A/N - Told you I'd get it up quickly! Well quickly for me.

/ /

Sherlock froze, completely. Didn't breath, didn't move, and in no way responded to John's lips on his. It wasn't that Sherlock hadn't done this before, his past full of moments like this. But no one was ready to hear about his past, especially John someone he actually cared a great deal about.

John pulled away, a frown on his lips. He pulled off the kitchen side. God, he'd been stupid to ever think Sherlock could be interested in him in that way.

''I'm s-sorry, I was just drunk.'' He murmured, trying to blame his embarrassment on drink.

Sherlock nodded. Drunk. That was all; John was drunk, completely unaware of what he was doing. Why would John ever be interested in him? He was the freak, and he was wrong to think John would've thought any differently.

He slipped off the kitchen side, wishing he would have taken the option of going to the pub. At least then he may have still had been able to look John in the eye.

John was of course primarily embarrassed, but part of him hurt. He was sure he'd read the signs right, sure Sherlock was interested in him.

Sherlock took a step forwards, a hand on John's shoulder. ''Look..Jo-''

He was cut off by John's own words. ''Just go home.'' He shrugged his shoulder away, and turned back to the fridge to grab another beer. He may as well drown his sorrows, not that there was ever any sort of answer at the bottom of the bottle.

Sherlock opened his mouth to argue, but thought better against it. He trusted John, for some reason, but wasn't yet ready to divulge him in his past.

He grabbed his coat and paused at the door. ''I'm sorry… Bye, John.''

/ /

It had been a week since John had tried to kiss him, a week since they'd last spoken. There had been no texts, calls, emails. Just nothing, a complete silence from the other man.

He had a reason to be angry, Sherlock had shown all the signs he was interested. He was interested, just not yet ready to admit to himself he was able to care for one person. And there were no reason behind it, no motives.

He still went to the pub every night, just to see if he could catch a glimpse of John.

But he never turned up, he stopped going completely. He stayed inside his flat, whilst his two flat mates and their friends left him alone.

He was desperate to text him, but he had to show some restrain. If John wanted to talk to him, he'd text him first. That's what he kept telling himself, that's what stopped him from any interaction on his part.

/ /

John had be hauled up in his flat all week, mostly his bedroom so no one had to witness how much of a wreck he'd become over one fucking stupid arse of a person.

He'd refused to go out to the pub, there was huge risk Sherlock would be there and he couldn't face him. Just couldn't face the embarrassment. He was sure he'd read it right, Sherlock had edged closer to him, practically held his hand for goodness sakes! He'd never seen him that friendly with anyone before.

He wanted so desperately to text him, call him, see him. But he stopped himself, kept telling himself if Sherlock wanted to talk to you he'd text you. You texting him first will just make you look desperate.

You've only talked to him once, pull yourself together. Plenty more fish in the see and all that. But even John Watson's own thoughts weren't helping him, if anything they were just making it worse.

He pulled his phone from his pocket, with no intention of doing what he actually wanted to do. Instead he just scrolled through old texts; there were even signs in the texts. Why hadn't he responded, why had he left?

He sighed, and locked his phone. It was doing him no good, making him feel worse than he already was in fact. It was getting late now; nearing 11pm. Sarah and Mike would be home soon, he'd just pretend he was asleep to stop them trying to ask questions again.

/ /

After two weeks of pining for someone he could quite easily have, if he just apologised about the sudden non responsiveness, he finally texted.

John, can we talk? –SH

John heard his phone go off, and reluctantly plucked it from his jean pocket. His phone had gone of plenty of times this week, each time a part of him expected it to be Sherlock Holmes it never was of course.

But this time, oh, it actually was.

About? –JW

You know what about, please, just let me explain. –SH

Explain how I made an idiot of myself, I'd rather not. –JW

John, I won't ask you again. –SH

Fine, fine. Mike and Sarah are in, and I doubt you wish to discuss it in front of them. –JW

Not particularly no, mine? – SH

I do not know where you live. –JW

I'll meet you outside the pub, 10 minutes. –SH

Fine, see you then. –JW

/ /

To say John was nervous was an understatement; he'd arrived at the pub the second the text came through. He had time for a quick pint before he headed back outside, sitting on one of the benches.

Sherlock came around the corner looking gorgeous as usual; John could never get tired of that face. He offered him a small smile, before standing up and walking to meet him.

''Hey.'' He was planning to put on a mask, just like he did. But it completely crumbled whilst face to face.

''Afternoon.'' Sherlock returned the smile, and briskly walked in the direction of his flat. ''It's only five minutes away.''

John nearly broke out into a jog just trying to catch up with him, Sherlock legs went on forever, whilst his not so much. By the time they actually reached his flat he had to pause by the door for breath.

Sherlock rolled his eyes, and let out a lengthy sigh. Before getting bored of waiting for him to catch his breath and pulling him inside.

It took him by surprise and he almost managed to trip over the doorstep, but he regained his composure once he was inside. ''This… is…''

John really couldn't think of a word to describe it there was clutter everywhere. Newspaper clippings, magazines spread all over the living room floor. Chemicals, and vials all over the wooden kitchen table. ''Nice.'' He finished with.

''What? Oh… it's only temporary so it will do.'' Sherlock shrugged and took of his scarf and coat hanging them over the already packed coat-stand.

John nodded and made his way to the sofa, trying to move any of the paper with his feet. He flopped down onto the sofa crossing his legs under himself, looking up anxiously at Sherlock. Just wanting nothing more than an answer, explanation.

Sherlock shuffled over the room, taking the seat next to John. He'd been building himself up to this for two weeks so there was no time for tea, or niceties. He'd bottle it otherwise, and then John would never know.

''John…'' He started, quickly faltering. It was a mistake to look him directly in the eye. He moved his hand across the sofa, taking John's hand in his.

John squeezed lightly not daring to let go.

Sherlock averted his eyes their hands, swallowing the lump around his throat. ''When I was in school… I, well, was bullied rather badly as you can expect. I guess you've seen how bad it can get here, and they're not nearly as immature as the students that attended my school.''

He coughed to clear his throat and started again.

''And when it got to my last year, I'd decided I'd had enough of it. I just started going to all the school parties… and well, to put it crudely, I slept with anyone who would take me. Man or Woman. Just to feel better about myself, because at one point I really did care what people thought of me… now, not so much. The bullies stop, because they knew I wouldn't go near them if they continued. I was considered what do they say? The schools slut, but I was rather good at it. Could reduce people to mere moans in seconds…''

Sherlock trailed up and looked up at John, just to make sure he wasn't disgusted, if he was still looking. John nodded as a sign to continue.

''And well… Like I said the bullying completely stopped, and I was like that for a year. I think I slept with at least 50 people. The whole year near enough. But then when I got to university, I stopped. I haven't slept with anyone for months, I felt so shit about myself. That I had to sleep with people to get them to like me, and I didn't want university to be like that. So I just stopped giving a shit about what people thought… And then when you kissed me the other day, I was confused because I'd never actually done anything sexual with someone I cared about. I didn't want to do anything wrong, I wanted it to be perfect. I didn't want it to be a drunken mistake, well on your part anyways.'' Sherlock finished, and prepared himself for John to run, or to shout out at him.

To his surprise neither of those happened, he felt John's arms wrap around him. He instantly let himself relax, let himself sob into the man's shoulder. He regretted that last year, but it'd always be there to remind him that he really didn't deserve anyone.

He especially really did not deserve someone like John Watson.

/ /

A/N -I didn't want to cram anything else into that chapter, John's reaction coming next.

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uickly! Well quickly for me