't working out all that well.

Sherlock wasn't like many other people... but he wasn't sure what exactly could substitute dating.

"Tell me Sherlock, what is it that YOU want to do right this second?" He asked curiously, seeing that he couldn't go based off of his own dating experiences. Besides, look at where that left him... Every girl dumped him.

Ruffling his hair to clear that thought, his head tilted a bit. "Seriously. We can just leave this place right now and do the very first thing that pops into your head. Just name it."

The first thing that came to his mind? What did he want to do?

Well truthfully, he wanted to solve some complex case, but that was not at all romantic. It was also was not something they could do at the moment. He then eyed around the restaurant, seeing other couples around as well.

His eyes scanned them, taking note in how they looked at each other, what they were saying. He then looked to John. Hishands reached out and grasped the other's.

"John. . .I do want to leave this place and I want to go to bed with you." Sherlock stated bluntly.

He had took the idea of the neighboring couple who mouth to each other how badly they wanted to devour one another. Of course Sherlock couldn't say something like that, knowing full well that John would have got up and left abruptly so Sherlock said thenext best thing.

The man blinked at that phrase, and stared down at their hands before looking back up to the man again.

"You want... to go to bed with me?" He repeated, not sure if he heard the man right.

Seeing as though it was Sherlock, he wasn't positive if this was meant to be literal or have a second meaning. So-to be safe-went with his first thought.

"You want to go to bed... right now?" He questioned "It's barely past six..." John pointed out, getting a slight blush... because the more Sherlock stared after that, the more be began to understand he meant the OTHER going to bed.

"A-And! And it's uhhhhhhhh, still pretty bright outside too!" He pointed out, purposely playing stupid now.

It wasn't as though John had a problem with that... it was just... being with a man was something entirely new... what if he was the bottom? He would be the woman. How was it like being the woman? Ahhhhh, he could just feel his cheeks burn hotter at the thought.

Ah John was getting uncomfortable at the thought. Maybe that wasn't a good choice. He probably should have brought up a game of chess or perhaps a show? Yet. . .they had been together for a while. Sure they have only been 'dating' for a few weeks, but technically they've been together so much longer than that.

"You did ask." He reminded the other with a light smile.

Sherlock was probably morenervous than John was. He, after all, was a virgin. Really he never had time to ever think of such trivial things, but it had to happen sometime if he was going to go out with John.

The man DID have a point... he asked.

John fidgeted a bit more in his seat, but knew it was something that was going to come up either way. Nervously biting his lip, he eyed over towards the server that was clear across the room, then back at Sherlock again. A crooked smile suddenly appeared on his face.

Okay... he had to admit, this was something he was kind of anticipating to happen... and was glad there wasn't too much beating around the bush. The brunette seemed to be on the same track of mind as John.

"... Alright, might as well get out of here then." he stated, placing his napkin down on the table and standing to his feet.

The other nodded, getting up himself. After everything was paid for the two left for the flat. Sherlock held up the umbrella for the both of them as they made their way there. Really he was anxious. How would it be, having sex with someone? He never understood all the excitement about it. Mycroft would tease him about being a virgin, he supposed after this night he would tease no longer.

The thought brought a smile to his face.

Once they had reached their flat, John began to remove his damp coat and set it on the couch to dry off.

"Geez, raining like this in the summer time really brings a nasty storm with it." He commented while removing his wet boots as well.

Eyeing over towards Sherlock, he could tell that this man could careless about the weather right now. His brows raised a bit which brought a few wrinkles upon his forehead, and smiled lightly at the other man.

"Well... Sherlock..." John started, nearing back towards him. "Would you like to go to bed now?" He questioned, teasing a bit by how this man used that phrase before.

Sherlock slipped off his own coat and hung it up as he stared toward John.

"Ah. . .well yes." He nodded lightly.

As he followed behind John he felt himself more and more anxious. Once he walked into John's flat and looked around, he realized he never actually had been in the other's room before.

"Do you suppose Mrs. Hudson would hear anything?" The man had to ask, wondering if the old woman wasaround the flat.

Id she was. . .it would probably be a bit awkward for her.

He then strolled along and sat on John's bed. Sherlock noted that his bed was actually very comfortable, more so than his own.

"Your bed feels quite nice, John." The man stated as he began to unbutton his own shirt, one button at a time.

