"Who are you texting?"
Sherlock stuck his head over John's shoulder. Having completely ignored John for the past hour and a half in favor of his experiments and violin this sudden change from passive to inquisitive surprised the doctor.
"Just a friend from work. We're thinking about getting a big group together and going out tonight." John replied.
"Oh." And with that short conversation over Sherlock was back to ignoring his boyfriend, walking about the room with his violin perched under his chin.
John shrugged, blaming the whole thing on the traditional Holmes oddness. He turned back to his phone and not two texts later Sherlock was at his side again.
"I'm going to need you tonight." He said suddenly.
"Well that's too bad because I told you I'm going out." John remained unfazed, not even looking up at the detective.
"It's important, John. I think drinks can wait." Sherlock scowled, twirling on his heel so that his blue dressing gown resembled the dress of a dancer.
"What's so important?" John sighed. He had been in a good mood all day until now. He was really getting along with the blokes from work, and he wasn't about to add them to the list of people he would never see again because of Sherlock.
"We're after a suspect tonight. It's one of the murder cases I've been following. He frequents a Chinese restaurant nearby. We'll go there and see if we can spot him and tail him from there." Sherlock explained.
"Can't you go by yourself?" John felt that familiar frustration building up in him. The man couldn't let him have one night. Why couldn't the world stop committing crimes long enough for him to hit up a pub with his friends?
"John." Sherlock gave him a hard stare. Or as John liked to call it his 'even if you argue I will win' stare.
John sighed, and cancelled his plans.

"No sign of him. Of course." John huffed, half limping half stomping his way up the stairs.
"There was only a sixty percent chance of his showing up." Sherlock replied, doing that annoying thing where he pressed himself up against the wall to slide past whoever was in front of him on the stairs. John resisted the urge to trip the man he loved.
"Still. You did have a good time, right John?" Sherlock persisted, walking through the doorway and hanging up his coat with a flourish.
"Well yes. Still." John sighed and then gave Sherlock a kiss on the cheek. "I expect all future criminals to be polite enough to check if I have plans before pulling me out to goose chases."

Unfortunately for John that wasn't the last instance in which he had to cancel his plans to follow the tracks of some murderer or another. His friends were starting to wonder if he had been avoiding them, and he had to plead insanity (insanity of his flatmate) to get them to see reason.
The fifth time John was dragged out and yet again no murderer appeared, John began to get suspicious. He was no Sherlock Holmes, but he could tell when the detective was up to something and right now Sherlock was practically swimming in deceit. If Sherlock had some problem, it was John's job to get to the bottom of it. So he decided to confront him.
John sat down next to Sherlock on the couch, he attempted to look relaxed but his frustration was clearly written on his face.
"Sherlock..." He sighed, and the pale detective looked up from his (John's) laptop.
"Yes, John?" He asked innocently.
"Do you want to tell me why we've been chasing fake criminals all around London?"
Sherlock froze, although he managed to keep himself from looking nervous or found out.
"I don't understand." He replied.
"No, I think you do and you just aren't telling me." John said slowly, putting his hand on Sherlock's. "Just tell me."
Sherlock eyed up the opposite wall for a few seconds, then studied his feet.
"...You're mine." He whispered.
"...Excuse me?" John's voice wasn't angry exactly, but it wasn't pleased either.
Sherlock jerked his head back around to face John, his eyes looking dominant and almost furious.
"I don't like them, John! They take you away so often! They don't let me have any time with you anymore!" Sherlock pouted, looking like a child that had his favorite toy taken away. John didn't know if he liked being Sherlock's "toy". Still he had to admit that this possesivness was a little bit cute...albeit innapropriate and annoying...
Clearly Sherlock had never been in a relationship before and so was hitting the jealous high schooler phase a little late in life. John needed to fix this.
"Sherlock...I need to go out with my friends from time to time..." He started, stroking his thumb against Sherlock's hand. "That doesn't mean I love you any less, and it doesn't mean I won't come home to you when it's all over..."
Sherlock tried to avoid eye contact, John suspected he was starting to blush.
"Hey. I spend so much time with you, and there are things I do with you that I would never do with anyone else. Giggling at a crime scene? That's just us."
Sherlock's mouth twitched into a small smile. Then he sighed and wrapped his arms around John.
"I still don't like it. I need you." He huffed angrily.
"Of course you sod. I need you too." John laughed, rolling his eyes and kissing his ridiculous boyfriend.