AN: Hey guys, sorry it's taken so long. Can I just say... Nobody seems to realise how important reviews are to me... So I'd like to give a huge thank you to Larahna Steadyblade x Without that one review, I probably would have given up on this story... Seriously, thank you so so so much xxxx
the suspense is over temporarily, hope you like it x
Man Gone Mad(1) - Part 2
"Ok! It's karaoke night tonight! Can we get some volunteers?" shouted the announcer, and John could swear he heard him add a "this time…" on the end. Apparently karaoke wasn't very popular, and it probably wouldn't be tonight eith- Oh no. NO! John's stomach flipped as he saw Sherlock get up onto the stage. Despite his obvious lack of skill with holding alcohol, and therefore his extreme drunkenness, Sherlock was still as graceful as ever, and John was staring again, jealous of his agility. He dropped his head into his hands as several women cheered for him. The effect that shirt had on people was shocking… Especially with the two topmost buttons undone.
John grimaced when the random song selector (so that was why nobody volunteered…) gave Sherlock "Love Story" by Taylor Swift. Greg was trying, and failing, to stifle his laughter at the sight. He looked so sober, but he and John both knew he really wasn't. John wondered for a moment if Sherlock would remember any of this in the morning. He hoped for his own sake he wouldn't.
After several different songs, including "I kissed a girl", "Girls just wanna have fun", "Shake it out", "Total Eclipse of the heart", "In the Air Tonight", "Satisfied" and "Cupid's got a shotgun", Sherlock finally came down from the stage. John breathed a sigh of relief. Sherlock may be an amazing singer, but the more he sang, the more he was likely to remember, and the more likely it was he'd kill John. But then, it got worse.
People gathered around the bar, begging Sherlock for another song.
"Please!"
"Come on! Just one more!"
"Leave him alone." Greg commanded desperately, putting on his D.I. voice.
"No! WE WANT MORE!"
Sherlock smiled.
"One more then!" he shouted, to a rousing cheer. John turned to the bartender.
"Aren't you going to do anything?"
"No! This is great for business!" the bartender grinned. John face-palmed as Sherlock clambered onto the stage again, still as graceful as ever.
"Give 'im a slow one!" cried a guy in the crowd.
"Alright, alright!" said the announcer with a smile. He pressed the button, and "A Thousand Years" by Christina Perri came on. As Sherlock sang, even John sank into the dream-like stupor of the other pub-goers. Some people began to cry with the beauty of how the song poured from Sherlock's lips.
As he came up to the chorus, Sherlock's blue-grey eyes swept the room, as if searching for a recipient to the song. When his eyes landed on John's, John felt a leap in his chest and a flush on his face. Greg looked at him.
"I have died everyday waiting for you." Sherlock sang. John felt a tear well up in his eyes at the sheer emotion in the line. Sherlock was being emotional. Sure, he was drunk, but it was still emotion…
"Darling don't be afraid…" The way his voice caressed the words, as though they were delicate flowers…
"…I have loved you for a thousand years." A tear slid down John's cheek. Sherlock's face was so serious. There wasn't even a hint of mockery or fun in it. The emotion was raw on his face as he sang, and John's heart nearly broke at the depth of his eyes. Even from across the room, John could see the sincerity. But Sherlock was drunk. He was off his head. This was the opposite of Sherlock… And that was what made John's heart break so much. Because…
"I'll love you for a thousand more…" He'd never mean it. As the song went on, John felt tears roll from his eyes like waterfalls, and he felt them stain his shirt as he cried. Sherlock's eyes stayed glued to John's. As Sherlock came to the end of the song, John couldn't take it any longer.
"I need some air…" he told Greg, without looking at him, and he finally tore his eyes away from Sherlock's, fresh tears pouring down his cheeks as he stood and fled the pub. Sherlock frowned, but continued singing for the sake of the crowd, as Greg stood and followed John out of the door.
"John? What is it?"
"N-nothing. I'm fine. Just feeling a bit… ill."
"No. It's no illness. What's wrong?" Greg asked, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder.
"It doesn't matter." Then Greg realised.
"Oh… You… Do you like him?" Greg asked gently. He'd had the suspicion for a while, but had had no reason to confirm it. John stopped for a moment, before nodding very slightly. "Come on. Calm down." Greg said, with a comforting smile as he handed John a tissue. "Ever think he might feel the same?"
"Sherlock? Feel the same? Never." John stated.
"Did you SEE the way he looked at you while he was singing?" Greg exclaimed.
"That means nothing. He's drunk."
"Come on. No point spoiling the evening."
"True…" John muttered, wiping his eyes, and then following Greg back into the pub. Sherlock had finished singing and was walking back towards the bar with an uncanny grace. John was sure he couldn't be that drunk… Sherlock glanced towards them, and his direction immediately shifted towards them, his eyes locking with John's again. It was all John could do not to burst into tears and run out of the door again.
"John. What's wrong?" asked Sherlock. John stared. "John?"
"Huh? Nothing." John forced a smile.
"Oh. That's good." Sherlock smiled. John assumed he'd been convinced, which was a little saddening, but he smiled back, sitting back down at the bar. Amazingly, Sherlock didn't have any more beer. Something seemed to be on his mind…
"Are you okay?" John asked after about half an hour of him talking to Greg, while Sherlock sat in silence. Sherlock looked up with the most adorable look of confused innocence on his face that John had ever seen. His heart leapt.
"I'm… fine." Sherlock hesitated. John frowned.
"You sure?" Greg asked, before John could.
"Yeah. Just a second." Sherlock said, before disappearing into the men's toilets.
John and Greg continued their conversation from earlier, but occasionally one of them would mention Sherlock, or ask what was taking him so long. At that point, they would both frown and glance at the door he'd gone through. After twenty minutes, Greg suggested John went to check on him. John nodded and stood, walking towards the door to the toilets. As he entered, he saw Sherlock bent over a sink, with his head in his hands.
"'Lock?" asked John. "What's wrong?"
Sherlock said nothing. He straightened up, brushing off his shirt, which still seemed to be straining; John struggled not to look. He turned to face John, and their eyes locked together again. John felt the tears, but pushed them back down. However, he couldn't stop the slight blush that crept to his cheeks, and the slight increase in his heart rate. If Sherlock hadn't noticed it, he was really drunk. Sherlock stepped forward, so they were inches apart, and he looked down on John. John gulped. He nearly said "What?" but he didn't want to destroy the moment, the silence which had fallen over them both. Before he could do anything else though, Sherlock did break the silence. With one action, one simple act that sent John's head into a whirlwind of confusion and pain.
Sherlock kissed him.
His back bent as he cupped John's face with his right hand, and he gently touched their lips together… John's heart went crazy, and he thought he might faint. But he didn't. Then, Sherlock raised one finger to his lips, miming "shhh", a smile playing on his lips, and he left. John stood there, shell-shocked. He raised his hand to touch his own lips, and felt tears slide down his cheeks. Tears of joy? No. Tears of confusion? Yes…
When John came out, Greg had left. Sherlock explained Greg had said he had an early start for work, and had to go. John nodded.
"Let's go home…" John muttered.
"Oh, okay." Sherlock said. He sounded like a child. He'd become a teenager, maybe even younger, mentally. His mind, under the influence of alcohol, had let all its wall crumble down, and it had regressed to the time before he'd locked his emotions and hormones away behind those walls. Sherlock followed John like a puppy, keeping exactly one metre behind him. Occasionally John would look round, just to check he was still there. He always was.
AAAAND we're not done :P Cuz I'm mean XD PLEASE REVIEW! I LOVE YOU ALL!