"That's because I change my mattress when it gets too worn out, unlike someone else." He stated before turning around.

The man couldn't help but to find his gaze trapped on the man's shirt, seeing each revealed piece of Sherlock's torso... not as though he hadn't seen this other almost naked before, but the anticipation with this was very different.

"... let's just try to keep quiet, and she won't know a thing." He muttered a bit lowly, referring back to the brunette's first concern.

Slowly John sat next to Sherlock on the bed, feeling slightly awkward... at this moment, he would already be on top while helping the woman undress... but had to remember, not only was Sherlock NOT a woman, but he was still a virgin. He had to go a bit more slowly with everything. So, he also began to unbutton his shirt. Once he got to the 5th button though, he knew it wouldn't work like this.

Instead, John left the shirt slightly open before reaching over to have his hand cup the brunette's chin. Having the man face his way, the blond pressed his lips against Sherlock's deeply, just feeling the blush crawl as he did.

After just a moment though, his tongue started to slip past the man's lips and began a light and playful make-out.

Sherlock was caught off guard by this sudden gesture. He was just a few buttons away from fully getting his shirt off when John had interrupt him. Really the two had kissed again since that one first kiss, but Sherlock clearly remembered it was nothing like this one. This kiss was filled with heat and passion. Was John sexually frustrated?

Sherlock smirked at the thought. He leaned forward,kissing the other back with his own tongue. John of course was the one with more experience so Sherlock followed his lead.

Eventually though, he pushed John forward, making the both of them collapse onto the bed and into a tangled mess.

The feel of the brunette on top of John couldn't help but to excite the man as he kissed even more hungrily into the man. His hands wrapped around Sherlock's neck, one grabbing a bit at the other's curly mess. The heat from their bodies radiated off of each other while he felt the other's bit of skin on his own.

Lowering one hand slowly down Sherlock's well-toned chest, he felt against the muscles before reaching one of the last buttons at the bottom. Undoing the few that remained, he then slid off the man's shirt while rubbing his hands now up the other's shoulders, getting a feel for this other all over.

It was true, John was sexually frustrated... but he was going to use that to his advantage if anything.

For the first time, Sherlock's thoughts had dispersed. His mind was too fogged up by heat, all he was focusing on was how badly he wanted John. His own hands found their way to John's buttons. His fingers fidgeted as they undid every button. Once that last button was gone he let John pull it away.

Their bare chests pressed against each other, but that wasn't enough. Sherlock pulled away from Johnfor a moment to breathe. He leaned a bit up, looking down at John. The blonde really did seem like he could just devour Sherlock.

He raised a brow at that thought.

John panted out to catch his breath as he stared up at the man as well, but became slightly uneasy by the other's stare.

Why was he looking at him like that?

Propping himself up and onto his elbows, he began to kiss against Sherlock's broad neck, biting a bit at the collarbone, anything to have this other back on top of him again. Yet when this man was still where he was, finally pulled away from the brunette to look up yet again.

"W-what...? Hah... is something... the matter?" John questioned, though honestly didn't really want to talk something out at the moment.

"Ah. . .heh well. . ." He leaned back down, resting his forehead against John's. "You really. . .mm seem. . .to want me, John."

He really didn't think that the blonde would just ache to have him. For him he too ached, even more so in his pants. They just felt so tight, especially when John's knee would sometime brush against his groin.

Sherlock leaned forward once again to catch John's lips andhave another tongue wrestle. He really could get used to a kiss like this.

John kissed back even more, pressing his body fully against the man. His pants were getting a bit uncomfortable as well, but ignored it as they kissed in the same heated passion as before. The man couldn't help but to grind his body a bit against the man, and to grab hold of his shoulders tightly. It was strange, the man had no idea that he actually wanted this other so much. He could just feel the other's hard-on from his pants and brought a hand down there to rub his palm against it lightly.

As he did, he broke the kiss slowly just to have his teeth nibble slightly on Sherlock's bottom lip. His breaths were heavy, and once he released that lip he attached Sherlock's neck instead. He would kiss and nip a bit at it, anything that he knew would make this man get over the making out and want the next course.

