Okay so quite a few of you commented saying you wanted the smutty scene (of course you would) so that's what I've written... OR HAVE I! Ahaha, okay, well thanks for continuing to read this, it means a lot, and if you don't like graphic scenes, read something else; rated M for a reason guys.

I AM SO SORRY FOR THE HUGE DELAY but my nan has passed away, she had a heart attack, and, basically, i've never lost a member of my family, so i found it hard to cope for a bit.

Chapter 4

"Do you still want your jacket?"

Sherlock's voice rang in John's ears like white noise; blurring his vision and making him go dizzy ever so slightly.

John blinked once. Twice. Three times; never looking away from Sherlock.

He never realised how hard it is to form a coherent sentence when someone is staring right at you. His mouth opened and closed, remarkably like a goldfish, before he choked out a reply.

"Yes."

Sherlock's face was blank. He just looked at John, not moving, hardly breathing, face pale and hands tensing at either side of John's head.

"Fine," Sherlock said as he rolled off of John and landed on the floor. His nimble fingers made quick work of the buttons at the bottom of the jacket, and he flung it in John's general direction. "Here, have it."

"Thank you," John managed.

Sherlock huffed and exited the room, not looking at John once. John grabbed the jacket that was draped over the edge of the bed and slowly slipped the material over his arms. As he fitted it over his shoulders, a waft of air made his nostrils widen. His jacket smelt of Sherlock.

The doctor brought up the cuff of the jacket to his nose and inhaled deeply, the sweet and slightly musky smell filling every gap in his senses.

John was quickly knocked out of his daydream when he noticed the time; he only had 14 minutes to get the pub.

"Shit."

He raced out of Sherlock's bedroom and grabbed his wallet from the kitchen table. "Sherlock, I won't be long, only a couple of hours, okay?"

He got no reply from the figure standing in the frame of the window, violin under his chin, but not playing a single note.

"Fine," John gritted his teeth and jumped down the stairs, lunging violently or the door when he reached it.

The cold air whipped his unprotected face, causing him to shiver uncontrollably. He made his way through the street to the pub, with its lights glowing artificially in the night sky.

Walking through the door in a haze, he staggered to the bar and ordered a pint. A girl appeared behind him and tapped his shoulder.

"Hey, John!" she said when he turned to face her.

"Oh, hey Laura", he tried to sound as enthusiastic as he could. "Would you like a drink?"

"No, I'm good thanks, got mine right here," she held up a glass of red wine that was balancing delicately in her hand."You're a tad late, mister."

"Yeah, um, sorry about that, I, er", John cleared his throat, "lost my wallet."

"Oh, you are silly," Laura nudged his arm playfully. "C'mon, let's go sit somewhere," she followed up her statement with a flirtatious wink.

John tried to smile back but he knew himself that it wasn't convincing. He followed her in the dimly lit pub until they reached two chairs placed next to each other by a fire.

His mind suddenly whisked him back to Dartmoor, where he sat with Sherlock in a similar pub by a fire, where he declared that he had no 'friends'. He was lying.

John shook his head and rubbed the side of his face. When he looked up he saw Laura beaconing him to join her.

He sat down with a thump next to her and sighed, feeling the warmth from the fire eradicate the stress from his body.

"Are you okay, John?" Laura asked. "You just don't seem, yourself."

"Me, hmm? I'm fine, I'm absolutely fine," he gave her a reassuring grin.

"Good. Now, doctor, what do you want to talk about?" She leant forward and placed her free hand on his knee.

"Oh, um, anything. Talk about anything. I'm easy, haha. Completely easy," John felt a weird sensation rising in his stomach.

Something about Laura touching him didn't feel good. It didn't feel right. He just sat there and stared at her hand, willing it to move away. But it didn't. Instead, it travelled towards him, and when he looked up, Laura's face was inches from his.

"Well, maybe we shouldn't talk."

Her lips on his didn't feel right. They weren't soft, like Sherlock's. They weren't moist, like Sherlock's. They just felt abnormal on his, they didn't fit there.

She tried to coax him into a little more action by opening her mouth and sweeping her tongue across his bottom lip.

He could taste the alcohol on her breath; she had had more than one drink before he'd even got there.

Her hands started to snake around his neck, and he knew he had to stop it. His hands found there way to her shoulders and he gently pushed them back until their lips parted.

"What's wrong, doctor?" Laura wiped her sleeve across her mouth. "Do you not like a girl who likes to have some fun."

John wasn't listening. John was thinking. About Sherlock. He needed to go home, he needed to apologise. He needed him.

"Look, Laura, you're a lovely girl, but I don't think this is right for me. I'm going to go, but I'll see you around?" he knew it was a promise he wouldn't keep.

"Yeah, sure whatever," Laura slunk into her chair and sipped her wine. "You're boring anyway."

John left her cackling away to herself in the pub while he thought about what to do. His mind wouldn't form a coherent plan for him, all that cropped up in his jumbled mind was images of Sherlock hovering over him.

Before long, he was outside 221B. He searched for his keys, but they weren't in his pocket. Or his coat. Or his jeans.

Oh, bugger he thought. Now I'm going to have to get the smarmy git to open the door for me and greet me with some sarcastic comment. But he had no other choice. He couldn't stay outside in the cold all night. He just had to do it.

He knocked 3 times on the old wood frame until he heard clambering footsteps. John had a response planned when Mrs Hudson opened the door.

"Oh, hello love," she smiled. "Get in here, dear, or you'll catch your death".

John stepped thankfully into the hallway. "Thank you, Mrs Hudson. Um, have you seen Sherlock tonight?"

"Oh, no dear, he hasn't come out of the flat since you left, but you know what he's like. Sulks for days if he doesn't get what he wants." And with that, Mrs Hudson tottered back off to her own flat.

He sulks for days if he doesn't get what he wants. The words swam around in John's head and made him dizzy.

He raced up the stairs and made his way through the door.

"Sherlock?" he called. "Sherlock, I'm home."

"Ah, John, how nice of you to finally return," John focused on the sound coming from near the window. "I'm surprised it took you this long to work out that this latest girl was only using you to get back at her ex boyfriend, but I'm sure-"

John spun Sherlock around to face him, grabbed a fistful of his shirt, and pulled their faces together until their lips met, and they kissed.

AHAHA I'm so evil for not writing the sexy scene yet but I like making you wait! Please let me know what you thought, and I should be updating asap. Thanks you guys, it really means a lot to me.

-Sherly xo