After hours of lying together on the carpet of grass in the park, chatting about anything and everything, the boys finally went home. Under the soft glow of streetlamps and quite heavy cloud cover they walked, hand in hand, enjoying the cool breeze and the nighttime wash over them. A comfortable silence waned around their figures. Sherlock unlocked the door to his home, the door slightly creaked when he pushed it open and stepped over the threshold and warm air and soft light emitted from inside the house. Sherlock quietly shut the door once John had followed suit. The soft glow of a TV and indistinct voiced projected from the sitting room.

The teens padded up the stairs in their socks and strolled into Sherlock's bedroom, relief that they had gotten back on time and not questioned about the event settled into John's stomach. John slumped down in the beanbag chair while Sherlock took residence in the office chair, twirling around carelessly. John's doubts returned and fear replaced relief. Sherlock must've noticed the change in atmosphere, for he stopped spinning around and regarded John with curious eyes. "Something wrong?" He asked. John cleared his throat and looked away from Sherlock's penetrating gaze. "Just something, not really important," John spoke quietly. "Please tell me John," Sherlock asked, the unspoken 'you can trust me' hanging in the air. John hoped. He grasped at the floating letters and silently prayed that this would all work out.

"Am I just another one?" John started. "Another what?" Sherlock perked. "Another friend, another person for you to enjoy company then toss away and forget. Am I just a 'phase' you'll grow out of?" It hurt to say these words but John needed to know. "Have you been speaking to Mycroft?" Sherlock asked, standing now. "I may have run into him, but that's not the point, Sherlock. Tell me now, are you going to one day cast me off, because if so I may as well just leave now, save myself the pain,"

Sherlock looked pained himself, eyes drooping ever so slightly. "John, listen to me. You're not like anyone else. Unlike them I came to you, they came to me. I chose you, and I haven't felt this way about someone, since... Since…" Sherlock sputtered. "Victor." John supplied. Sherlock's eyes straightened. "How do you know that name?" He asked, stern. "Your mother may have mentioned it, but don't worry she didn't tell me anything about him, continue." John was surprisingly calm and collected. "Anyway, you're different, even from Victor. I would never leave you, John, I will stay by your side no matter what, I will pick you up when you're down and be your shoulder to cry on and I'll be there to talk, or sit in silence, or watch a movie, anything John. You're not like them, John, you're more important and I hope you feel the same because I don't know what I'd do without you. Don't say get another friend, because you're irreplaceable John."

Sherlock was now rambling in the middle of the room, spluttering, eyes darting in confusion and worry. John stood up, his eyes softened, limbs like jelly. He walked over to Sherlock and rubbed his hands up and down his friend's arms, trying to warm and comfort him. Did Sherlock really feel that way? So helpless without John? Sherlock stopped spluttering when John reached up a hand to cup his cheek, his other hand resting on Sherlock's upper arm. John tilted the taller teens head so they were looking each other in the eye. John's calm blue ocean waters stuck to the stormy grey clouds. "Sherlock, I'd be a wreck without you. Of course, I'm never leaving." John whispered exhaling. Sherlock exhaled and relief flooded his troubled eyes. L John leaned closer to Sherlock, drawn in by the warmth radiating around, wanting more. In response, the other also leaned in.

As their lips met, John moved his arms up around Sherlock's neck and leaned into the contact. Sherlock had one arm around John and the other resting in his honey-coloured hair, softly stroking. After a rivalling make out session, a soft knock broke them apart, slightly panting. Mrs Holmes pushed open the door, and upon seeing John's slightly dishevelled hair, both irregular breathing pattern and the look that passed between their eyes she makes her visit quick. "I brought some cookies, didn't know if you'd be hungry. Get some sleep." She said with a smile and left the room as quickly as she'd come.

John giggled and grabbed a cookie, munching on it slowly. Sherlock slipped into his PJ's while John was busy in the bathroom, then crawled into his bed. John came back in the room and glanced at Sherlock, silently asking if it was okay. Sherlock smiled and pulled back the covers. John slid in gratefully and curled up into Sherlock's arm, snuggling into the soft grey cotton t-shirt. John was wrapped around Sherlock's arm like bark on a branch. Sherlock didn't mind. Thunder rumbled outside, expected, and John, already asleep, squeezed Sherlock's arm in sleep-induced comfort. Sighing, Sherlock turned on his side and wrapped his free arm around John.

Next chapter will have a bit of Mystrade, bit of fluff and stuff, please drop any suggestions and reviews cause they're encouraging and lovely. :)