Oh the agony that was between his groin. John was doing all of this on purpose. He would have thought the other to be gentle, but no, he was the polar opposite in bed. The brunette couldn't help but groan against John's ear, wishing more out of this. His lower region strived for attention. Sherlock was done with this teasing, he already wanted the main course.

"Damn it. . .John. . " He growled alongthe other's ears. "You are. . .just. . .playing around." He accused, clearly noting he was done with this foreplay.

He was absolutely ready to not be a virgin.

DAMN IT JOHN, YOU SLUT. is what I wanted to put. . XD}

John smirked a bit at that accusation, seeing as though it was true.

Pulling back from the man, he stared up at him with clouded eyes. "Mmmm... I was wondering when you'd have enough..." He stated before sitting up on the bed, and starting to unbuckle the belt to his pants.

"Come on then, Mr. Holmes... which position are you ready to take? Because at the moment... hah... you're sounding more and more like a woman." He stated, smirking wider as he finally slipped his belt from the loops of his jeans.

A woman? Sherlock? He didn't think he sounded like a woman. He began to sit up as well, unbuckling his own belt and zipping off his pants.

"But John. . ." He began to say a he leaned toward the other. "I'm taller than you." He stated with a bit of a smirk.

It was clear once his sat up straight and loomed over John that he would not at all be the one receiving. "I promise to be gentle." He stated beforeleaning in and kissing along the other's neck as his hands reached down to help the other take off his pants.

Aaahhh... fuck.

John felt his usual sexual flame slightly turn a bit shy once Sherlock made it clear that he wasn't the one to receive. A darker blush returned to his cheeks, and panted a bit more as he felt his pants being slipped off. So... technically speaking... they were both losing their virginity?

"Aha...hah... y-you... I-I... mmm.. y-you better k-keep your word... on that..." He tried to say sternly.

Once his pants hit the floor, he didn't know what to do. What was one SUPPOSE to do on the receiving side? He never really paid too much attention... Though the more the brunette was attached to his neck, the more he was still ever so turned on, and held onto the man's shoulders for a bit of support.

He was glad that John was seeing his way. Sherlock just had to try and figure everything out himself really, since John didn't even know a thing about sleeping with a man.

He leaned the other back flat onto the bed as he kept up with his licks and bite, just how John had did it before. His hands slid along John's body until reaching his briefs. He grasped onto them and took them off with one quickswoop.

The brunette quickly took his own off as well. Their cocks rubbed along side each other, each just as hard as the other. He groaned along the other's neck as he discovered this new feeling. He never even really masturbated, so this was even more new to him.

The brunette wasn't sure if he should lift up John's hips and enter or maybe he should. . .

He knew it would probably be painful if hedidn't some how stretched the other out. Lightly Sherlock pulled up John's hips. "This might hurt. . " He muttered along the other's ear. His finger then pressed against the other's hole until finally one whole finger was inside.

"Aha!" John suddenly cried out in a bit of alarm, not knowing that the other was going to do it so suddenly.

It felt strange... it didn't hurt much at all, but it was definitely something new. Blushing so much brighter, he couldn't help but to feel another urge of excitement trail through his body. Once that finger began to thrust was a different story, though.

The blond found himself moaning out at the alien feeling, finding it strangely pleasurable... although it was just once finger. His sounds were low, and were keeping most to himself as he would pant out more than before.

Sherlock tilted his head a bit, watching John's expression. He was relieved that the other was uncomfortable. The finger kept thrusting in and out until it felt like it needed another finger to stretch further.

Another finger was added to the mix and another after. Three fingers pumped into John over and over until it seemed that John could not stretch anymore. One last thrust and the fingers werepulled out then replaced with something slightly large; Sherlock's cock.

He groaned out as he felt the heat surround him, engulfing him in passion. Naturally he wanted to thrust, but Sherlock wanted John to be used to it first before moving.

"Does. . hah. . does it hurt?"

John couldn't help but to bite down on his hand, feeling as tears were forming a bit in his eyes.

Fuck... Sherlock felt larger than him.

It hurt as he felt the man within him, but knew that the only way to probably make it better was to let the man thrust. "Aha...ahh..g-go ahead..." He whimpered with shut eyes, trying to keep himself as relaxed as possible as the man began to slowly thrust.

It caused for John to moan out in heated breaths, feeling as his body became even hotter through the seconds. Damn, how could women like this? Sure he could sense the pleasure, but at the moment it was still the pain that was blocking the way of it.

