Author's Note: Hey guys! Like a lot of you, I just watched The Empty Hearse and was inspired to write this oneshot. Unfortunately it's pretty saddening, but I'm very happy with it. I hope you all like it. Also, my AU is coming along, don't worry :) Just slowly. (For those reading it)
Cheers to John and Mary! *tilts glass*
Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock.
Sherlock still didn't know how he had been convinced to do this. He was tucked away in a corner of the local pub, trying to avoid every single person that was here for John's Buck's Night. The room was thick with the stench of sweat and alcohol, and he was honestly finding it difficult to breathe with all of the people. And the noise. He could hardly think with the awful rock music blaring from overheard speakers and the barely supressed shouts of conversation. He truly wasn't sure how much longer he could stay here without going completely mental.
"Sherlock!" A very slur-voiced John called. "My best man! Thanks for coming!"
The detective could tell by the spilt alcohol on John's shirt and shoes that he was well and truly drunk. He had been drinking both Scotch and Lager all night. His blogger swayed slightly on the spot and grinned up at Sherlock, clapping a hand onto his shoulder whilst trying to keep his drink steady in his grip.
"Well I couldn't possibly let you down now that I'm in the wedding, could I?"
"Too bloody right, you sodding bastard. Are you having a good time?"
Sherlock forced a tight smile. "Absolutely. The time of my life."
"Oh come on, it's not that bad is it?"
Sherlock simply looked at him and John chuckled. He took the detective by the arm and led him through the sea of people in the bar, stopping when he had reached, surprisingly, an empty table with barely anyone surrounding it. John motioned for Sherlock to sit down and he did so, forming a steeple under his chin, trying desperately to block out the noise. He closed his eyes.
"Sherlock can I ask you something?"
He cracked an eyelid. "Yes."
"Are you happy that I'm getting married to Mary?"
"She's an incredible woman, John. You are both lucky to have each other."
"Yes but…" John looked Sherlock dead in the eye. "You don't seem happy about it."
Sherlock averted his gaze; suddenly the filthy ashtray on the table seemed absolutely fascinating. He didn't want to tell John on his Buck's Night that he was in love with him. He didn't want to confess that over the period of time he had been "dead" that he missed him more than anything. Mostly, Sherlock didn't want to have to break it to John that he wanted him to call off the wedding. Because Sherlock was jealous, and even though he was well aware a long time ago that the chances of John reciprocating the same feelings were ultimately slim, he did not want to share at all.
"You know my methods." Sherlock said nonchalantly. "I avoid displaying emotion. It isn't because I am unhappy about the situation."
John still seemed dubious. "Are you sure? Have I made the wrong decision or something? You not doubt deduced everything about Mary the moment you saw her. So you should be able to tell me if she's bad news."
"John, your wife to be is perfectly fine. Truly."
"Okay. I trust you." John blew out relieved sounding sigh. "Cheer up then, would you? I'm gonna go see Greg now. See you around."
Sherlock watched him go and could feel a sense of numbness spreading through his body. This was it. Tomorrow, John would wait at the end of the aisle, with Sherlock beside him and then marry Mary Morstan. He would witness the kiss that confirmed their matrimony and then just like that, all chances of John ever wanting Sherlock would be less than zero.
Feeling rather sullen about the whole thing, Sherlock decided he would leave the celebration. John probably wouldn't notice, after all he was incredibly intoxicated. He could easily slip out the back way and head back to Baker Street to sulk, as his brother would call it.
Slowly, so not to attract any attention, Sherlock slinked his way through the guests toward the toilet block where he knew there was an exit at the back of the building. Literally seconds after he stepped out of the door, he heard John's voice calling his name.
"Sherlock, hey! Where are you going?"
The detective had to think quickly. An idea popped into his head and he pretended to giggle uncontrollably, swaying and then leaning on the wall for support. He would tell John he had too much to drink and needed to go home. It's not like he had been watching Sherlock's intake all night. At least he hoped not, considering he hadn't had a single drink.
John laughed with him. "Bit drunk, Mr Holmes? Never thought I'd see the day!"
Sherlock was relieved and then faked a hiccup. "Well it's your big day tomorrow, so we may as well get completely pissed!"
"I like this side of you! Much more fun!"
John grinned at him and then lost his footing, causing him to fall into Sherlock who immediately froze. He took hold of John's arms and steadied him, pushing him back slightly so to look him in the face. He looked quite attractive in that moment, his cheeks flushed from the alcohol and the moonlight shining on his face. Sherlock was pretty proud of himself for not kissing John right then and there to be quite frank.
"Sherlock, how come you've never had a relationship? Irene Adler surely doesn't count. And don't go on about it not being your area and all that rubbish."
He gulped, staring hard at John. "I guess… I have never found the right person. Or rather, somebody who reciprocated my feelings."
"What about Molly? She was mad for you."
"I know. But there was somebody else. There always has been."
John's face softened as if he seemed to have put the pieces together. He smiled sadly at Sherlock. But the detective couldn't take it anymore and selfishly took advantage of John's drunken state. He grasped his blogger's face in his hands and meshed their lips together before the shorter man could pull away. Surprisingly, John did not. He simply stood there and allowed for Sherlock to kiss him. He even kissed back.
Overtaken by desire, Sherlock pried John's mouth open with his tongue and just as he started to lick at his gums, John pulled away. He glared at Sherlock with clenched fists. Sherlock tried to kiss him again but was denied with quite a hard shove to the chest.
"John, I – "
"You utter prick. I'm getting married tomorrow and you decide now is a good time to announce your undying love for me? You're so bloody selfish!"
Sherlock reached for him. "Please. I know my timing is god awful, but this, you and me… It could be a thing."
"En. Gaged. Sherlock. Married. Tomorrow. Understand?" John was fuming.
"But nobody else would ever want me… Don't marry her. You don't have to."
John sighed. "One day you will find somebody. Somebody who is like you and appreciates you. I'm sorry, but I am not that person. I love Mary. Even if I did just bloody kiss you."
Sherlock glanced down at his feet. He couldn't believe he had been this stupid to think John would change his mind, especially the night before his wedding. All those voices in his head were right. He was an idiot. He would always be alone. Who could possibly want somebody like him? Nobody.
With a gruff cough, he forced out a chuckle. "I was only joking."
"… What?"
"Just a little joke. I don't really like you. It's your last night of freedom. I thought it would be amusing to play a prank on you."
John's mouth fell open. "You have to be joking. You kissed me. That didn't feel like a joke."
"It was." Sherlock shrugged, feigning a grin. "Sorry about that."
Abruptly he felt a searing pain in his jaw, and then the hard ground beneath him. John stood over him, shaking his hand and glowering. Sherlock gingerly touched the wound from John's punch and sighed. Idiot. Complete and utter idiot.
He got up. "John, I am sorry. I'll leave now."
"Yeah, good idea." John very nearly yelled. "And not a word of this to Mary, got it? She doesn't need to know, even if it was a joke."
Sherlock just nodded numbly and began to walk off into the darkness, knowing he would reach the road around the corner. He heard John call after him that he would see Sherlock at the wedding tomorrow, but didn't bother to look back or reply. He just kept walking, letting the shadows of the night swallow him.
He had never felt so alone.
But if John was happy, then so was Sherlock.
Author's Note: Wow, that was mean, wasn't it? Sorry, not sorry! :P
Please review. Hope you liked it!