Disclaimer: I still don't own Sherlock... *sobs in a corner*

Present (today)

John's eyes wandered from Sherlock to the sheet and back again.

He could hardly grasp the idea of him and Sherlock, actually...doing that. The whole thought left him feel unbearably confused. It all seemed so impossible and that especially for the man lying on top of him.

How could this have ever happened? For once Sherlock was the most asexual bastard he had ever come across and John was under no circumstances gay! Nope, this was all one single misunderstanding! It had to be!

But the problem was that even each and every one of these facts couldn't justify the evident love-marks all over Sherlock's skin or overshadow the fact that they were situated in John's bed, both naked and still half lying onto each other. And even if you were as daft as to ignore these evident facts, John's memory was still distressingly intact and he could mesmerise each single word and touch that had passed between them.

But he John Watson, ex-captain of the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers, was. Not. Gay!

It must have been the alcohol, yes, yes, that was the only possible explanation. There was no way that John could have done this willingly, god no. And although John remembered exactly what he had said before and how he reacted to every one of Sherlock's moves, he nonetheless desperately clung onto the hope of this. There was no other way to arrange any of this with his conscience.

John took another look at Sherlock's face and became witness of a weird transformation:

At first Sherlock looked victorious, with triumph written all over his face, but from one second to the other his face gave the impression of tearing apart, crumbling like pastry, when he saw the angry and denying face of John.

John's face softened a bit seeing the alteration, but hardened instantly when thinking about the deep shit he was currently in.

"Sherlock... why? What is this all, I don't understand! I am not gay, never! How could you seduce me into having sex? And that especially with you? I can't understand how anyone could ever..."

"I thought you ...you..." Sherlock said, backing off the bed and John's body rapidly.

"Now, let me speak for myself. I am the complete opposite of gay and have never had any kind of second thought about you." (If you squint really hard) "You must have taken advantage of the alcohol, there's nothing more to this. " John said whilst also standing up and positioning himself opposite of Sherlock, his facial expression mirroring a rollercoaster.

"But I lov..."

"Shhhh! No other word about this, we'll just stay friends, alright? Just like the old times. Nothing more and nothing less."

A heavy sigh left Sherlock's lips, who was feeling like a broken clock which batteries could not be replaced.

And at that moment Sherlock did something that was completely unexpected for both parties. If you'd ask him later he would either completely neglect it or tell you that it was the dumbest thing he could have ever done, especially after such a speech.

But people do what people do, particularly when they're sleepy or hung over.

"John Watson. I... I am in love with you! I have been for so long and now you just... Yesterday you told me that you did as well, how you can change so quic...?"

"But I am not, I don't, I"

"Now it is my time to speak, John. You have interrupted me enough by now. I love you, okay? Go deal with that and your other problems. How can one person be so, so cruel? Last night was so real and all the things you said to me, do you remember? Any of it? Nobody could make this all up, you were so... you seemed so honest, John. "

Both their minds were fuming with anger, at equal parts discontent with the situation. Sherlock still couldn't get it that he had really and ultimately said these final words. He was happy that he at last had gotten them out, but the other side of the coin was that John would most likely leave him now. For once and for all.

It's not like he had not seen this coming. He had always known it would come eventually. And living with someone as irritating as Sherlock couldn't be easy, he was painfully aware of it. But for the day to come so quickly? He at least had counted on another year or two, if not even more.

How dumb can one high functioning sociopath be? He had screwed everything up again now, hadn't he? If he was John he would probably qualify this as "a bit not good". Huh, a "bit" not good.

John looked up to Sherlock with a stark anger in his eyes but also some softness, which Sherlock couldn't make anything of.

"Sherlock, I don't love you, all right? I mean you are a dude, I couldn't, wouldn't ever date a man, it just seems so... strange. It is not right."

"So this is what I am to you then, strange? "

"No, I", John stuttered.

"You didn't mean it John? Hm? Well it's too late for that now. You are not even an inch better than the bullies were at school. "Hehe look at that faggot, yeah a right out creep isn't he? Weirdo! Freak! Just go ahead and give us the honour of killing yourself, everyone would be better off. ""

"Wait, you never talked about that! Sherlock, I really didn't... this was not my intention, at all! Believe me Sherlock. I am so, so sorry for the things they did to you, you must have been terrified. This is so wrong, I can't believe..."

"John, I don't need any of your feigned concern, just go." Sherlock said lamely, staring at the floor with heavy eyes.

"We have to talk about this, this is important, Sherlock. And no, my concern is not feigned in any way. What makes you think that? I care about you a whole deal, okay?"

"Just leave me!" Sherlock said, his voice rising slightly.

"No, Sherlock, I won't. This is fucking important, do you understand? Don't just tip-toe around everything. Why didn't you ever tell me before? Were you frightened? Scared?"

"LEAVE. ME. ALONE!" Sherlock shouted angrily now, with his full voice growing to the highest volume he could reach, leaving John startled.

John was humiliating him more right now than any of the bullies ever had. He was by no means capable of talking about this topic right now. And that especially not to a man who had only minutes ago told him he would and could never ever love him, not even if he was the last man walking on earth.

Sherlock exhaled sharply, a dull and tired glint in his eyes. It was the face of a man who was giving up. He situated himself swiftly on the edge of his bed, crossed legs and neutral expression in place.

Holmes tried his best not to look worn out, but sometimes even the master of disguise can fail.

"It would do us both good if you were to leave me now John, you are not essential to me anymore." he said in a whisper, which was straight out a lie. John would always be essential to him. But this situation was too much to handle and his mind craved for some peace and quiet. Next destination: mind palace. His eyes fell shut.

"Sherlock? Sherlock Holmes look at me! Sherlock? Sherlock, are you even listening? Sherlock!?"

Author's notes:I know my profile says I will update this story every weekend and on weekends only, but hey! I'm ill at the moment, so I can do whatever damn-well pleases me. :D

This story is right now going into a way other direction than I actually intended, with way more tension. I hope you like it either way.

And yes, John's pretty much a prat in the whole story. I just noticed that John is always the goodie-goodie in almost every fanfic and Sherlock always comes across as the idiot, who does everything wrong and spoils John's happiness and stuff. Rebellion!

Please R&R as always and I hope you had a great time.

Adios -cream-tea-with-a-madman :)