The heat was just so extreme. Was it suppose to be this way? Sherlock just felt like he had a fever as he kept thrusting in and out of John. His hands squeezed the other's hips tightly. He felt like he could just melt into a puddle of water every time he moved.

Drops of sweat trailed all over his body and each harsh movement made his body work. It felt amazing for him, but he wondered about John.It was all new to him. Was he enjoying himself or was he just too in pain?

Really the brunette wanted to move faster, but bid his time instead. . .for John's sake.

After a bit of time, the pain was starting to disappear, and pleasure was taking more of an effect with each thrust. He could just feel as his member ached, and how the pleasure ran down his legs. The blond started to moan a bit more, a bit louder.

"Aha! Ahhh, Sherlock...mmmm." His head turned the other way, feeling his toes curl as the man continued to thrust. "Mmmmm, m-more... g-go... f-faster..." He begged as his hands were now clenching onto the bed from the feel of it all. "ahaa, Sherlock..." John called again, wanting this man so badly.

As the thrusts started to pick up, he could just feel as the bed rocked, and as the pleasure increased so much more. John moaned out as he stared up at the other man, clearly enjoying himself as well.

Sherlock did all that John wished. He grinded up against the blonde, deeper and faster. His own pants rose in speed as his body gave into the heat. Everything was like a blur to him. Their bodies became intertwined into once big hot mess. Sherlock now knew exactly what the big deal with sex was.

He gripped onto the sheets tightly as he felt himself reaching a limit. He knew that soon he'd be done,but the detective didn't want to stop yet. Sherlock wanted to last longer, do more.

He rested her forehead, against John's and murmured. "I'm. . .almost at my limit. . "

John gazed into the other's lustful eyes that matched his own, and nodded. He could feel himself nearing the edge as well, and muttered:

"What's stopping you...?"

The blond felt as the brunette thrusted into him even faster now, and suddenly grabbed onto his own member and began to stroke it. Their moans mixed together as their pants raised up, until finally John began to feel a warm sensation within himself, and moaned out even louder as he reached his own climax.

His cum was spread out among his stomach as his breaths tried to die down. It was just so pleasurable though... he could still feel as if he would even be ready for round two, but of course knew that to be physically impossible.

"Ah...hah... mmm... g-glad we did that."

"Hah. . .yes, me too. . " He nodded before pulling out of the other and collapsing on the other side of John.

His usual messy curls were damp with sweat, and he was utterly too tired to get up and dress so instead he laid there. "I hope it. . .was not too bad." He mumbled from the pillow his face was laying on.

Even though John couldn't see it, Sherlock was smiling against that pillow. He washappy that he went so far with John. Yet suddenly their time to reflect was interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Joooohn! Are you ok, deary? I heard some commotion from downstairs!" It was Mrs. Hudson, worried that something possibly happening to John.

Sherlock's head lifted and glanced from John to the door. A smirk came along his lips. "Shall I answer for you?" He asked in a whisper.

John's cheeks were glowing yet again, and whacked the man on the shoulder before getting a bright smile on his face. It was hard not to laugh about. Sadly, they both seemed to have forgotten all about the older woman that lived downstairs.

"Y-Yes Mrs. Hudson! Sorry... I've just been working out a bit. I didn't mean to cause any disturbance." He stated, trying to talk in an even tone as he was still catching his breath.

Once it seemed the older woman had bought it and walked away, John whacked Sherlock again in the shoulder while laughing out this time. "You ass hole, why didn't you remind me about her!"

Why did he blame him?

"Oh but I did~ Do you not remember? You said you would keep quiet, but instead. . .you were so loud, John." Sherlock stated simply.

It was a fact after all, he had said something before. Really, the brunette enjoyed this. He enjoyed joking around with John, being this close to him. He also might have found something more addicting than nicotine.

His arm reached out andgrasped around John's waste in order to pull him close.

"John. . ." He began to whisper along the other's ear. "I love you."

The words caused for John's heart to stop for a moment. It was almost unreal to hear those words form from Sherlock's lips, and honestly didn't expect to hear them as soon as he did... but was happy.

A smile spread on the man's face from ear to ear, and nuzzled into the brunette even closer than before. "Well... that's good..." He mumbled within the man's neck "Because I love you too, Sherlock."

It felt good to say those words, and it felt nice to actually mean it. This... might have actually been the first time he was sincere about it. Everything felt so right, even being with a male. His eyes shut blissfully, taking in the familiar scent that this other would always carry.

-End

~SILLY COMMENTS MADE DURING THE RP~:

-during the mentioning of Mrs. Hudson possibly hearing them make love-

ROFLMAO!)

OH DEAR. MRS. HUDSON. THAT LUCKY SON OF A B. D: )

She's all: -walls are shaking- ;O; O-Oh my! It seems we have an earthquake on our hands! I hope the boys are okay! -moans- ...o-oh...OHOHOOOOO. OH YEAAHHHHH. GO GET EM, TIGERS.)

LMAO. SHE WOULD BE LIKE THAT}

AHAHAHAHAH}

-during the entire sex scene-

WATSON IS A DIRTY WHORE.)

YES YES HE IS}

DAMN IT JOHN, YOU SLUT. is what I wanted to make Sherlock say. . XD}

AHAHAHAHAHHAA)

YOU SO SHOULD HAVE. WHAT ARE YOU? A WHORE?)

ME NO}

WHAT}

LMAO}

WAIT WHAT}

HAHAHAHA IS JOHN TRYING TO BE THE TOP?}

IT'S AN ATTEMPT.)

LET THE POOR WHORE DREAM.)

HAHAHAHAH OH GOSH POOR WHORE AND HIS LITTLE SLUT DREAM}

DOESN'T HE KNOW THAT THE ONLY THING HE'S GOOD AT IS BEING A SLUT? -shakes head-)

EXACTLY SHEESH}

YES JOHN, SHERLOCK IS TALLER.}

YEAH)

THAT'S LIKE... THE RULE OF ALL GAY SEX)

EXACTLY}

THE SHORTIES GET IT UP THE BOOTY}

YUP. THE LAWS OF PHYSICS DEMAND IT.)

EXACTLY}

IF YOU DON'T KEEP YOUR WORD, SHERLOCK.)

WATSON IS GONNA GET HIS PIMP)

AND HIS PIMP IS GONNA BACK HAND YOUR SORRY BEHIND.)

HAHAHAHA}

HIS PIMP}

WHO'S HIS PIMP?}

MORIARTY IS EVERYONE'S PIMP.)

EVEN YOUR'S.)

HAHAHAH SO TRUE}

OOOHH MAN HE IS SO MY PIMP. . SOOO MY PIMP}

LOLOLOL)

YES OF COURSE JIM I'LL LISTEN TO YOU}

PLEASE JIM NO DONT SLAP ME I LOVE YOU}

OK ANYWAY}

ROFLMAO! WOAH MAN WOAH.)

YEAH...)

UHM. MOVING ON FROM YOUR ABUSING STORIES ABOUT CHO' PIMP.)

HAHAHA}

-During the time Sherlock was fingering John-

WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT THAT YOU SLUT}

AHAHAHAHAHAHA!)

ROFLMAO!)

AHAHAHAHAHAHA)

I LOVE YOU)

I'M DYING)

YES LOVE ME}

LOVE MMMEEEE}

HAHAHA}

YEAH You better like that slut}

YEAH. Whore.)

Washed-up hoe-billy!)

FINGER WHORE.)

HE'S A FINGER WHORE.)

NOPE NOT A FINGER WHORE ANYMORE.}

A DICK WHORE.}

-GASP-)

NOW HE'S JUST A SLUT.)

AGAIN.)

SLUT.)

NAH HE'S LYING, HE LOVES IT}

HE JUST DOESNT WANT TO ADMIT IT CAUSE HE'S UPSET SHERLOCK IS BIGGER}

WHAT A KINKY BASTARD.)

LOLOL!)

AND A JEALOUS ONE AT THAT.)

SEME'S HAAAVVE TO BE BIGGER. IT'S-AGAIN-THE LAWS OF PHYSICS. )

EXACTLY}

MAN UP JOHN. .SHEESH}

YEAH, JOHN. YOU PANSY. )

YOU'RE A WHORE.)

WHORE'S ARE SUPPOSE TO BE LOSE.)

YOU'RE LIKE. THE OPPOSITE OF A WHORE.)

SUCH A PRUDE}